This is something I made for a film class. I became enamoured with the ridiculous idea of a “blind video”, and of the story being about only the audience. This was the result.

This is the second half of a video I made as part of a Psychology Group Project.

I bought an album through iTunes awhile ago. When seeing the same album in a record store, it felt as though I didn’t already own the album, I just somehow knew the songs. There’s something strange about buying digital music. It’s cheaper, faster, more convenient, but less satisfying. There’s a connection you can have when the music is in the form of a tangible object–a record you can hold in your hands, a sleeve you can carefully examine. It’s real; it matters.

How many people used to spend their days lying on the floor, tangled up in a headphones cable, fully immersed in their favourite tunes? Not so anymore. Now it’s all about convenience. Music is just background entertainment that you play on your iPod while you go about your day. You hardly pay attention to the music. Same goes for stereo equipment. People lusted over giant stereo speakers and pristine audio; now cheap computer speakers are fine. So it’s interesting that Apple’s iTunes store will now be selling “Digital 45s”–digital downloads designed to emulate the original vinyl record, including an A Side, a B Side and artwork. Now this is a pleasantly nostalgic offering for vinyl aficionados, but it does seem a little gimmicky. I consider it a welcome addition to the iTunes store, which had already revitalized the idea of “singles” by offering individual track downloads for 99 cents, but the fact remains that there is something lost when music is completely digital. Is it just the lack of a tangible object? A burnt CD never seems quite so satisfying as an official one. Is it the artwork then? Digital artwork never quite does the trick either. Maybe it’s just more than the sum of its parts. A physical record lives and breathes and exists to saturate your very being with glorious waves of music. It even has a smell; it holds memories. A scuffed record sleeve or jewel case has stood by you over the years. A digital download consists of ones and zeros, cold and calculated; it is there and then it is gone without a trace. There is little connection and the music becomes less important, less satisfying, less tangible. Is that really worth the convenience of digital downloads?

It’s interesting that years after vinyl was phased out, it has seen a strong renaissance. Current albums continue to see a vinyl release and vintage albums are readily available. Despite moving to new technologies, there are always those who realize what these new conveniences lack and are only too happy to sacrifice convenience for quality.

Despite all this, I like the iTunes store. I think that the cheaper price makes it easier to experiment with new music and internet distribution brings fledgling artists to a worldwide audience without the need for a traditional distributor. But I’ll always yearn for a turntable.

I sat down to detail my fury after a righteous whirlwind of flailing about. But… I couldn’t help but be reminded of a delightful little video of Rick Mercer addressing the very same issue. In fact, it so delighted me that I abandoned my essay and plastered the video onto this page. Once again, leave it to the satirists to find the hidden truths and the clearest perspective.

Let me start again.

Stephen Harper is a bad economist. Rather than supporting this country with the economic stimulus it needs, he has chosen to make partisan attacks and settle old grudges. He acts as a dictator, running on tactics and deception, rather than the leader of a minority government who relies on the support of Parliament. So, having again failed to receive a majority government, he devised a plan to destroy the opposition by proposing the elimination of public subsidies for political parties. While saving the government a measly $27 million dollars, this would effectively cripple the opposition parties. The Conservatives, receiving a large portion of their funds from the private sector, would be the only party financially able to run a strong campaign and otherwise support themselves. Talk about cartoonish villainy.

Consequently, as the already broken Liberals lay in the corner, about to receive the final blow, they did the only thing they could: band together with everyone else.

coalition-protest—3 by preciouskhyatt on Flickr / used with permission

The proposed coalition has sparked a great deal of controversy among Canadians, many of whom mistakenly believe it to be a “coup d’état” or somehow “unconstitutional”. The Conservatives are well aware that few Canadians understand how their own government works and have encouraged myths such as that the Prime Minister was elected directly by the people, that this is an affront to democracy, and that the country will be torn apart by separatists and fly into chaos. Stephen Harper went on television and declared as much, demonizing the Bloc and escalating this situation into a national unity crisis.

In perfect spin-journalism fashion, CTV, among others, has taken to repeating the rhetoric spouted by the Conservative propaganda machine, rather than reporting the news from an objective standpoint. It’s no wonder people are confused.

While the coalition is between the Liberals and the NDP, the Bloc is agreeing to offer support for at least 18 months, so as to create the 163 seats needed to maintain the confidence of the House. Does the Bloc’s involvement pose any sort of threat? Not likely. No allowances for the status of Quebec were made while negotiating the terms, and it is unlikely that such demands will be made. Should the Bloc suddenly go berserk, as Harper claims, the coalition would be dissolved and an election would be called. Many people forget that the Bloc Quebecois are not solely a separatist party; they are a social democratic party and receive votes for a multitude of reasons. Not only has separatism had little support as of late, the Bloc Quebecois didn’t even campaign on it in the last election.

In 2004, during the Martin government, Harper signed a similar agreement with the NDP and the Bloc, hoping to take power as a coalition. He didn’t seem very worried back then.

As for being somehow “unconstitutional”, the Canadian Constitution does not even make reference to a Prime Minister. The Prime Minister is chosen when a single member of Parliament, usually the leader of the party with the most seats, has the confidence of the House. Canadians vote for nothing more than the member of Parliament in their local constituency. The members of Parliament are not changing; this is merely a shuffling of seats.

Could a coalition government be stable? Though typical in many countries such as Australia and New Zealand, federal coalition governments are uncommon in Canada; the only one to ever exist was between the Liberals and Conservatives from 1917 to 1921. As an article from the Toronto Star points out, however, a number of successful provincial coalition governments have been carried out as recently as five years ago.

A coalition government does not appear appear fraught with peril, as many believe. It may very well be the stable co-operation of political parties this country needs to effectively prepare for the economic onslaught ahead–something we will not receive from the Conservatives as long as Harper is in charge.

Regardless of whether you want to see a coalition, there is no denying that the situation does not look good for anyone.

Harper has overstepped his bounds a time too many, re-ignited flames of the separatist movement, lost the support that had been gained in Quebec, and many of his own Conservatives have turned against him. He’s demonstrated that he cares not for the welfare of the people of Canada, but rather about his own petty partisan agenda.

The Liberals have bungled their way through the process, consistently being outclassed by the NDP, until finally ousting Dion in favour of a more popular, yet noncommittal, leader.

The NDP look guilty of attempting a power-grab, stating that they would be voting against the budget, regardless of what it was.

The only one without egg on his face is perhaps Gilles Duceppe. The Bloc have now gained additional support from Quebecois who feel alienated or downright offended by Harper’s attacks.

All in all, a coalition sounds like a substantial improvement over our current dictator-style arrangement. But what is the heart of the issue that people have woefully overlooked? Well, Rick said it best, so you may as well hear it from him:

If the countries of the world were having a party and Canada was sitting at the bar lonely and forlorn, drowning its sorrows over some margaritas and Malibu-type concoctions, and Europe (a single entity) stumbled over to strike up a conversation–each finding some sort of solace in the other’s company, eventually throwing in some small-talk about how much more wonderful things are when measured metrically–before slurring something unintelligible but seemingly charming, then giving way to some messy display of drunken passion, ending with the two of them waking on the coatroom floor, hungover and embarrassed, only to find, several weeks later, that Canada is pregnant and Europe said its name was Eureka and gave a bad phone number……Montreal would be that bastard child.

Montreal is a very cool city. It has a very unique blend of North American and European styles, new and old and French and English architecture. It really doesn’t feel at all like Canada. Furthermore, I suspect Quebec to be a province superior in transportation and yogurt technologies. There’s something strange about Quebec, though. Apparently, there is an accent so thick it almost sounds like they’re speaking another language. Half the time I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying. Someone approached me once and said what sounded like “Bonjour, comment appelle tu?” I assumed he was trying to say “Bozo! Come on, I’ll pelt you!” So having no other choice, I sprung into action, blinding him with my camera flash and tackling him to the ground before flailing down the street, nearly tripping over his jettisoned crutches in the process. I was lucky to escape unscathed. In my panic I came upon a nice woman with broad shoulders and a five o’clock shadow who took me to a safe place full of ladies in fancy, glittery dress with exotic hairdos and glamorous names. And let me tell you…karaoke like nobody’s business!

The city is nice for wandering. I toured the Concordia University campuses, rode a moped up to Mount Royal, ate gourmet poutine with complimentary angioplasty and so on. The “Underground City,” expanding over 32km seemed to transcend space and time (more so space), but is more impressive in theory than anything. The city also holds my favourite hostel, run by a wonderful cast of characters.

After about a week I headed back west, spending a night in Ottawa (courtesy of my kind cousinish fellow, Stephen). Most of the wandering was done in the dark hours of the evening, thankfully. Even the most mundane buildings become magical when lit up. It’s a strange place with its cold, government-town feel, but still nice.

Toronto is surprisingly comfortable. It has a big, busy, North American metropolitan look to it, but is friendlier than one might expect. Hanging out in the downtown entertainment district, it can be hard to see much more than scrambling consumerism and hollow glamour atop a foundation of corporations and big business, but the city is enticing all the same.

I must now prepare for a night bus to New York. I hope you’re enjoying your goings-on. This writing may be the product of delirium due to lack of sleep.

Further south, the city is much less touristy and has a lot more substance to it. It was nice wandering around though my trip was cut short, first by my extended stay in Berlin and then my surprise illness. All in all, I found the city did not quite agree with me and I found myself relieved to return to London. I decided to spend my last remaining days wandering around the streets of Camden. It boasts a lovely mix of alternative fashions and an incredibly active music scene. Now I have a flight to prepare for and I do not foresee any sleep in the coming couple of days.

It’s fashion week in Berlin and there was a big fashion/high-society event earlier in and around the Russian embassy, which I hung around to see a bit of. Didn’t you know I’m among the fashion industry’s foremost elite? Of course, I spent most of my time there past the armed guard and behind the barrier, so as to not take the spotlight away from the lesser celebrities who probably need the attention more than I do. I loathe these things, yet find the insincerity of mingling personalities mildly fascinating.

After wandering the city with a friend I’d met in Prague, we ended up being invited to a sort of bohemian dinner.. a kind of art-community hipster gathering. I would like to describe it as a sort of Warholian mix, though that might be an exaggeration and there was no Velvet Underground (the latin jazz was nice though). The food was quite excellent. I seem to be a magnet for former New Yorkers.

Cycling around Berlin is, well, a joy. It’s very much designed for bike travel (I haven’t actually ridden a bike in…10 years?) Last night I ended up heading with a couple of roommates to a sort of giant, art-squat-turned-trendy hangout area. The energy of the city is amazing. I’m actually cutting my Amsterdam/London time short so I can spend more time here. It was cool and nice the first couple of days; now it is scorchingly hot, but I will forgive the climate because Berlin is wonderful.

I spent a day out at the concentration camp earlier. A great deal of my time here has been spent studying World War II and the Cold War. I’ve also embarked on several historical walking tours in the last few days regarding these eras (five if you include the one I did twice).

It turns out I’m not going to be able to change my flight, so I’ll be flying back at the end of the month, being taken to a family reunion, then off through Alberta, then a couple of places in Saskatchewan, then taking a very long bus ride to Montreal and probably Toronto to check out the cities and maybe talk to the University faculties about what they can offer me (I figure I’m SO important, they should have to woo me for my enrollment), THEN off to Vancouver/Victoria for similar city-seeing and University investigating. And then back to my former residence. Eventually. Travelling is very good for getting yourself excited about things and realizing how stifled you were in a small town….for instance.

The thought of leaving Europe is very strange and I have mixed feelings. (There will be a bizarre bout of culture shock, I’m sure.) It occurred to me the other day that I am currently without a home and will not return to the Okanagan for any length of time until October. This pleases me and I enjoy the nomadic quality. Tomorrow I’m off to the Netherlands and then to London to prepare for my flight at the end of the month.

Did you know that the cost of housing in Berlin is almost comparable to that of Canada? Bizarre but true. I will return to Berlin–perhaps indefinitely.

On Julie’s recommendation, I headed to San Sebastian after Barcelona. It was a wonderful town and it felt nice to have a break from the hectic frenzy of the major cities. One thing about Spain…it’s open late. It sleeps late. It goes out late. A lot of the dining establishments don’t even open until 9pm or so. Then everyone is out wandering the streets, casually going for tapas, dinner, etc. until very, very late. It’s very lively. I think there should be one in Canada. I had a good hostel (run by someone resembling a Spanish Bruce Willis with a penchant for practical jokes). It’s sort of a beach town and I’d considered surfing, but it was far too expensive, so I spent a couple of hours doing a sort of bodysurfing instead, getting tossed around by great big waves. This was done very close to the shore, resulting in a sort of sand/rock equivalent of road rash, being repeatedly driven into the ground, but fun all the same. If you ever have the opportunity to listen to Julie, I highly recommend it.

After flailing about for a couple of days, trying to figure out how to reach Florence from my new, northern location, I settled on taking a bus to a nearby town and from there taking a last-minute flight to Rome. That’s right, Rome. So I got up at the crack of dawn to catch a bus (which I missed, having not realized the vast amount of land I would need to cover from my hostel all the way to the bus station), and caught the next.

Rome is hot. Very hot. I would go so far as to say unnecessarily hot. I would go into the Good Morning Vietnam monologue, but I’m sure you’ve heard it before. I spent only a couple of days in Rome, which were less positive than they could have been. This was due in large part, of course, by the resurgence of my arch nemesis: the sun. For some time, the sun and I had reached an agreement; it would shine during the day and I would operate mainly at night. This worked quite well until I started travelling and have since been met with a feeling akin to that of an ant under a magnifying glass. My hostel was unpleasantly night-clubesque, though an interesting experience all the same. My stay essentially consisted of me wandering downtown, getting very sick from the sun/heat and finally spending several hours lugging an increasingly hefty backpack around a train station, during a rail-strike, while trying to find someone who knew what train would actually be able to take me to Florence. What I did see was quite amazing, and the history dates so far back it’s incredible to see these places still there. Unfortunately, I became bedridden before I had a chance to explore the Vatican. Rome will need to be revisited. Perhaps in the winter. With a companion.

Anyway, I did get finally get to Florence. Florence was wonderful–perhaps one of my favourite cities. It’s a gorgeous place and there’s so much art and beauty everywhere. Due to accommodation shortages, I ended up staying in a camping area near the edge of town which overlooked the center of the city. One night, I observed what is undoubtedly the most spectacular display of fireworks I’ve seen, illuminating the Florence skyline.

In Venice, I stayed in a camping area again. I did not explore any galleries, etc, save for one cathedral in the center of town. There are over 400 bridges there. I have no idea how people find their way around–the streets are very labyrinthine. The city was quite touristy, but pretty all the same. One day, it began raining very hard and I stood and watched as the water surrounding the buildings crashed and waved as though it might wash us all away.

Despite the massiveness of the city and large population, Vienna was regarded as very quiet and safe. In fact, it seemed perplexingly well-behaved. I had hoped to see an opera while visiting Vienna as standing tickets are quite cheap; however, it had just recently shut down for the summer. I did spend some time traipsing through Freud’s old study, saw where Bram Stoker wrote a fair bit of Dracula, even caught some live Rocky Horror numbers. I went out to the giant ferris wheel (I’ve completely forgotten the name) one night with a couple of people from my hostel. The wheel itself was not entirely breathtaking, but the surrounding amusement park–both active and almost deserted–was a wonderful sight. There’s something very surreal and eerie about an abandoned amusement park. Driverless bumper cars, empty rollercoasters, ticket-takers resembling mannequins insides their neon booths. Frozen in time and full of ghosts.

By the time I reached the Old Town area of Prague and saw hordes of tourists flooding through rows of chain stores, souvenir shops and Czech hot dog stands, I realized I was very tired. After seeing so many worldclass galleries, etc in such a short space of time, one needs a break to process and digest. I have made a point of not seeing the National Gallery. I did, however, stumble upon a photo gallery by Jan Saudek which was quite superb and enjoyable and a nice surprise. Had I more time in the Czech Republic, I would make an excursion to one of the nearby towns which are less visited and likely more authentic, though I need to move on due to my recently developed deadline. Still, I enjoy Prague. My hostel is located outside of the city center, away from the high-traffic areas and it’s nice to wander around in. The restaurants are nice and inexpensive and the trams run quite regularly. The beautiful architecture lives up to its reputation as some of the most untouched in Europe.

I came upon the most amazing club in Prague. It’s designed as a sort of Mad Maxian, post-apocalyptic, industrial place. Words cannot do it justice. While I was there, I saw a band with a funk/psychedelic electric sitar rigged through a wah-wah and a rack mount, backed by an incredibly solid drum/bass duo. This was followed by a DJ/African percussion duo which was also quite good. On the lower level, another performance area saw another group playing. The average quality of music at public performances here is very high. Anyway, if you happen to find yourself in Prague, it’s called the Cross Club. Bring clean clothes because you may soil yourself upon arriving. I’m serious. Bring clean clothes.

That’s all I’m going to bother writing about. You’ve read this far; go have a rest or something. I hope you’ve been somewhat entertained. Just be glad I’m not going to make you sit through pictures.

My last few days in Paris, I spent a decent amount of time around the Luxembourg Gardens. At one point of longing for familiarities, I opted to see a film: “La Faille” (Subtitled, not dubbed) I’m not sure what it’s called in English, but it’s starring Anthony Hopkins and Ryan Gosling. It was enjoyable and seemed strangely surreal. You also learn a lot of new French words this way. I went up the Eiffel Tower one night (actually my birthday–mildly bizarre) and stayed there for a few hours until dark when the city lit up. I began to enjoy attempting to speak French.

After a 24-hour trek through France and Spain (NEVER get on the wrong car–this is very important) I arrived in Madrid. It’s difficult not to compare cities; having no expectations for Spain, I was quite pleasantly surprised. Madrid was much warmer (figuratively as well as literally) than Paris or London and the atmosphere was much more lively. I wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if a party had broken out at any given moment. Speaking Spanish is an interesting challenge–French is at least familiar even when not entirely understood. The Reina Sofia is, of course, wonderful (and Dali’s work is much more satisfying than that in the Dali Espace Montmartre in Paris).

Barcelona is, as one might imagine, seemingly consumed by nightlife. The architecture is awe-inspiring–it’s definitely a gorgeous city. I’ve spent most of my time wandering through Old Town, but even the newer areas are very well designed. La Ramblas at night is very interesting. Catalan is the official language in Barcelona, but Spanish seems to be sufficient.

I had originally considered heading out to the Cote d’Azur, but had decided against it. Julie has, however, convinced me to make an excursion out to San Sebastian for a couple of days before heading to Italy. Travelling through major cities is very enjoyable, but I find myself getting worn down, constantly on the go. I will look forward to a couple of days of good beach-times.

I swam in the sea today. It was so cold I was the only one in (it wasn’t that bad by Canadian standards–you’d just hear a whole chorus of “Well, it’s warm once you get in there!”) The beaches are quite lovely and I enjoy the vacant horizon (and are apparently at war with my ravaged feet who are not accustomed to the jagged terrain on which they must plant themselves).

Salt water is really gross. If someone were to offer you a glass of freshly-scooped salt water, it would be best to decline.

It’s getting more into tourist season and it’s starting to get harder to find places to stay (so much for spontaneity) so I may end up camping in Rome. Food is always good. Sangria, banana juice, tapas, and yet more bread. When I was in Paris, I discovered Nutella (it had somehow eluded me all these years). Hazelnut chocolate in the form of a sandwich spread is a dangerous thing.

That concludes my incoherent update. I hope it was informative, thought provoking and catalytic in creating stricter environmental protocols. I must now go to bed.