Saturday, November 14, 2009
ahhh, fuck this...
ok. sleep doesn't come easy here. there is no time to write anything here. i will spill these secrets when I am not... here.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
ok, then
It's the middle of the afternoon on the day of our first bout. Thankfully my London homeboy tracked down a bag of greens, so at least there will be salad for the rest of the trip, which is good.
Yesterday was riotous.
The Alternate Showcase in the afternoon featured cats from Halifax, Ottawa, London, and... one other who I can't remember (he read all his shit and it wasn't all that memorable). It was deadly. Rusty from Ottawa had his BC dwelling fam in the place to see him perform for the first time, and he did great, but St. Ephanie from HFX tore the motherfucker up. She spit five pieces, nailed all of them with flawless precision, and did so in a friendly, matronly way that made the content of her pieces all the more engaging. Amazing.
That was followed by the Aboriginal Showcase. Zaccheus Jackson opened it up and amazed me once again. It was extraordinary. I needed to compose myself after having my heart slapped around by the Mighty Z, so I missed the rest of the showcase, but the day was only getting started.
I returned to the venue to catch the slam. Well holy fuck. Competition is in the air. Cats were segregated into groups. Eyes got more protective. Conversations turned to whispers. In the first bout, the judges were averaging sevens, which is low for a slam, but they were consistent. There were some great pieces and some not-so-great pieces, but none brought that deeply felt "wow" feeling into the room. The Last Chance team took it.
The second bout is hazy in my memory. I was in and out, kicking freestyles and beatboxes outside, trying to find some of the aforementioned salad trimmings. The scores were generally higher, the wow factor still missing... except for one about digging to China from one of the London team (I cant remember the name at the moment... a write-yer-email/facebook-name sheet is being drawn up), which was grand.
I need a nap before we go, so Ill fill in the rest later... with details of our efforts, too.
Yesterday was riotous.
The Alternate Showcase in the afternoon featured cats from Halifax, Ottawa, London, and... one other who I can't remember (he read all his shit and it wasn't all that memorable). It was deadly. Rusty from Ottawa had his BC dwelling fam in the place to see him perform for the first time, and he did great, but St. Ephanie from HFX tore the motherfucker up. She spit five pieces, nailed all of them with flawless precision, and did so in a friendly, matronly way that made the content of her pieces all the more engaging. Amazing.
That was followed by the Aboriginal Showcase. Zaccheus Jackson opened it up and amazed me once again. It was extraordinary. I needed to compose myself after having my heart slapped around by the Mighty Z, so I missed the rest of the showcase, but the day was only getting started.
I returned to the venue to catch the slam. Well holy fuck. Competition is in the air. Cats were segregated into groups. Eyes got more protective. Conversations turned to whispers. In the first bout, the judges were averaging sevens, which is low for a slam, but they were consistent. There were some great pieces and some not-so-great pieces, but none brought that deeply felt "wow" feeling into the room. The Last Chance team took it.
The second bout is hazy in my memory. I was in and out, kicking freestyles and beatboxes outside, trying to find some of the aforementioned salad trimmings. The scores were generally higher, the wow factor still missing... except for one about digging to China from one of the London team (I cant remember the name at the moment... a write-yer-email/facebook-name sheet is being drawn up), which was grand.
I need a nap before we go, so Ill fill in the rest later... with details of our efforts, too.
bouts one and two
it may be too late in the night to properly post anything here. the clacking of the keys is being nicely drowned out by the twin buzzsaw stereo snoring thats happening on either side of the room.
I will, however, make a few vague notes to jog my memory for a proper post tomorrow...
- this whole notion of our team not being a 'real' team is annoying, vaguely racist, and seemingly originates from someone at home.
- once the slam started, it became apparent that NO ONE should be saying A GODDAMNED THING about us not being real. We have a legitimate shot.
- Random dude at the venue stops me and says: "Intelligent motherfuckers?" "yeah" "you guys are awesome".
- crazy drunk trying to fight the nicest bouncers in the world at the OK Cobra show at Lucky.
- there was an honest to god BAG OF PISS in the urinal at McDonalds. Pics taken by me and Bo Gus. Hilarious.
alright, time to strap on the iPod and sleep through the chainsaw massacre.
I will, however, make a few vague notes to jog my memory for a proper post tomorrow...
- this whole notion of our team not being a 'real' team is annoying, vaguely racist, and seemingly originates from someone at home.
- once the slam started, it became apparent that NO ONE should be saying A GODDAMNED THING about us not being real. We have a legitimate shot.
- Random dude at the venue stops me and says: "Intelligent motherfuckers?" "yeah" "you guys are awesome".
- crazy drunk trying to fight the nicest bouncers in the world at the OK Cobra show at Lucky.
- there was an honest to god BAG OF PISS in the urinal at McDonalds. Pics taken by me and Bo Gus. Hilarious.
alright, time to strap on the iPod and sleep through the chainsaw massacre.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
day one
Victoria is a lovely place. From the hotel, there are lots of store and restaurant filled streets branching out in all directions. This city doesn't appear to have suffered from the abandoned urban core syndrome that has plagued so many other places. There is a record store across the street where I picked up a couple of interesting slabs of wax.
Returning from lunch with Farty McGee (who, it should be noted, only let out one deathly poisonous fart on the plane the day earlier, and who, it should also be noted is being called Farty McGee solely on the basis that I had to change hotel rooms after losing a game of rock paper scissors), we started running into poets everywhere. There are some very cool cats in town this week. Someone pointed out that everyone seems like they would be an outcast in their own town, but we form some kind of community here.
The plan for the night was to meet at the venue to get registered and pick up our festival things. I was given a bag with things in it, but I jammed it into my backpack and I don't really know what's in it so 'things' is the best description I can provide.
After sitting and having the rules read to us, we mingled and drank and waited for the Last Chance Slam to start. It was an interesting display. The team that was formed is a fucking monster of a squad. Zaccheus, Truth Is, Magpie Ulysses, and some guy who's name eludes me but who raps with an affected accent.
Post show, the word went out that there was a game of poetry tag to be played and a bunch of heavyweight poets (both competitors and organizers) appeared in a room to spit pieces for eachother without any rules or considerations beyond having fun. It was grand, and rolled out long into the night with everyone in the room taking a turn.
Being here so far isn't easy. A friend in Montreal has seemingly lost his mind and I'm trying to balance myself between being helpful and not letting external drama rattle me while I'm away. I'm still feeling a bit of a sting from the lack of support from home. There wasn't much from the community before, and there's not much now. I keep looking to see if anyone has any words of encouragement, but very few do, it seems... Thanks to those who have wished their luck. I'm going to need it here.
Returning from lunch with Farty McGee (who, it should be noted, only let out one deathly poisonous fart on the plane the day earlier, and who, it should also be noted is being called Farty McGee solely on the basis that I had to change hotel rooms after losing a game of rock paper scissors), we started running into poets everywhere. There are some very cool cats in town this week. Someone pointed out that everyone seems like they would be an outcast in their own town, but we form some kind of community here.
The plan for the night was to meet at the venue to get registered and pick up our festival things. I was given a bag with things in it, but I jammed it into my backpack and I don't really know what's in it so 'things' is the best description I can provide.
After sitting and having the rules read to us, we mingled and drank and waited for the Last Chance Slam to start. It was an interesting display. The team that was formed is a fucking monster of a squad. Zaccheus, Truth Is, Magpie Ulysses, and some guy who's name eludes me but who raps with an affected accent.
Post show, the word went out that there was a game of poetry tag to be played and a bunch of heavyweight poets (both competitors and organizers) appeared in a room to spit pieces for eachother without any rules or considerations beyond having fun. It was grand, and rolled out long into the night with everyone in the room taking a turn.
Being here so far isn't easy. A friend in Montreal has seemingly lost his mind and I'm trying to balance myself between being helpful and not letting external drama rattle me while I'm away. I'm still feeling a bit of a sting from the lack of support from home. There wasn't much from the community before, and there's not much now. I keep looking to see if anyone has any words of encouragement, but very few do, it seems... Thanks to those who have wished their luck. I'm going to need it here.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
fires on the prairies
Anyone who has ever seen Planes, Trains & Automobiles can sympathize with my plight on the long haul from T.O. to Edmonton. I basically sat next to John Candy's character, except instead of a shower curtain ring salesman, he was a hunter. He was doofy and apologetic about his awkwardness... always wanting to talk, but always couching that in apologies about wanting to talk. He came prepared with motorcycle and guitar magazines. At one point, as we passed over the prairies, he said "Right now we're flying over thousand of deer. I'd like to be shooting at them."
I didn't see any deer from the plane, but I did see a lot of fires. Nothing serious, just burning brush on farms, but the wind carried the smoke from all of them into long plumes, and the sheer number of burnings, each with their towering chalky column, made for a memorable sight.
I passed the time avoiding John Candy by making faces at the baby sitting two rows up. We made faces at each other for hours. The guy sitting between us didn't seem to appreciate it, but he fell asleep and let us have our fun.
As I was getting off the plane I noticed that Halifax artist Nick Brunt had been sitting across the aisle from John candy the whole time. We said hello as we scurried off the plane, parting ways at the gate as we each bolted to make our connections.
The plane was bound for Kelowna. It was an extra stop I hadn't anticipated. Being in a plane for that long was starting to wear on me and I thought I'd lose my mind. One of my teammates sat next to me for the last leg, Kelowna to Victoria. It was nice to have someone friendly to talk to, but my god she let out farts so horrible that she may have been responsible for the extinction of the dinosaurs in a past life. Holy shit were they bad.
Upon arriving, bags were found and I rode into town with one of the organizers and her partner. They were wonderful hosts, and made me a vegan chili that, despite my apprehension, was amazingly delicious.
I slept in a bunk bed, with a dog named Caleb Paco Hernandez just outside the door. I woke up to the sound of a delightful acoustic version of the theme from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Chinese Buffet for lunch with the family, who were all very nice.
Then we went into town...
I didn't see any deer from the plane, but I did see a lot of fires. Nothing serious, just burning brush on farms, but the wind carried the smoke from all of them into long plumes, and the sheer number of burnings, each with their towering chalky column, made for a memorable sight.
I passed the time avoiding John Candy by making faces at the baby sitting two rows up. We made faces at each other for hours. The guy sitting between us didn't seem to appreciate it, but he fell asleep and let us have our fun.
As I was getting off the plane I noticed that Halifax artist Nick Brunt had been sitting across the aisle from John candy the whole time. We said hello as we scurried off the plane, parting ways at the gate as we each bolted to make our connections.
The plane was bound for Kelowna. It was an extra stop I hadn't anticipated. Being in a plane for that long was starting to wear on me and I thought I'd lose my mind. One of my teammates sat next to me for the last leg, Kelowna to Victoria. It was nice to have someone friendly to talk to, but my god she let out farts so horrible that she may have been responsible for the extinction of the dinosaurs in a past life. Holy shit were they bad.
Upon arriving, bags were found and I rode into town with one of the organizers and her partner. They were wonderful hosts, and made me a vegan chili that, despite my apprehension, was amazingly delicious.
I slept in a bunk bed, with a dog named Caleb Paco Hernandez just outside the door. I woke up to the sound of a delightful acoustic version of the theme from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Chinese Buffet for lunch with the family, who were all very nice.
Then we went into town...
a chair... in the sky!
The morning was rough. I got to the airport a little after five and had a horrible Americano at Starbucks that made me question my leaving town. (Carlitos, ftw!) As I sipped on that vile concoction, John, the counter attendant came over the PA like Adrian Cronauer from Good Morning Vietnam... "Goooooooood Morning Halifax!!! We're going to start boarding you people and get you on your way to sunny Hawa... oh, no. Sorry, you're going to Toronto. Ok, then, lets do it." His enthusiam did not impress the sleepy crowd.
The first in a long series of planes was an experience. I didn't qualify that with any positive or negative descriptors, because it was simply an experience. The sun was starting to come up over the tarmac and the sky was purple. I looked down on the lights of Halifax as we flew over, searching for home from above and already missing Nibbler and SB terribly.
The woman next to me (though the middle seat was empty) was fucking sick. She was trying to hide it, hoping in vain that no one would notice under her poorly stiffled coughs and hacks.
Before landing in Toronto, I watched as Niagra Falls passed below the plane. I looked very small.
One last note for this entry:
People I Fucking Hate as of 8am, November 9th -
People who pretend that they aren't sick
Young men in pristine cowboy hats
People who have that naturally snooty look to them
Jerks who wear evening gowns and heels on the plane, as well as the ones who have to strip off all their shit at security, like they didn't anticipate that that metal belt and those complicated boots would set off the buzzer.
More real soon.
The first in a long series of planes was an experience. I didn't qualify that with any positive or negative descriptors, because it was simply an experience. The sun was starting to come up over the tarmac and the sky was purple. I looked down on the lights of Halifax as we flew over, searching for home from above and already missing Nibbler and SB terribly.
The woman next to me (though the middle seat was empty) was fucking sick. She was trying to hide it, hoping in vain that no one would notice under her poorly stiffled coughs and hacks.
Before landing in Toronto, I watched as Niagra Falls passed below the plane. I looked very small.
One last note for this entry:
People I Fucking Hate as of 8am, November 9th -
People who pretend that they aren't sick
Young men in pristine cowboy hats
People who have that naturally snooty look to them
Jerks who wear evening gowns and heels on the plane, as well as the ones who have to strip off all their shit at security, like they didn't anticipate that that metal belt and those complicated boots would set off the buzzer.
More real soon.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
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