This was the Future, Vol.08

typed for your pleasure on 29 March 2005, at 1.57 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Give your love to be free’ by the Manson Family

One of the many reasons I want to move to Toronto is cos as it stands, I’m 32 years old, and I’m fecking sick of having to drive everywhere. Since Detroit might lose its reputation as ‘the Motor City’ if it actually had a working mass transportation system, there are very few functional buses, and no subway to speak of. In Toronto, on the other hand, not only do they have buses, but they’ve got these things called streetcars and like this train that rides beneath the earth, like some sort of subterranean way.. a sub-way! On the many occasions that I’ve been to T.O (as the hipsters call Toronto), I was continually impressed with the cleanliness and efficiency of their subway lines. Not only that, but the architecture of the subway stations themselves have always caught my eye.

In today’s installment, we cover the subway stations of Montreal! Cos I couldn’t find a proper website that highlighted the ones in Toronto.

[The Radisson station pictured above] is characterized by dramatic rounded shapes in pale concrete and stainless steel, giving an impression somewhere between “metro train” and “starship.”

Since the site covers all of the stations in Montreal, you have to click on an individual picture to learn more about a particular station. My favourites have to be Beaubien and Radisson, and I’m sure you’ll quickly be able to divine why…
I highly suspect that once I move North, I’ll probably spend a month just riding the TTC lines, up and down, back and forth, getting off getting on, looking up looking forward. Should be fun

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Hamsters! As many as you can carry!

typed for your pleasure on 29 March 2005, at 12.22 am

Sdtrk: ‘Dimension futur’ by Lucien Lavoute

It seems people are digging hamsters all of a sudden! Well, not literally digging them. You don’t plant packets of hamster seeds, water them, and come back months later to find small rodents partially submerged in dirt. Unless, of course, hamster gestation has made some really left-field developments that I was previously unaware of.

‘Ayep Martha, the crop sure done looks good this year’

Nation’s shoppers covet sofa and small furry pet
Times Online | March 22, 2005

HAMSTERS have burrowed their way into the nation’s shopping baskets, taking their place for the first time in an official list of widely bought products.

People trying to keep up with the times need to buy one of the furry creatures, along with laptops, leather sofas, wrapping paper and Botox, according to the list, which is used to measure inflation.
the rest of the article is here

Better stock up now before the Summertime, is all I can say. Come June, they won’t be able to keep them in the stores

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MY BUNNY HOLIDAY: a Play in Seven Acts

typed for your pleasure on 28 March 2005, at 8.47 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Bloody Jack’ by Serge Gainsbourg

First of all, I’ve noticed that HaloScan seems to be eating, or otherwise deleting, some of the older comments that readers have made. I was scrolling through some of the previous months, and I spotted a couple of posts that I knew had had comments, that had a count of zero. I’ve no idea what the hell is causing this, and as you suspect, I’m not too happy about it.

Did everyone have a good Bunny Holiday? Mine wasn’t too shabby.. On Sunday, Jeff and I saw The Dears in concert at the Magic stick, making this our third Dears show attended. It was the Dears, so it’s guaranteed Good Music, but it wasn’t as.. explosive.. of a show as the first two times we’d seen them, apart from the fact that Natalia seemed to be having trouble with her keyboard’s effects rack. Jeff reasoned that they might very well have been tired, as they spent the majority of last year on a tour, and as we all know, tours can take a lot out of you.. Nevertheless, it was still a pretty ace show. Now when’s that new album??

The Dears actually weren’t the opening or the headlining act; the opening group was some group we’d never heard of before called American minor. They were shite, pure and simple. You know how the current trend for ‘indie’ kids is to wear trucker ballcaps, in a failed attempt to be ironic? Well, I would suppose due to bands like American minor, they’re also listening to Southern Rock in a failed attempt to be ironic as well. I thought I was at a goddamned Lynrd Skynrd (or however the fuck you spell it) show. Five guys, all with long curly shoulder-length hair parted down the middle, as well as a guitarist with a John Holmesian moustache, playing Seventies-style rock ‘n’ roll. Fucking shite. Before their last song, the porn-‘stache guitarist mentioned to the crowd ‘We had to smoke all of our weed before crossing the border to Canada, so if anyone has any hook-ups, just meet us backstage.’ I shit you not. I should’ve whipped a fucking beer bottle at his head. When will that style of music die??

And the headlining act, The Soundtrack of our Lives was.. dull. Jeff had heard more of them than I had (two tracks to my zero), and I had read a blurb somewhere that they were somewhat Sixties psych-rock, crossed with the Beatles, from Sweden. Or Scandinavia. One of those Nordic countries, at any rate. They weren’t absolute shite, but nothing that we could get into. A lot of the band members sported thick, bushy beards, which I suppose makes sense if you’re from a Nordic country — you gotta keep your face warm. But the lead singer was wearing this black robe with a grey vertical stripe and the band’s logo on the arm, and yet, none of the other members were dressed as he was. You’d think he’d state that they all needed to don robes, for some sense of uniformity, but perhaps his idea was vetoed. Jeff and I split towards the end of their first song..

Now the thing I don’t understand was — what the hell were the Dears doing sandwiched in between two bands that don’t sound anything like them? The Dears, in case you’re unfortunate enough to have never heard them, sound rather like The Smiths, with a bit of Sonic youth-style guitar freak-outery every so often. On the other hand, TSOOL was psych-rock-sounding, and American bullshit sounded like Grand funk railroad (or, at least, how I imagine Grand funk railroad to sound). It was a rather incongruous lineup, is what I’m saying. It was like when we saw Broadcast the last time they rolled through Detroit, and the opening act was Iron and wine. Huh? Stereolab and Hall & Oates? Pulp and Tom Jones?? The Human league and GWAR???!

So since we took off early, we decided to get back round to his, and watch ‘Final episode’, the last fillum in the Yakuza papers series, directed by Kinji ‘Battle royale’ Fukusaku. Eventually, I’m probably gonna end up buying that boxset, as the films are pretty ace. Yakuza members form families and alliances! Duplicity and backstabbing occur! Characters are introduced at the start of a film, and odds are they won’t live to see the end! Shooterings! Stabbenings! It’s got it all!

Monday — that is to say, today — Derek and I went gallivanting around our old ‘alma mater’ of sorts, Wayne state University. He wanted to obtain his past academic records, as he’s looking into some classes, and we decided to wander around campus for a couple of hours. Every third building was new! Well, new to us, anyway. Rather strange.. Good day for it, though, as it was in the low 50s. Despite the fact that neither of us saw any robins, the official herald of Springtime; however, I did spot a couple of lasses wearing sandals. Yum!

And this past Saturday aft, a certain package showed up on my doorstep:

My only nitpick, if you can call it that, is that it’s made out to ‘David’, which is what my PayPal account is under — I guess Tristan missed my Email asking for an autograph made out to Davecat. O well. At some point, I’ll just have to purchase another figure! Yay for Tristan!

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My friend, you are not David Brent

typed for your pleasure on 25 March 2005, at 11.53 am

Sdtrk: ‘Swinging bachelor pad’ by Vitesse

Last night, I voluntarily watched the pilot episode of the american version of ‘The office’. I don’t normally watch broadcast television, in fact, I really haven’t watched telly since ‘Seinfeld’ went off the air, and I wasn’t even aware there was a bastardised version of ‘The office’ due to air over here; I was helping my mother with her computer, and I saw it mentioned on the TV listings, so I decided, why not?

Yep, it was shite. I mean, I knew it was going to be shite, but I suppose I had to confirm it. Over the course of 22min, I audibly laughed three times. That’s cos, gee, I’d already seen the first episode before. Seriously, it was the same damn episode as the original pilot — same gags and everything — only with americans in place of the British cast.
Turns out Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant are executive producers of it as well. Did you guys need rent money or something?? Why did you feel it was necessary to take a brilliant show, and essentially cut off its balls? I mean, there’s no way they’re gonna be able to come up with something equal to the gag featuring Tim and the dildo over here. And I’m thinking the Finchy character isn’t going to be nearly as funny, since 98% of his speech pattern is really horrible sexual innuendo.

O well. I’ve seen it, so now I can forget it exists. I had to watch the entire first disk of the boxset to wash the bad taste off my brain, so the evening wasn’t a total disaster.
I think later on at some point, I’m going to have to explain to you, the casual viewer of ‘Shouting etc etc’, why I despise most remakes, but right now I have to leave my house. Wish me luck!

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typed for your pleasure on 22 March 2005, at 11.48 am

Sdtrk: ‘Ich kann dir icht böse sein’ by France Gall

I hit one of the computer labs on campus today, in order to do my PowerPoint and integration homework that I can’t do at home, cos my computer only has Micro$oft Word, and the other one doesn’t even have that. The assignments run like typical workbook assigments: the exercise formulates a scenario — in this case, a group of fictitious tutoring centres are opening in Phoenix, AZ — and the book had me write up a letter to the local families that had children, letting them know what the centres offer, as well as describing the initial student assesment, tutoring fees, and advanced course work. Essentially, I had to make up a letter, but it had to mention the previous details. Heh. So off I went!

The Human Family
City, State ZIP

Dear Local Families Who Have Children,

I am pleased to announce that Learning Fulfillment Centers offer a whole new world of learning unto your brand new children. As recently as 2001, the Greater Phoenix area has seen the opening of two more offices, in order to provide your young prodigies with as much learning as we can literally pour into their craniums.

Why are the highly-acclaimed Learning Fulfillment Centers so magnificently successful? Well, I’ll tell you. Our trained staff of staff trainees evaluates each and every student individually, and handcrafts a unique custom plan for each one of them. Will your child grow up to be a mild-mannered botanist, or will he perhaps learn to speak only in binary? Will she create medicines that benefit humanity, or instead raise the entire country of Monaco several miles above the Earth’s surface? With our programs, your child’s potential will truly have the opportunity to grow without limits.

As well as the standard grade school curriculum, we also offer one-on-one tutoring that utilizes state-of-the-art robot helpers, and, upon assessment, advanced course work will be offered to your children, taking place in our acclaimed hermetically-sealed classrooms that exist both within and without the boundaries of Time and Space. Our programs have been so successful since the Learning Fulfillment Centers were started back in 1997, that couples worldwide are having babies, for the sole purpose of sending their offspring to our schools. Even Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand, who was assassinated back in 1914 by Gavrilo Princip, in a regrettable act that initiated the start of World War I, wished with his dying breath that he could live to sire a son, that would eventually enroll in a Learning Fulfillment Center program. Would that were it so! But alas, it was not to be.

At the Learning Fulfillment Center, we realize that children are our future, and if we can only harness their tiny genius brains to create time machines, or successful cold fusion, or even something as simple as a microwave that heats every single part of the chicken pot-pie without leaving the center still partially frozen, then we believe that all the arduous ninja-supervised training was well worth the effort. Understandably, our courses are a little more expensive than standard schools, but your child is worth it. Your future is worth it.

Please take a moment to look over the seventeen and a half pounds of enclosed literature that details our curriculum. I look forward to hearing from you soon!

Very truly yours,
Dave Kuroneko

After integrating my data from the Excel worksheets, I had to cut a couple of lines, but you’ve just read the pre-edited version.
*shaking head* Man. What the hell is wrong with my brain??

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Every week-end is like a little film festival / NONE CAN DEFEAT ME

typed for your pleasure on 21 March 2005, at 4.33 am

Sdtrk: ‘Bossa nova supernova’ by Harmonic 33

As I’d mentioned, this past Friday, my mates and I caught ‘Steamboy’ on the big screen. I don’t know if it was worth almost a ten-year wait, and there were a couple of similarities between it and ‘Giant robo’ (mad scientist overzealous inventor creates the Shizuma drive the Steam Ball, an unlimited fuel source that several parties want for themselves; also, Ray Steam’s granddad bore more than a passing resemblance to Franken von Folger), but we all agreed that it was pretty ace. I’ll give you this — it was indeed an ‘orgy of destruction’, as some review wag typed. Remember what happened to Neo-Tokyo towards the end of ‘Akira’? Well, ‘Steamboy’ gets rather close to that… *sigh* Gotta add that to my list of DVDs now…
Also, before we headed our separate ways after the film, Tim mentioned that he got four tickets to go see Bloc party, so I guess I’ll be at that show. I’ll be sure to wear comfortable shoes this time…

On Saturday eve, Derek, Tomas & I convened at Jeff’s abode, and watched ‘The Incredibles’ (which was better than I expected it to be) and the second ‘Lady Snowblood’ film. That Meiko Kaji’s a hottie, even when she’s drenched in the blood of her enemies. She’s got moxie!

Sunday I had full intention of taking a brand-new portrait of myself with Shi-chan, but the zit on the bridge of my nose prevented me from doing so. Gah. Hopefully later this week..

And there’s this thing.

is a Giant Robot that fires Rockets, has Enormous Tusks, is Poisonous, and Tunnels Underground.

Strength: 10 Agility: 4 Intelligence: 8

To see if your Giant Battle Monster can
defeat Davecat, enter your name and choose an attack:

fights Davecat using

‘”Poisonous”? But who would attempt to eat a robot?’ you ask. ‘And a giant one at that?’ No matter! Fight me, damnit! FIGHT ME!!

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This was the Future, Vol.07

typed for your pleasure on 19 March 2005, at 5.25 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Stairway to promotion’ by The Gerogerigegege

Pack yr architecturally romantic mind, as today, we cover the Trellick tower in west London, England, designed by Ernö Goldfinger. *cue Shirley Bassey*

In true Modernist fashion, Goldfinger’s Tower paid little heed to its surroundings- it dwarves nearby buildings, and its Brutalist concrete exterior makes it even more striking. It is a building which also paid little attention to the worries about Modernist housing in the late 1960s.

Trellick tower is a fine and standard example of the Brutalist style that took up a good part of Sixties architectural design. They were assembled in a style that ‘remained true to the material’, which resulted in buildings that were so lacking in grace that their monolithic ‘ugliness’ became beautiful in and of itself. (What can I say? I dig tower blocks..)

And as the story goes, Bond author Ian Fleming despised both Ernö and his aesthetic sense so much, that he took Goldfinger’s surname for his own villainous creation. That’s fame, baby!
‘No, Mr Bond, I expect you to die!!’ *cue Shirley Bassey*

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