My Brain is Like a Chinook in an Ice Cream Shop

OK kids, so I've got exactly 14 days to produce 65 pages of genius writing.
On:
1. Palestinian men and Gender performance
2. Ethnobotany, BC Land Claims and the colonial archive
3. uh, some kind of link between Heidegger's Nazi days and Margaret Somerville.

Somerville thinks gay folks are some kind of error, and for this kind of obviously complex thinking, she was given an honourary PhD at York and gave this year's CBC Massey Lectures.
So I thought I'd try and take her out.

Sigh.

Anyone out there read The Walrus? This month has an AWESOME picture-article about what people around the world eat every week.
The people that eat lots of vegetables and fish are the hottest.
Those who eat the most chips and bacon are the least so.

So the question really is: Do sexy people live longer?

oh friends

"oh friends, there is no friend."

of course there are friends.
but Derrida was writing about Greek guys talking to other old Greek guys about friendship.

I wish I weren't an absent friend: that is what the Greek guys meant. That you want to be a great enough friend that you are missed. Bu then you are not there, so what kinda friend are you?

I'd rather not be absent.

I don't love Edmonton yet.

Vacuous, cold, expensive, fancy.

So far, the best thing about Alberta is that it's next to B.C.

Oh, and the mall is better than the Louvre with the Taj Mahal inside it.

Pleasure and Defenestration

It's these pleasures, I am sure, that will keep the revolution fomenting (if not revolting).
What I mean is that while I am, perhaps excessively, putting in long long days (like 9 and 10 hour days, and this week and last week were 6 day weeks) there are these little pleasures that, perhaps because the rest of the time I mostly read, talk, or sit in front of a computer, become sensually pleasing:

1. In the cafeteria of the U of A Education building there are 8 food vending machine-robots. I call them robots because they do the work of food preparation and selection for you. Recently I enjoyed an instant Nescafe "frothed coffee". It was kind of buttery coloured and frothy on top, and then about as sweet as, say, a citrus fruit (not as sweet as an apple), and rather bitter. Mmm. The "small" size was quite sufficient and was $1.00.
I also had my favourite ice cream treat, that is, the plain rectangular Ice Cream Sandwich. I fondly recall these from the Czech Republic as one of the only things that tasted exactly the same as it does in Canada, except that, charmingly, in the C.R. it is called a "Nanuk" (as in Nanook), therefore allowing one to consume the other in a literal and definitely sweet and refreshing manner.

2. A Certain French Librarian. I am not attracted to him. I do, though, really enjoy asking him questions and engaging him. He is kind of awkward and seems to have this repressed energy, so that when I ask him for help he kind of jumps out of his spot behind the reference desk. He's married. He has an awesome kind of rural Qubecois accent and, this is unreal, he advised me about microfiche use. Microfiche? WTF? I haven't looked at a microfiche since Horse Lake Elementary. Awesomely, the U of A has creepy stuff like records of colonial governance meetings in BC from the late 1800s on microfiche. And then I can print or save the microfiche images/info. Kind of an uncannily enjoyable thing for me: nostalgia, french guy in tie and dress shirt, dirt on colonialism, and my home, ALL IN ONE.

So comrades, so far the Revolution is going all right.
Still not dating, and I've decided that is perhaps for the best.
I mean, who wants to be all "Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't call you today," in the middle of serious marching, rioting, and defenestration.
Defenestration is the AWESOMEST revolutionary practice of all. Though not very pacifist.
I would like to practice defenestration on Klein.
Before the fucker gets away to the Fraser Insitutute (can you believe he is getting a job at a "think tank"? I mean, there is this pile of gravel by my building that I think would be good there too. So, yeah, go for it Fraser Insitute. Morons.)

Fight Like A Viking (But share the Booty)

Oh Dear.

It seems I am back in school again.

Why, oh why am I still putting up my hand to say something I hope will be incisive enough to surprise yet expected enough to get approval?

And I live in Alberta.
Well, at least I have a fun new hobbie: Protests! Activism!

Over my over-educated corpse will this country turn into a right-wing, dumb-headed, narrow-thinkin' land of lame!