Author Archives: sinistersuperspy

Reflection in the key of G

Milestones. Memories. Moments.

There a very few days we get to enjoy the fruits of our labours.

They skirt the horizon, seemingly out of reach and so far away.

We strive. We sweat. We stress.

Then all at once, they are upon us. Bittersweet yet anticlimactic.

And just like that, a new perspective shifts into view.

Our lives saunter along as if it was always like this.

So take the time. Savour the journey. Relish in the experience.

Because the next one is right around the corner.

Everything’s Coming Up …..Uh, What was I saying?….

OK. So I’m only human.

Not every post is going to be chock full of peaches and light, with happy bunnies crapping out rainbows and shit.

Sorry about that. That was wildly inappropriate.

I have been feeling a strong premonition relating to a head cold the last two days.

Today it appeared to up its game.

I have liquids and rest in my corner. The Cold has its minions invading my sinuses, and is stockpiling mucus.

It’s going to get violent soon.

Gross. It just made me sneeze all over my tablet.

Well played, Cold. Well played.

It Takes A Village…..

Let’s pretend you were the leader of a village.

And during your tenure as leader, you went around at night to all the chicken coops in the village, and bit the heads off of all the chickens. It doesn’t matter why you chose this particular distraction. It could have been macramé.

One of the children wakes up one night, and through their bedroom window, spots you committing your nefarious deeds.

The child tells their parents, friends, teachers – anyone who will listen.

But the child’s story is dismissed as ridiculous. You blame it on rats.

Until someone else sees it too on another night.

Suddenly, the rumour gains some momentum. Your fellow villagers cast side-long glances at you as you pass by. The mood shifts when you enter the local pub.

People become passively hostile towards you.

Eventually, cornered by your constituents and a lack of convenient foils, you cave.

You hold a village meeting, and with your hat in your hand, somberly and with great remorse, admit to your terrible secret activity.

You extol the virtues of your village, and genuflect upon the ruin and disappointment you have wrought.

You regale them with your future prospects’ and your renewed commitment to the villages’ sanctity and success.

You gaze proudly out to the crowd. Your magnanimous expression beaming down like a fresh, new sunrise.

You wrap up your apology-laden speech, giving time and space for your fellow villagers to reflect upon and process your words. They look at you, studying, contemplating.

And just like that, they lynch you for the bastard that you are.

Wake up, Toronto. You’ve got a rat problem.

A Symbol Little Thing……

So some of you may have noticed there’s a big story in the news – the whole white poppy thing.

The general tone is this: there is a group of individuals who don’t like what they believe the wearing of red poppies for Remembrance Day symbolizes.

Red poppies are apparently reminiscent of bloodshed, loss and ongoing warmongering.

To move away from this culture of armed conflict, we must embrace those things that represent best what we hope for: a world of peace and communication. Hence a white poppy.

Bullshit.

The wearing of the red poppy tells anyone who cares to look that the wearer acknowledges ALL of the sacrifices, ALL of the commitments , and ALL of the choices that those who have served,  are serving,  and will continue to serve  have made to GUARANTEE that each and every man, woman and child alive in this country is free.

Free to dissent if they so choose. Free to gather with others who are of like mind and disposition.  Free to bask in whatever it is that defines their self expression.

Every. Single. Day.

Wearing a red poppy on your left lapel is a simple little gesture of your appreciation and thankfulness of that freedom.

Anyone in this country can choose to do so, or choose not to.

There are two items of significant importance that are often overlooked when it comes to the red poppies:

One – poppies are red. Red is the colour of our blood, something that we all have in common. Blood doesn’t have to be spilled to suffer. We are all part of one human family. We bear the weight together.

Two – we wear the poppies over our hearts. Ironically, the heart represents that part of us where we feel loss, where we feel joy, where we feel love. It’s also where our blood comes from.

There is a reason we develop symbols in our civilization. They act as totems to our history. They connect us all and bring us closer together when we feel sad, or quiet. They give us strength when we must rise to the challenge, and they make us proud to belong.

It’s a simple thing, putting on a red poppy.

But don’t worry. You can wear a white poppy if it’s really that much of an imposition for you.

I will GUARANTEE your right to do so.

You’re Welcome.

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Nixed Messages

So today I’ve had several pieces of technology fail on me.

The power went out. My laptop died. My tablet keeps rebooting. My vehicle is woefully unprepared for the winter, and dinner was too greasy. Generally the day ended up detouring to Poopsville, and I was being given the key to the city.

Of course at the end of the day I realize these are small potatoes. And for those of you unfamiliar with the mystical secrets of miniature pomme de terre-ians, it means really isn’t a big deal.

Even as we speak, or more accurately as I speak, I write this without the aid of my speak-n-spell option on my phone, which in no way overuses my diminishing battery life, I am working on a plan.

I am rising above. I am adapting and overcoming.  I am exercising the electronic demons that fester and putrify within my apparatuses…..apparatusi….my stuff.

In short, I am doing what any sane, sensible, modern techo-saavy macho dude in my place would do:

I looked it up online, found a solution and followed the instructions.

I can trust the internet, right?

Lazy Sunday…..

As always, the weekends go by too fast.

I often day dream about when I am retired.

The aimless days, wiling away the hours, drinking coffee, eating crackers and cheese.

Sampling audio delights of days gone-by or that documentary I always wanted to see, clad only in my raggediest of weekend wear.

Nowhere to be. No pressure. No stress.

Yeah, that first 28 minutes is pure heaven.

The rest of the day I’m just bored, sitting in my own unwashedness.

There’s only so many times you can refresh Twitter.

Oooohhhhh look. New arrivals on Netflix……

Fuzzy Was He?

I rediscovered a couple games I haven’t played in a few years.

I was terribly excited to jump back in to what i considered a happy jaunt down memory lane.

Not so much.

I don’t remember being this annoyed the first time through. I’m a little fuzzy on the details.

Maybe I have become too spoiled by modern gaming quality that I have turned into some kind of next-gen snob?

Say it ain’t so…..

Day One…..

So I’ve had this blog for awhile.

It hasn’t gone quite the way I hoped. It’s ok, but it isn’t where it could be.

I had always fancied myself as a writer of sorts. i certainly have enough scraps of paper, manilla envelopes and discarded napkins with the essence of my works scrawled on them.

But I haven’t been as dedicated as I really need to be to honestly call myself a “writer”.

Listen – here’s the deal.

My wife, in an effort to focus on her love of photography, committed herself to taking a picture everyday. For 365 days.

It worked wonderfully. She takes amazing photos, as anyone who has seen them can attest.

So, what the hell is my problem?

I have no excuse.

So starting today, I am committing myself to writing something. Every. Single. Day.

I won’t promise that it will always be funny. Or insightful. Or even comprehensible.

But it will be here.

This is Day One.

Join me.

I Stream the Body Electric….

I have an unhealthy relationship with Netflix.

Hang on. Let me start at the beginning.

So like 5 years ago, we nixed cable/satellite as a source of entertainment, primarily due to cost, but also to stave off the bad habits we as a family were developing.

You know. Glued to the set for far too long throughout the day.

Skip to the end – We started using the streaming, digital version of Netflix probably about 2 years ago.

Man, those 3 movies and 2 tv shows were awesome.

I digress. I do that a lot.

Today, the majority of our recreational viewing is via Netflix. Which is ok, because it’s still waaaayyy cheaper than the alternative.

Here’s the problem.

No commercials.

I know, right??

What is my problem?

Here it is: Commercials would compel me to either a) switch channels, or b) get up and do something else, out of hatred for commercials.

Now we burn through tv shows, documentaries, movies of all kinds (that we’d never known existed) like some sort of tweaked out speed freaks.

It’s a bad habit.

And the worst thing of all?

You can never find the things you ACTUALLY want to watch, so you settle for something less than ideal.

Oh. My. God.

I’m paying for a video rental store.

I feel so dirty…….