Thundra [year end bash] December 14th 2006

I'll be playing a few songs at the Thundra year end bash in a few weeks (with or without Le Soir), it'll be a lovely live wreck for you to witness: THURSDAY DECEMBER 14TH 2006 - Bar St-Laurent 2, 5550, boul. St-Laurent, Montreal

{adp}

Preoccupation's a high, a dangerous one at that. When it dies down (every single time) I get stuck in neutral, in a deep daze. It can become physically harmful, although the mental has been scathed long before and without any repose, there's barely any recovery (how profound). That, in terms of an unintentional lifestyle, has been going on for nearly eight years. The lingering fatigue in my eyes has merged with my corporate blood-soak-inked signature while I notice that I am nearly outside. So very close.

duplicity [02]

duplicity in superficiality | Yes, it's a trait that I can't relate to though I've tried to understand it. I can understand how, say, a poor person can grow up to be mildly superficial if he lands on any decent amount of money but that's about as far as my understanding/relation goes. I'm not perfect, I do have an opinion on someone judging by his or her looks before I even get to know what the person is really about -- that is sort of natural but I'll give em' a chance to prove me wrong... I'm talking first glance here, not long term. I've only met one person who admititly laid claim to superficiality as part of this person's own vital values and in my opinion, you can't judge anyone's morality until you've been in their shoes, except for morals that deliberatly hurt others (but we all have opinions). It's not really about admitting to the adoption of a faulty (my opinon) moral or trait; it's about knowing who you are. Whether this "value" will have favorable repercussions in the long run is another matter altogether. Nevertheless, better to be aware of your own qualities and faults (however you perceive them). Superficial and Shallow are two adjectives that litterally indicate a lack of depth (coming from the word "Surface", after all). J'espère avoir bien fait la part des choses. Last Friday, spur of the moment thing, I ended up in what I like to call a nest for all things superficial, the St-Laurent nightlife clubbing scene, where (I'm sorry to say this), you won't find much insightful discourse -- 1. but there are always exceptions & 2. that is not what this scene is about -- "dancing, getting your mind off things, comparing clothing, having a few (or many) drinks, chillin' out with some buddies, flirting and/or the occasional fucking all in the comfort of one very lively part of town", which can be appealing -- and all that isn't very different from any other part of town (which also has their own problems, evidently). The difference is that I get looked down upon by people (idiots) in clubs of that area compared to say... clubs on Mont-Royal which are supposed to be pretentious and all. I'm NOT saying that it won't happen elsewhere in the city but it'll happen to you a lot less often elsewhere than at it will at any place on... Crescent, for instance. And that's a FACT. I've never been impressed by the elite nor the wannabe elites -- but there is no way you could make "them" believe that. It's superficiality; how could you not want to be on the guestlist? I do like to be on a guest list, but I'm not a better person for being on it and I'm not idiotic to the point that it defines my existence and personality. Why should I care? 'Cause I want peace. It was especially fun on that night 'cause, well, let's just say that I really wasn't "dressed for the occasion" (nor had I shaved in the past two weeks) and I figuered it would've been pointed out to me at some point later that night -- and it did -- several several times by different women in different clubs at different times whom I had never ever met (I didn't ask for their opinion either). It was beyond their comprehension -- litterally beyond -- to the extent that they had to cut off certain (semi-drugged up, semi-drunken) discussions (I have witnesses) with other groups of people to come and RE-enquire about the MOTIVES behind my un-looks (bare in mind, I had "explained" to some of them 10 minutes prior that I just didn't "care") -- completely mystified... a bit like when Crocodile Dundee first came to New York -- some of them haven't heard the expression "judging a book by its cover", then again, I doubt they can actually read! I hate sluts but they do amuse me (not ALL sluts are superficial). I should get an award for Best "Both Sides-of-the-Coin" Blog. It's an absolutely fascinating thing, superficiality, it's in most of us... to a certain degree but in the hands of an idiot, it becomes a weapon. What I consider to be the duality of superficiality is that life's challenges, lessons and rewards are usually found beneath the surface.

>>duplicity [01]



I've looked... outside, but I've never wandered out | Forgiven, but not forgotten (I try, I do). Sentiments so painful and I know it's beyond logic, I'm not one to corner emotions nor weigh them as such (in comparison) but this isn't normal. The image for this post can be found at the following address, which I cannot directly link to or it will be apparent in the post (when it is supposed to be a safe, calm and hidden place) : www.descendo.com/husk/69a.jpg , it is what lingers above me. I never surrender to the sentiment (abandon=adopting) but it is beyond our control at times. It is nothing but a severe slump. I believe things had to change, else you might've found me dead in the cursed bedroom.

211106

5th or 6th (perhaps even... *gasp*... 7th) generation indie mimics hopping on the (soon-to-be-yesterday's-news) Mile-End scene apparently defining our city's newfound culture (as it is often mentioned by my non-canadian collegues) and I don't blame them... don't get me wrong, I dug Godspeed (and I was late on that train like I was late for Mogwai's) but I'd argue that Grim Skunk, for instance, had the same "underground" impact years before -- oh wait, they're french... nevermind (avant d'envoyer du hate-mail encore, je suis canadien-français -- sur le même sujet, c'est écrit dans quelques posts antérieurs la raison de la lacune de fraçais ici, merci!). The nice thing about the 5th/6th/7th generation local "indie" (hehe) bands (aside from an almost immediate media attention due to the agenda) is that they are fucking talented. When the trends fade (as they will, as they always have) these bands are gonna have to cook up some original material or else fade with it... and I can't wait to hear that. If you're able to swallow listening to blatant influences, albeit talented ones, then you'll go nuts when these bands'll pave their own sounds. And what's wrong with blatant influences? Anyone who wasn't into the 90s Cali-Skate-Punk scene couldn't possibly tell the difference between a Propaghandi song or an MxPx song. Yet, there was never any statements about "originality" in the punk scene (not aloud, anyway) even considering that "punk" from the 70s is an absolute 180 degrees from what it is today. You think 70s UK punks would've wanted to be sponsored by a skate company? Last I was in California, I didn't hear no punk music playing on Venice Beach. But man, it sure looks fun to play and that's what it's all about. It's the same thing for Rap music and many many other genres. So why "pick" on the Mile-End scene? 'Cause it's current events and it's history repeating itself. You think 90s "emo" fans are pleased to see their "Saddle-Creek Records" artists now available in poster form at your local Videotron right next to Nickleback? Though in the meantime, when you look past a few absurdities, you can enjoy some very good shows. Who knows, we might go through the Hochelaga Music Scene of 2015 (probably not). If I die tomorrow, will you visit The Little Italy? Whether it happens or not, you should.

ps. I've just started a new band and I "decided" that it is, in fact, indie. It's called The Eviction Notice though I'm not copying the other "Eviction Notices" 'cause this one uses the "The". I'll be part of the Little Italy scene, though I'm not at all italian... and we don't have a scene.

|milieusans|

|àdroite|

Have you been keeping track of the Canadian Blog Awards? Such a tight race for the "Best Photo/Art Blog" nominees, I have no idea how many votes husk /essem got so far (it's a pleasure just to be nominated *wink) and it's not like I can spam everyone I know to help out with the voting 'cause I do try to keep a tight lid on the blog [ ref: why blog if you don't want to be read ]. Hence, here's a picture-less post. There are some nominees on the list that I'll be supporting until the contest closes, whether I make it to the next round or not (and compared to some "real" photo-blogs, I should be gone by the next round). À droite: I had an exchange with a longtime friend of mine about "the law", clarifying my position on the law itself versus the campaign -- it's nice to see how a handful of emails can be grounds for mutual understanding. If I ever appear to be on my "high horse" again, well, it's usually due to extremists (though I do tend to root for the underdog). I've called an organization by name here recently, and I can tell by my visitor stats that they took an interest. Time to shut up / got the message.

|àgauche|

"Suddenly someone is there at the turnstyle, the girl with kaleidoscope eyes" ~ at times it feels like I know exactly what he meant by that. Notice that he uses "the"; it was entirely specific. Intricate details revealing so little. I've never been fond of surprises and in turn I waste too much time expecting the unexpected. You might call it a self-defense mechanism but those tend to actually "work". Add it the list of pointless concerns (careless optimism). I'll go out on a limb here 'cause it'll come out very tacky so be warned -- I'm "dreaming of sleep" (see?). It's all in the details. 'til then, there's a cabin in the mountains calling out to me, alone as in an escape, I'm strong enough to admit it -- I need another escape.

|toutlemondefume|

"Le Québec respire mieux!" ~ Alright! We're morons! [ le slogan de la campagne anti-tabac "Le Québec respire mieux" tappé dans Google pointe encore sur mon article ici sur husk /essem comme lien numéro 1, même chose pour "Cellulaire Seconde Main", mais on en parlera pas avant plusieurs années de celle-là ] | I'd be an angry non-smoker, not that I wouldn't appreaciate a smoke-free environment but I'd see the campaign for what it is... though if I need to elaborate, you might as well just stop reading right there and go about your day! A car exhaust distraction campaign? A food hormone distraction campaign? Yeah, amongst other things. I believe EVERY person in the city is somewhat poisoned. What can I say, as a smoker? Allow me to be slightly biased here... Do I miss smoking in bars? Well -- I miss smoking in "watering holes"... there's a difference. Is it ok to say that? And now that I do visit these places again -- I end up smoking less than I used to. That's great! My clothes smell better. Another plus. But hold on here, where does this big supremacist ideal come from? Where does this sentiment come from? Why is this SO much of a "victory"? Was I asleep when we achieved world peace? I could've sworn I saw a homeless person asleep in an alley way last night, freezing his ass off. Must've been an illusion 'cause (here I go again) "Le Québec respire mieux!". Problem(s) solved! I'm aware that it's "one small step" but who really acts that way? A punch to the face just won't wipe that grin off of your face, I know, I've tried (and failed)! So when I signed up to be a "tobacco mole", I was ultimately rejected (is this true?). A lot of you were concerned about all the money spent in Health Care due to the diseases caused by the effects of smoking, but that's a myth you see, 'cause they hired moles and they printed endless (unrecycled) printed promotions and tv spots for the law etc. (because the law causes many of us to be ERECT, I swear that is a FACT) -- so fear not, we're rich as fuck. This post is proof of the (powerful) distraction (still) at work / the guy's still homeless / Loto-Québec is laughing their asses off / Fellatio + a cigarette is underrated / "Non-Smokers die everyday!" ~ Bill Hicks / Protesting "publicity" is neo-emo ®Vans / God is the invisible man in the sky ~ George Carlin / Please don't ban caffeine! I need it to cope with all of you. Much love xx

|enveloppppe|

Tossing and turning, 'til 5am -- woke up a few hours later for a meeting. I'm usually more... dynamic. It's comprehensible isn't it? A quick smoke/coffee breakfast; the breakfast of pseudo-self-employed-champions. Dans le peu de rêve que j'ai pu avoir, we smiled at a distance and connected, lifting impossible weights off of our shoulders to the dismay of the crowd like we used to, it was then that I forced myself to wake after hours of forcing myself to sleep. You know this story all too well. One more needless distraction that'll be hidden in the back of my head for the remainder of the day, non merci. The list, the list, the list S****, the list!\

Formes Noires by Alec5

I wanted to plug these earlier but I got distracted, mostly by being evicted, amongst other things (better late than never): I was at the Plajia/Robopop show a few weeks back at the Va-et-Vient and on the walls were a SPLENDID series of paintings that caught my attention (that rarely happens, I usually hate everything). 20 lavish paintings under the name Formes Noires by a local artist called Alec [ref: www.alec5.com]. You can see some of em' on his site (along with his other works) but you should drop by and check out the series in person at: Le Va-Et-Vient bistro culturel, 3706 Notre-Dame Ouest, St-Henri Montreal. The gallery ends december 3rd, it's well worth the detour (and your money).

gardendivide

My first day back in the city, the situation hits a bit more now that I am "home" but we were warned, to some degree... Shown on this blog, in glimpses, the appartment / my home for the past 8 years. First, the backyard (*******'s garden) gave way to a bland condo building (ref: here) and now the long gone family memories will fade out of homes turned into offices. I'd label it all blasphemous, were I religious, but I can state that this financial move, though legal, is an afront to generations of family history. I'm bitter, obviously. Would you burn it down? There's sufficient time left to grieve, later when we'll be less likely to be at someone else's mercy (now that is something to look forward to) though there's very little time to consider our options.

ps. I'd like to thank Vila H. (who's blogging puts my measly efforts to shame) and Mlle Sophie (who would also outdo me, had she a blog of her own) for nominating husk/essem in this year's Canadian Blog Awards under "Best Photo/Art Blog" -- had I known about this earlier, I would've sent in some nominations of my own (fuck) -- merci beaucoup!

061106

The eviction notice came through the mail, in a legal fashion that I can't argue with. I have to go pick it up once I've returned to Montreal. Nothing will ever be the same.

gardennorthlies

It's the "v" in November that makes it sound so sexual, I am so deep in self-exploration (absolute yet amusing delusions) that I'm turned on by "months" now (not really, but you know what I mean). Notice the re-occuring themes; the left and right mostly. Bit by bit this becomes much less private, why "blog" if you have no intention of being read? Who says this is my sole blog? I remember in the (public) early days of the Internet (which was a nice time, although now, finding rareties has lost its appeal but that's a rant for another day) I had stumbled on the (gif-less, rare at the time) online journal of a fascinating anonymous young woman from the UK. She made daily posts about personal discoveries and examinations; things that she would test on her senses like sensory deprivation and then not-so-profound experiments, like redecorating... though still experiments. You could read back to earlier archives and keep track of her studies or her progress, if you will, it had a logical chronology to it especially with vague hints of events in her personal life. It was, in a way, private AND public at the same time. It was new and exciting at the time to have this window on someone's life but not in a cheap voyeuristic manner... I figured out later that she was keeping herself in check by publishing these posts online and that it made for a true testimony of fragile mental health -- when dug into and dissected so profoundly. The pages were accompanied by photos she took, they might not've seemed special or anything but clearly it meant something to her and that put much of it into context (or it added to it). It went on for roughly three or four years (and it was not popular, mind you). Near the end you could tell she was struggling as much of her writtings became more and more contradictory but she was aware of it, and she did her best to juggle it. She found and lost love during the course of the journal and it wasn't long after the loss that the journal ended, as many pages frequently disapear on the web, this was a loss for me as well. She would carefully interact with the little audiance she had, exchanging opinions and observations... but that was it. This was vital to her, everything had to be on topic... she felt she was on to something and I'll never get to know if she ever got there, who she was, where she is now... I tell you, THIS was blogging at its best. I have nothing against the "weekly anecdotes" (ie: here's a FLICKR ALBUM OF ME AND BLAH SHOPPING) ... (ok so maybe I do have a little something against that, fuck it) but this had heart and soul in every word. I miss it and I miss her. It's something that I try to pull off here (badly) and I dedicate it to you, ****, wherever you are.