Last week, I was given a gift that will test my ability to be nutritious and nurturous (a word that should really be in the dictionary). Included in this gift was a bag of soil, 2 bags of seeds and an elephant to quench the thirst and to serve to the seedlings, their beverage of choice. I have been given the gift of food, the gift of life, the gift of wheatgrass. Now, this is a completely different take on the gift giving spectrum, one of which I am now an advocate. The idea of giving someone a gift for them simply to enjoy is fantastic, however, why not go the extra mile, and give them something that they can work towards, something that they will be proud to say that they created; go on and give them the power of God. Wheatgrass is not only aesthetically appealing, but if you eat it, you’re tummy will thank you. It is very easy to grow and simple to take care of, so if it dies, it can act as an indicator as to whether or not I should be allowed to have a girlfriend. It is the variety of lawn you don’t need to mow, and the class of grass not illegal to grow, what a brilliant, savoury patch of green.

- Sean 

Georgia Straight 

My Cure for the Common Cold

It is apparent that the changing of the seasons has come, and along with it, my health. After 4 months of easy breathing and simple sleeping, my immune system has taken a rest and decided to send me to bed, but not before inflating my head. It’s been so long since I’ve been caught in the crossfire of an epic battle, but my immune system, so it seems, has come up with a robust and reinforced battle strategy that is sure to send those picornavirus’ swimming right on back home.

I forgot how much this battle takes its toll on energy, and I’ve realized that it is a feeling that is certainly not missed when it lays dormant. However, in the meantime I will just nurse myself back to good health with the comforting assistance of my extremely uncomfortable, but not unattractive, leather couch, which I found myself stuck to when I woke up from my sweaty slumber yesterday afternoon.

On a lighter note, I am feeling 17% better this afternoon, and have actually coaxed myself into leaving my apartment to take a brisk walk and run some errands. Now I sit in the window of the coffee shop at the end of my alley and enjoy a warm cappuccino with a frothy heart floating on top.

Could this be a sign? A symbol for some sort of sought out peace perhaps? This is what I needed. Why should I spend my whole weekend fighting? Can’t we all just get along? Immune system... picornavirus... come on now. Just grab a seat, relax, swallow back some java and we’ll talk about this like civilized beings. Don’t say no, because I’m buying. We’ll peer through the pyramid of used tissues that I have assembled and come to some sort of mutual understanding. We can cure the common cold.

Nature Took It All Back

Weeds grow through our sidewalks,
and rain turns cars to rust
Wind puts out our cigarettes,
and the sun turns skin to dust
Moss grows on our homes you see,
and roots cause roads to crack
Ants will march away our fruit,
When nature takes it back.

Let's face it -- English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat.

We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend, that you comb through annals of history but not a single annal? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preacher praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? If you wrote a letter, perhaps you bote your tongue?

Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to anasylum for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at aplay and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? Park on driveways and drive on parkways?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and wise guy are opposites? How can overlook and oversee be opposites, while quite a lot and quite a few are alike? How can the weather be hot as hell one day and cold as hell another?

Have you noticed that we talk about certain things only when they are absent? Have you ever seen a horseful carriage or a strapful gown? Met a sung hero or experienced requited love? Have you ever run into someone who was combobulated, gruntled, ruly or peccable?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm clock goes off by going on.

English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn't a race at all). That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible. And why, when I wind up my watch, I start it, but when I wind up this essay, I end it?

Beautiful Translations

Hay cientos de idiomas en el mundo, pero una sonrisa los hablan todo. 세계에 있는 언어의 수백이 있다, 그러나 미소는 그들을 전부 말한다. Il y a des centaines de langues dans le monde, mais un sourire les parle tout. Es gibt Hunderte von Sprachen in der Welt, aber ein Lächeln spricht sie alle. 有成百在世界上的语言，但是一个微笑说他们大家。Ci sono delle centinaia di lingue nel mondo, ma un sorriso parla tutti loro. Er zijn honderden talen in de wereld, maar een glimlach spreekt hen iedereen.
"THERE ARE HUNDREDS OF LANGUAGES IN THE WORLD, BUT A SMILE SPEAKS THEM ALL."
Há centenas de linguagens no mundo, mas um sorriso os fala todo. Есть сотни языков в мире, но улыбка говорит их всех. Det er hundrevis av språks i verdenen, men en å smile taler dem all. 世界の中に何百もの言語があります、しかし、微笑がそれらの全てを話します。Υπάρχουν εκατοντάδες των γλωσσών στον κόσμο, αλλά ένα χαμόγελο τις μιλά όλες. Det finns hundratals språk i världen, men ett leende talar alla dem. هناك مئات اللغات في العالم, غير أنّ يتكلّمهم ابتسام كلّ.

Its as though she holds the sun in her hands
and it shows in the way she shines
she is what keeps you warm
she is an influence on what you are growing to be
and is successful in brightening up your day.
Oh and how she must enjoy a power so great
as to make clothing optional whenever shes around
and although she may not know it,
she has something that keeps you alive

Dear Old Greenland

Friends, Greenland is a place where souls go to dry out
It is a vast and terrifying place of ice fields and tundra
Bereft of fire and in the horror of its imposing irrelevance
There is a peace
The peace of pain
The peace of nothing
Well friends, I’m going there
Fear is lying dying in the sands
And it’s breathing from the gills of my Greenland.

Learning from the Master

Today was a super special day, as I was lucky enough to meet the Master of the djembe, hailing out of Guinea, Mamady Keita. For such a little guy he packs quite the punch when it comes to percussion. He schooled me in more ways than one, as I was taught, and then later amazed by his ability to show me up. An African percussion show will be taking place this Saturday at 1415 Broad St, in which Mamady may or may not be playing (he will if he wants to... imagine having that kind of power!).

Today I saw a hawk fly away with a baby bunny in its mouth...
...fucking hawks....

I can only hope that tomorrow will give to me, the pleasure of observing a baby bunny fly away with a hawk in its mouth...
...think about it...

My First Poem

The first night of the rest of your life
and the relationship of sole and cobblestone
was never so slender,
your feet hardly nudged the ground.
Just as alive as I was
and more alive than I am.

We sat in a place with a view
A place where one could look down if they wanted to
A place where the sound of an 8 peice lived in our heads
Just for an hour or two.
A place where my taste was contended,
A place where games were lost, fixed and forgotten,
A place where our poison was delivered right to our lips
I say it's about time.

I am the eldest of everyone here.

The second morning of the rest of your life
and the relationship of sole and cobblestone
was never so slender,
swiffers sweeping the streets.
Just as swift as I was
more swift than I am.

We sat at a place in the corner
A place where regulars stared at the new group of foreigners
A place where a sign of attraction was handed out
in the peanuts thrown toward her
A place where we floated along shells
A place where overalls were a fashion statement
A place where undergarments are discarded onto the ceiling
I say it's about time

The Fork Contagion

Imagine the world the day we run out of forks and are forced to eat with our hands. Only then shall we aspire to make friends with the masses of the chopstick user. Sure we could ignore the epidemic completely and attempt to make use of our other cutleries; however, spoons are certainly not practical when dealing with noodles. No longer will we abuse the presence of our silver counterpart by bending them with our minds, or threatening to insert them into our buddy’s eye, oh, no no; we will use them to their full potential and purpose, for we may not have much time left to share with our gadgets.

Ships.

Friendships, relationships and all the other ships

That sail through the storms in the waters of our lives
The pleasant times are yours
You're going to need them to survive
Give romance a whirl and maybe play a game or two
It all may seem frivolous to your practical side
but the relaxation will energize you
for days to come
and they will come

Behold, a Coat for the Cold

Today I bought a new sweater.
It’s black and as light as a feather.
It won’t keep my dry from the weather.
For that, a coat could do better.

Aum is where the Heart is

Floating back towards the little rock where I have decided to take off my jacket and stay awhile. I have recently discovered Mom doesn’t take kindly to the fact I am calling it home.

The Moustache of Understanding

Feeling fresh this morning as I have been groomed like a favoured pet at Christmas. Evidently Christmas had come late this year. My whiskers were graven, and I was clean-shaven, a practitioner of hair conditioner, propositioned only under the condition that I was conditioned, I was lewd, nude, and shampooed, but I’d rather be lathered by you. After a few weeks of unsuccessful growth, I decided to prune my face, or whatever had decided to peek through the surface of my dermis. For those who are in the same schooner as I am, I have found something that is sure to help you in achieving your dream of owning your very own righteous beard:

Yes, it is true, now you can actually select the way you want to look. Older, Younger, Distinguished, Cool, Suave – you name it! Wear each one independently or combine them for the effect you desire. All items made to exacting professional standards. Firmly self-adhering. Can be worn with self confidence anywhere, anytime. They are so life like you will have to remind yourself that they can be removed! FREE with each order, a complete guide that tells how to naturally wear your sideburns, mustache, and van dyke.

Also, as you seek your new identity, you may also shop for other manly things such as Go Karts, Mini Bikes, and Stamps for your Collection!

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A long, hard fought weekend left my room and I with the scent of ode de rank, $30 worth of memories on my wall, and a mammoth size “Fabreeze Noticeables” plug in. I can see where the name derived from, as it is not at all hard to notice the glowing hogshead above my couch.