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Dissonance - Consonance - Assonance - Assurance
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mantra
parody's biggest problem is
that it often goes unnoticed

:: saturday, september 15 ::


If this shadow has offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While this vision did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, I will mend:
And, as I am an honest shmuck,
If we have unearned luck
Now without bursting into song,
We will make amends ere long;
Else this shmuck a liar call;
So, goodbye unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Loki shall restore amends.


: joel g 9/15/2001 09:58:07 PM [+]
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:: saturday, september 8 ::
(Edited for relevance Sept 10 2001)

Routed in Routine

One week in, and I'm behind in class already. The frightful thing is that I know it will stay this way until nearly the end of the semester. I need a schedule to which to hold myself, since structure is what helps me assign my time checklist-wise. (ie. "Did I read my theory selections?" Check. "Did I photocopy the lingusitics notes for the week?" Check. "Did I jog yet?" Check. "Did I go to work yet?" etc.)
I am at best a biological automaton with an overactive insecurity all-systems-go-rhythm.

READ: MSND, online, because I enjoy tormenting my eyes.
LEARN: WebCT, the online portion for one of my classes, with a simple URL I can never remember.
LISTEN: "Brick" from Ben Folds Five. Sadness is a gift.
SUCKA: Pity the foo!
: loki seven 9/8/2001 11:33:46 PM [+]
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:: friday, september 7 ::
Are you ready for redemption?
I think I scared a bunch of people lately. I am neither a religious zealot, nor a pseudo-mythic. I'm not a monk, a soothsayer, a prophet, a seer, or psychotic. I am at best a degenerate and derivative writer; I am at worst a waking rip-off of Glass and the Machines of God who takes mythos a bit too seriously. I either need to get this all out of my system, or find something else to obsess me.
As it turns out, I really need either more of everything that bothers me or nothing of all that I enjoy. Speaking of which, I need to read Shakespeare, and I missed Jay & Silent Bob in the local theatres already.

READ: MSND, 'cause I think I finally understand it.
WATCH: The whole 'Teletoon Unleashed' block on weekends. I am such a Mission Hill type of guy.
LISTEN: "Pagan Poetry" by Bjork. An ethereal experience.
APPRECIATE: Vaseline Afterbirth or Virex, grand extrapolations of my obsession.
: loki seven 9/7/2001 11:20:44 PM [+]
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:: thursday, september 6 ::
Ex Libris Juvenalia
It appears that I will be attending my class with either a) a horde of youngsters, most of which went to school with my younger brother, or b) a horde of youngsters that I have worked with. In either case, life's too good. I somewhat realize why I stopped being an English major (ie: the incestuous nature of Anglophilia over all else, including but not limited to social interaction, popular culture, and bathing), but I also can't wait to get my mind flowing in a more structured manner again.
I think the best/worst part of this will be my creative writing class. I'm the oddball already, since the other 8 were in the same class last year; on the other hand, I have eight fresh new minds to corrupt. This is my reward for attending all of my other courses.

READ: Midsummer Night's Dream, by some guy name Shake-a-stick. Figures, the one comedy I didn't read is the one we start with.
WATCH: The Oblongs, a Spumco-esque cartoon voiced by Will Ferrell on Teletoon.
LISTEN: Amnesiac by Radiohead. Yes, Brian, you can stop bothering me now.
LISTEN #2: Bjork's Hybrid -- if she didn't remix every damn track on an album, I wouldn't feel guilty about buying bootleg compilations.
: loki seven 9/6/2001 11:08:35 AM [+]
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:: monday, september 3 ::
Wireless
Step-by-step directions on how to duplicate the state of myself over the last 48 hours: Wake up ungodly early because you are unable to breathe. Jog 2 miles, without breathing through your nose. Stay out not-too-late, but late enough so that you fall asleep immediately upon hitting your bed. Wake up 4 hours later, unable to breathe. Jog another 2 miles. Read a book upside-down, written in another language, on a subject that doesn't exactly excite you. Attempt to humour the humourless.
Work 14 hours straight.
Sleep for 4 hours, again because you cannot breathe through your nose. By this time your eyes should feel like they were sealed with translucent packing tape, and they can't be opened to save your life. Spend a stunning amount of time reading useless jargon online, only to collapse into sleep at random intervals. And then jog again, only half a mile, and stop because you can't breathe at all.
Needless to say, I am becoming ill.

ART: Tomorrow, Vespertine. Stick around for joy.
FINALLY: Teletoon goes adult, and I get to rot my mind with other people's neuroses for a change.
RAWK: Joydrop. Yeah, I know two songs, so what? They're better than you.
QUOTE: "Are those the guys who are lepers?" -- my sister, talking about the Smalls.
: loki seven 9/3/2001 10:09:11 PM [+]
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:: saturday, september 1 ::
"Good Taste" as the enemy of Art
It would seem that I hit too hard below the belt. Those who live by the sword die by it. I'm sorry; I didn't mean it; I'm only in it for fun. I expect the same burn back. I don't know how many times I've had to say that to people in last few months. Do people take me more seriously than others? Am I too extreme? Or do people not learn to take me with coarse salt. Obviously I have a horrible self-esteem problem.
I almost fear what sort of traffic I'm attracting. Sure, I borrow from the Loki 7 mythos, but there is no way in hell that I approve/acknowledge/agree with his methods, ideas, theories, or symbols. See my disclaimer as well. I chose this URL and this persona because I am a) intrigued by the Nordic mythos (and I will eventually get around to organizing the whole story), and b) I appreciate the results of the historical Loki 7's actions (the results, not the actions themselves!), ie, the way he woke the province from its calm slumber, invoked a degree of necessary paranoia, and proved that yes, it CAN happen here.
If I've offended anyone, I'm sorry. If this apology offends people, I'm sorry. If you wanted regular updates on par with my usual dithyrambics, I'm sorry; come back later.

READ: Aristotle's Poetics. Turns out I was reading the wrong ones.
WATCH: Futurama, 'cause Bender makes me bust a nut.
REJOICE: Only 37 more days until my brother returns home. Which means I've got 37 more days of enjoying the limelight.
: loki seven 9/1/2001 11:07:25 PM [+]
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:: friday, august 31 ::
The laws of physics no longer apply here or Suburban assault mechanism
I've spent too much -- entirely too much -- time not writing. I fully intend to grind out 10+ pages a week for the next 4 months, come hell or high water. I almost wish it was something obscene or mind-blowingly grotesque, instead of my usual mundane moments of restrained disillusionment. I guess frustration breeds violence.
This is supposed to be a sort-of internal monologue of a LokiSeven-esque character that I was developing / externalisation of a pseudonym / excercise at free-writing, but it may have evolved to the point of becoming a free-standing mock-prose effort.
Obviously, this is all mockery. You didn't know that?
Pity.

READ: Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude, a book of which I'm surprised more people have not heard.
LISTEN: "Dirty Epic," from Underworld's exemplary Dubnobasswithmyheadman. It gives me an excuse to say "You're so dirty," and yet still quote a hyper-literate song.
EXPERIENCE: Vincentland, the great-grand-pappy of the burgeoning Island Blog Scene. Of which I am the sullen, moody, Rochesterian anti-hero.
FRET: Nineteen isn't old if you're eighteen. Nineteen is sorta young if you're twenty-ish. Nineteen is much too old if you're seventeen. Case closed.
: loki seven 8/31/2001 11:17:12 PM [+]
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:: thursday, august 30 ::
Everything, Everything
Oh, what a silly symphony. Ranging from paying duties of $30 in quarters -- quarters! -- to talking shop about horrible relationships (and relations); to falling to the mat in a fit of laughter with the freshly-minted webmistress of Uberphat at work and being floored by the intricacies of Aristotle's Poetics, its been a full day all 'round. I fear what the morrow might bring.
I'm not as winded as I used to be, and in fact, I think I'm actually getting better. I swear, the best thing that you can possibly due for yourself is run. Just run. Shut up, don't look at yourself, just get up out of bed, get off the couch, and run. Wheeze. Sweat. But do it every day. I never thought I'd be one to admit that, but I feel so juiced afterwards that I wonder if I am becoming addicted.

READ: Aristotle's Poetics. Yes, I am serious.
LISTEN: "Crystal Clear." From Goldie's magnum opus Saturnzreturn.
EXPERIENCE: Ed the Sock, perhaps the funniest thing on TV since Bill's jamboree.
SMOKE: French crack. It is, how-do-you-say, massively nasty.
: loki seven 8/30/2001 11:29:49 PM [+]
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:: wednesday, august 29 ::
Robaxicet, Aceteminophen, Apo-Tetra, and me
Well, I've managed to trim the site's clutter somewhat, and remove some dead links. I'm in no real mood to update much else right now, since my flawed biology is betraying me again.
I probably should have done more or planned less, but this uncomfortable middle-ground is where I'll stay for the time being.
I am not incomplete, you are flawed.

: loki seven 8/29/2001 12:37:33 AM [+]
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:: monday, august 27 ::
Anyway, Susan
This is not a diary; this is an ongoing character sketch.
This is not sadness, this is hatred unfocused.
This is not random, this has been divinely ordained.
This is not indecision, this is indecision in the face of uncountable options.

CHANT: The Greatest Canadian song ever.
: loki seven 8/27/2001 09:50:17 PM [+]
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