koo-koo-k’choo!

As has been a family tradition, i slept in my childhood room on christmas eve, after the requisite visit to church. If there has ever been a time where one ‘goes through the motions’ it is the christmas holidays. Driving to my parents place from the north shore yesterday i had a strong urge to head in a totally different direction or at the very least redirect myself toward my Chinatown townhouse. I didn’t break with tradition, I carried on, ate copious amounts of cheese and waddled my way to church. Having been an altar boy (white robes – gold cross) for many years, i don’t know why, this year i resisted, even resented spending, less than an hour sitting through a service. Actually, I think i do know why, i didn’t connect on any level to what being said, just feeling it was an empty exercise.   One bright point was a flutist who rocked the hymns with considerable passion. I felt a bit fraud, choosing not to recite prayers, just sitting inside own head, self-centered with a pinch of evil. Not having a family of my own means that it’s difficult to create new traditions, so i’m stuck in the same christmas treadmill i have been running since ….. forever (my forever rather). Mental note….. leave the country next year … though on a side note, i read a walrus article lost leader” about Michael Ignatieff – besides intrigued that two of the three liberal party operators who pulled him in as their champion were top lawyers with Faskens (is the firm a bastion of liberalism or the Liberal party) … and though intelligent i have always felt there was something disingenuous and arrogant about the way he communicates. One that gets in the sense that he’s in politics out of lack of something else to do – perhaps becoming prime minister appealed to his egoism …. but does he actually have any ideas?
perhaps i’m a little like ignatieff, a much less successful and intelligent version perhaps, but just as uninspired and unoriginal

oh well time for tea and a christmas present (s)

Shelley Duvall Totally Looks Like Lolrus

» Think you can do better? Make your own!

Pictures by: jasonnemieke Look-alike by: miekebl via Totally Looks Like Builder

Raise your hand if you can do that!

Smooth as Sateen

Getting a Walrus into a satin jumpsuit really is worth listening to Kenny G!

Well, almost. Myself, I just pop a pair of bionic frequency alterers in my ears whenever Mimsy takes the front of the stage. These make all Kenny G music sound like Motown, so I can stare at a walrus in a satin pantsuit and get my groove on. Oh what a wonderful world.

I recently picked up a copy of The Walrus in the Ottawa Airport. Mitch Miyagawa has a great article on Canada’s obsession with official apologies. He notes that such apologies are typically framed as acts of remembrance and a way of acknowledging those who have been affected by historical injustices, such as the internment of Japanese Canadians during WWII, the Chinese head tax, or the tragedy of the residential school system.

Miyagawa suggests, however, that official apologies are “more about forgetting and less about remembering.” They are a way of saying, “Yes, we once did bad things, but we have now moved beyond that. We are more just and humane than we used to be, and this apology is evidence of that.”

In Miyagawa’s words, “Rather than bringing the past to life, [official apologies] break our link with history, separating us from who we were and promoting the notion of our moral advancement. They also whitewash the ways in which Canadians still benefit from that past, stripping the apologies of remorse.” 

It’s a powerful article, one that not only traces the history of official apologies in Canada, but also illustrates the disconnect between our history and rhetoric of multiculturalism, and the unfortunate reality of discrimination and prejudice that minorities continue to face, in spite of our apologies and apparent good intentions.

I am currently in negotiations with this pinniped prodigy to play backup for Kooky Winters at the Institute Nightery. We are close to striking a deal, he has agreed to wear a satin jumpsuit if I allow him to play one Kenny G solo a night. I think the only thing that would make me willing to listen to Kenny G is a walrus in a satin jumpsuit.

lawnrus is one of the eldest of the flarnimals introduced thus far… he has had a tough life… he smoked for many years and was diagnosed with throat cancer, which led to him having to undergo a tracheostomy procedure. He now breathes through the front portion of the lawnmower portion of his body. although he looks pretty melancholy, he is actually always in good spirits, looking at the bright side of the flarniverse. he is considered a caring grandfather type amongst his fellow flarnimals. he lacks a biological family, but is loved by all around him, which keeps him more than satisfied and occupied.

likes: chess, green tea, wheat grass (for his health of course), drawers and chests, the bristles in a brand new paintbrush, and ketchup.
dislikes: cherries, ironic trends, weeds, trains and gum.

Syfy has a way of turning childhood fantasy into dystopia.

In 2007, Nick Willing brought us a new take on The Wizard of Oz with Tin Man, and last weekend returned for a shot at Lewis Carroll’s Wonderland with the original miniseries Alice—just in time to precede Tim Burton’s 2010 Alice in Wonderland. Warning: this is not your (great) grandmother’s “Through the Looking-Glass.”

For one thing, the heroine’s not blonde.  In fact, Caterina Scorsone bears a striking resemblance to Tin Man’s “DG,” Zooey Deschanel—but that’s another story altogether (though for the record, and while this may upset her legions of indie movie fans, I thought Scorsone was considerably better).

Less trivially, Alice brings the classic story into a strikingly modern—if still fantastic (in this case synonymous with “bizarre”)—world.  For a flavor of the updates, consider the Queen’s pink flamingoes: once croquet mallets, the exotic birds now function as motorized hovercraft with a mean carbon footprint, mount of choice of cyborg assassin Mad March.  And that’s the least of it.  Halfway through the first installment, Hatter articulates what most viewers are probably already thinking:

“Does this look a kid’s story to you?”

Wonderland’s changed a lot since the “Alice of Legend” came through the looking-glass (today, it’s more like Stargate Looking-Glass).

Take Hatter—though he still runs a tea shop, in 21^st-century Wonderland “tea” is a watered-down euphemism for the drained-and-distilled emotions of captives from Alice’s world.  And outside Hatter’s cozy backroom office, the wildly popular teas—which, we learn, serve as the Queen’s opiate of the masses (how very Marxist of her)—are sold at a frenetic pace in New York Stock Exchange fashion.  Bliss is up 3 points today.

The character adaptations are subtle and often unique.  Rather than a slightly loopy character sipping tea with his pinky raised, Hatter’s a con man with a Cockney accent.  “You know why they call me the Hatter?” he asks Alice, “Because I’m always there when they pass the hat.  Philanthropy.”  Of course.

And the White Rabbit, while headed by a stately-looking man with long gray pigtails, is more correctly an organization—run by the Suits, J. Edgar Hoover-looking bureaucrats with a mission to lure or kidnap unlucky “oysters” (people from our world) into Wonderland to be “drained.”  Just a tad more sinister than painting white roses red.

One of my favorite scenes early in the miniseries is the explanation of the draining process: labcoat-wearing, clip-board toting Carpenter says to his colleague, Walrus, very matter-of-fact even in rhyme:

“The time has come, Walrus old friend, to test our many stills—the oohs, the ahhs, the healing drops, the passions and the thrills.  And see how joy and awe and lust can all be turned to pills.”

It’s my favorite example of Syfy’s ability to make suspension of disbelief so believable.  The instant gratification premise of the Queen’s teas strikes a little too close to home for comfort.  And along with the Orwellian aspects of a security state, brainwashed public, and secret resistance, there’s definitely some Aldous Huxley mixed into the brew as well.

At least once an episode (literally—I counted), Alice gasps, “What is this place?”  But her expression registers more horror than wonderment.

Oh brave new world, that has such people in it.

As attentive high school English students will know, Huxley’s Brave New World looks at a future society rather different than Orwell’s dark totalitarian visions—thanks to the drug soma, the world is populated by shiny happy people on constant highs; the euphoric experience is specifically described as providing a substitute for, and ultimately a replacement of, religion.  Compare that to the teas—Bliss, Excitement, Contentment, Pure Innocence, and more—used to pacify the people of Wonderland.

It makes the modern quest for constant, instantaneous amusement look a little less light-hearted.

Of course, a history student like me couldn’t help but be thrilled by the resistance’s solution to the Queen’s “quick fixes”—the preservation of a great library with 5,000 years’ worth of Wonderland history: Wonderland’s resistance had more luck than the librarians of Alexandria, apparently.  The hideout of refugees, it illustrates the role of information dissemination (three cheers for the Internet) in combating tyranny: “Wisdom’s her biggest threat,” Hatter says of the Queen.

The Queen.  More frightening than her classic counterpart, with a disquietingly tranquil demeanor and only the rarest tantrum, Kathy Bates as the Queen of Hearts is superb.  Her character, however, is, as Syfy advertised, definitely not playing with a full deck.  The legal term is non compos mentis.  When she orders the beheading of a hapless Suit, for example (some things never change), her more kindly husband covertly countermands the sentence: “Bring him back,” he says with a sigh, “Tomorrow she’ll have forgotten she killed him.”

Yet in spite of—or perhaps it’s because of—her obvious instability (insert toppling-house-of-cards pun here), the Queen commands the obedience of even the most unwilling subjects.  Another major theme here, and one that’s as visible in real-world newspapers and political speeches, is pragmatism.

The philosophical view that it’s the expediency of the moment that matters most (again—the idea of instant gratification), pragmatism rears its ugly head in even the most sympathetic of characters.

The White Knight, an endearing Don Quixote-like old man always ready to break into a flight of poetic monologizing, confesses to Alice that his knightly persona is just that, a posture.  When the rest of ye knights of olde were wiped out by the Queen and her Suits, Sir Charles [something something] Malfoy the Third (aka, Charlie), ran and hid.

“When I came out, everyone was dead,” he laments, uncharacteristically succinct.  He abandoned his principles to survive—until Alice (“Just Plain Alice,” he calls her, as distinguished from “Alice of Legend”) arrived, and he made her protection, however bungled his efforts, a matter of regaining lost honor.

Hatter, too, reveals a similar history: “I’ve spent my life playing both sides of the card; it was the only way to survive.  I made the Hearts think I was working for them while I fed their enemies—those days are over.”

Even unsympathetic characters secretly long for a coup as well— like Duchess, “the Queen’s creature, who also longs for her son.  Rescuing him from a head-offing by order of his mother and questioned why she’d suddenly come to his aid, Duchess echoes the line repeated throughout: “I did what I had to to survive!”

This son of the Queen, Jack Heart (cue groan), also happens to be an undercover agent working with the resistance—it’s noble enough, but to do it, he has to lie to, manipulate, and pretend to fall in love with Alice, who in matters of the heart (cue another groan) is about as innocent as her blonde-haired, wide-eyed predecessor.  Good thing this version of Carroll’s story includes a love quadrangle to keep her occupied.

As relevant as some of the themes of the miniseries are to the world on our side of the looking-glass, Syfy does include some things purely as grace notes for those who remember the originals.

No review of an Alice in Wonderland remake could be complete without mentioning the Caterpillar, who—though reinvented as the enigmatic leader of the Wonderland resistance movement—still doesn’t leave home without his traditional, potent mushrooms.  Maybe traditional isn’t the right word.  Captured by the Suits, Caterpillar’s mushroom functions less like a hallucinogen and more like a cyanide capsule.  There’s a revolutionary for you.

Of course, some of these grace notes fall flat: when the Jabberwock raced out of the forest to terrify Alice and Hatter, I broke into uncontrollable laughter (and I’m sure I’m not the only one).  Now I’m the first to support Syfy’s sad special effects—anyone else love that the backdrop for the Dune miniseries was practically a spray-painted bedsheet?—but this chimerical abortion of CGI was so astonishingly bad that horror devolved into hilarity.  A bug-eyed cross between a T-Rex and the Loch Ness monster (what happened to Carroll’s description of “eyes of flame”? too Balrog?), it’s unimaginable that anyone would need a vorpal sword to vanquish that beast.  For karate kid Alice (did I mention she’s a black belt?), it should’ve been a walk in the park.  Let’s chalk it up to shock, or jet lag—a week in Wonderland, after all, is something like an hour in our world.

Unfortunately, Mr. Tumnus was not available for comment.

Wally the walrus was born into the Stinky Feet Babies Maternity Ward last night. I was thinking about the future of the walrus with the ice melting and felt sad for them. Maybe Wally will continue the walrus race.

Wally can be adopted here:

http://www.alaskafilmstudios.com/wabawa.html

Good evening, all! Got some great reviews and helpful advice from my friends in the Oklahoma City Writer’s Block (website/Facebook coming soon!). If you are an author in the Oklahoma City area that would like to participate in a no-holds-barred critique session with three awesome writers and me …just let me know! We currently have four seats open. Our only prerequisite is that you join…or at least consider joining SCBWI.

“If You Waltz With a Walrus” is my most polished rhyming PB manuscript, and ever-uber-awesome and totally rocking illustrator and artist extraordinaire Sir Jerry Bennett (how’s that for a title?!) did these really cool sketches for me at our critique session.

If you are an aspiring author, I cannot stress how important it is to get involved with a critique group (or more than one). This is where you get a chance to hear your work read out loud, and get a chance to hear helpful and thoughtful criticism from other writers who want to see you succeed as much as you want to see you succeed.

I am completely honored to get to work with the people I do in the two critique groups I am currently a part of.  They have helped my writing along more than I ever could have on my own.

Alright, on to the next order of business: one of the funniest local commercials you’ll ever witness. And this place is right in my own backyard! Metaphorically, of course.

Thanks to Rhett and Link for bringing this gem to my attention. PPJ and I immediately scoped out the joint when R&L aired this video on their LiveKast(9/17/2009).

Here are a few mementos from our trip:

That’s all for this time!

]]> http://sesquiotic.wordpress.com/2009/12/08/walrus/ Tue, 08 Dec 2009 05:26:34 +0000 sesquiotic http://sesquiotic.wordpress.com/2009/12/08/walrus/

“The time has come,” the Walrus said, “to talk of many things: of shoes – and ships – and sealing-wax – of cabbages – and kings – and why the sea is boiling hot – and whether pigs have wings.” Was he talking to clams? No, to a semolina pilchard climbing up the Eiffel Tower, who was an elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna. Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe.

That’s very well and all, but who is the Walrus? Well, I am he as you are me as you are he and we are all together. I am the eggman, they are the eggmen – I am the walrus! Goo goo goo joob! And here’s another clue for you all: the walrus was Paul! But no, wait, The Walrus is a Canadian intelligent general interest magazine with nothing in particular to do with walruses aside from their both having a certain Canadian something about them, at least in Canadian eyes. To others, a walrus might look more like an old British colonel with a bushy moustache. And yet, as everyone knows, Wally Walrus was a nemesis of Woody Woodpecker, and the Walrus was a minor villain in Spiderman comics.

Now, how is it that walruses come to have such incoherent, surrealistic associations? And aren’t they walri? This is all less clear than a message in Morse code.

Well, to the second question, no, they’re not, it’s not Latin, it’s from Dutch possibly from Scandinavian and comes from words meaning “horse-whale” transposed to “whale-horse” or perhaps “shore giant” but probably not. And as to the first, blame Tweedledee and Tweedledum, who recite the poem in Through the Looking-Glass, but don’t blame them, because they were written by Lewis Carroll, so blame him, except he was really Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, whose biographical details would be a considerable digression, so I won’t leave you sitting on a cornflake waiting for the van to come.

But also blame John Lennon, because he wrote three false starts on songs that needed a place to be stuck and he took some acid trips and heard that a teacher at his old school was analyzing Beatles lyrics, and so from all of this he made a song that wraps up the A side of Magical Mystery Tour. The second-most-common collocation of walrus, after walrus moustache, is I am the walrus. And the walrus was John in Magical Mystery Tour but then they said it was Paul in the white album song “Glass Onion.” And after two University of Michigan students invented a hoax about Paul McCartney being dead, it became an “everyone knows” thing that the walrus is a symbol of death in some cultures. Which cultures? Well, someone said that the walrus was a harbinger of death in certain Scandinavian countries. Uh-huh, but not in the uncertain ones? Well, we’re not sure. Maybe we should ask Barbara Wallraff. She might know.

The word walrus has a round, fat, woofy or throaty sound to it, enhanced by our English “dark l,” which raises the tongue at the back when the /l/ is in the end of a syllable. It’s not altogether out of line with the grunting sounds walruses make. The w gives a certain visual echo of the moustache as well. We have no idea, of course, whether any of this helped walrus to replace the previous word used in English for the beast, morse (which was borrowed from Slavic languages and is unrelated to the family name Morse). But we may have a clue as to the associated incoherence. The morse being a symbol of death, we turn to the requiem mass and find that mors stupebit. So we may immerse in a morass of more stupid bits without remorse.

Carroll’s walrus eats bivalves in copious quantity. However, in real life, walruses eat bivalves in copious quantity. They do not share them with carpenters. But without walruses, youths and those adults who have not forsaken youthful humour would be bereft of something to do with pairs of straws or breadsticks. You can’t do it with jujubes; they just get gooey. But if you really want a tusk, why don’t you ask him if he’s going to stay? Why don’t you ask him if he’s going away? But answer came there none – and this was scarcely odd, because they’d eaten every one.

1. A walrus ate my laptop.

2. I have been frenziedly editing my second book, the aptly titled ‘About Time‘ (unlike the excuse above, this one happens to be true). Editing is a 5-stage process: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. This time around, it took only five weeks to reach Acceptance – which either means: a/ I’m getting better; or b/ my wonderful, long-suffering editor has finally attained Stage 5.

3. My parents arrived on an extended holiday from Ireland. I tell you, looking after them is a Full Time Job: the sleepless nights, the endless questions, the demands, the tidying up after them, the theft of my Auckland map and the scribbling on it. And you have to keep an eye on them all the time, or they get into everything.I never knew childhood would be so HARD.

4. For the last month, I’ve felt like I’ve been run over by a truck and dragged along behind it, then dipped in lightly whisked eggs and rolled down a hill strewn with glass before shooting off the top of a sheer cliff and plunging into a raging sea, then forced to sit and listen to Tom Cruise for four hours. (Note: this is largely speculative, since I’ve never met Tom Cruise so am not entirely sure what it’s like having to listen to him for four hours. However, I did watch Vanilla Sky i.e. I have a fair idea).

Some of the exhaustion is no doubt due to editing, parent-sitting and waging war on walruses. However, a large part is due to reasons I am not at liberty to divulge. I’m sorry; I hate being so coy. Wait, wait. I’ve just thought about that, and it turns out I don’t hate being coy at all. Au contraire, I LOVE being coy and regrettably I don’t have opportunity to exercise half enough despite having a unique talent for it.

The problem is that I hate other people being coy – especially on the Internet. While not in the same sort of league as avarice or sloth, it’s still an unattractive quality. You know like when you read someone’s blog, and they’re all: “So, I know something you don’t and – hey, guess what? I’m not going to tell you,” and you’re all, “Well, yanno, why bother saying anything at all? Why not just SHUT UP about it, you LOSER? I mean, who do you think GIVES A FRYING DUCK? I’LL TELL YOU WHO: NOBODY! YEAH, THAT’S RIGHT! AND I’LL TELL YOU SOMETHING ELSE – BECAUSE – UNLIKE SOME – I FOR ONE AM A DECENT, STRAIGHTFORWARD, CANDID TYPE OF PERSON: THAT’S THE LAST TIME I READ THIS CRAPFEST OF A BLOG.”

“COCK.”

Assuming that’s not just me, I truly hope you forgive me. Would it help if I called it ‘dramatic tension’?

No?

I will say: I’m not pregnant, no, nor suffering from some deadly or even medically recognised disease. Oh, here’s more: I haven’t been battling withdrawal symptoms from kicking my lifelong addiction to coffee – although you’d be getting closer.

Sorry, the coy crept in again there.

Seeking to expand the scope of this blog (at the request of its creator), I present a review of the video game “The Beatles: Rock Band.”  For those unfamiliar, Rock Band is an extension of the Guitar Hero game, in that you try and play along with songs using a guitar, bass, drums and vocals.  There are varying degrees of difficulty for each song, both overall and with each individual component (for example, you can set the drums to “easy” on an overall “difficult” song, etc).

The Beatles version of Rock Band contains a wide variety of tracks to choose from, spanning their short but prolific career.  It has early stuff like “I Saw Her Standing There,” “Twist and Shout,” and “I Wanna Be Your Man.”  It has well-known songs like “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” “Yellow Submarine,” and “Ticket to Ride,” but also delves into the deeper album cuts like “I Me Mine,” “Within You Without You,” and “I Want You (She’s So Heavy).”  It’s a well-rounded selection of tunes of varying degrees of difficulty to play, from the relative ease of “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” to the very tough “I Am the Walrus.”  Of course some people will be disappointed that their own personal favorite Beatles song isn’t on here, but there’s no way they could include their whole catalog.  I’m sure some sort of expansion pack with more songs will eventually be made available, or certainly you will be able to download (for a fee) other songs.

A cool aspect of the game is the numerous computer-generated background videos that accompany each song.  Some are depictions of the Fab Four recording in a studio, some feature their appearance at Shea Stadium in 1965, and some are imaginary representations based on the atmosphere of the song; “Here Comes the Sun,” for example, shows the band playing in a flowery meadow in the sunshine, and for “I Am the Walrus,” we see the group in their trippy animal mascot costumes from the “Magical Mystery Tour” film.

I enjoyed playing this game, partly because of the song selection and partly because of seeing John, Paul, George and Ringo represented digitally, playing their tunes.  It definitely takes practice to get good at the instruments, which is why I enjoyed the vocals better than anything else, but that’s just me.  Essentially, Rock Band is karaoke on steroids…in a fun way.

The Beatles: Rock Band gets 4 out of 5 stars.

              I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving and Survived the Black friday Shopping Frenzy! After Thanksgiving. Time seems to move at breakneck speed.  And it doesn’t seem to slow down until after January.

Mojo Monday 114 Cold & Cuddly Penguin

Mojo Monday 114 & Christmas Punch Snowman

Mojo Monday 114 With Cold & Cuddly

I used two Stampin’ Up! stamp sets, Christmas Punch and Cold & Cuddly.  both of them are really fun sets.

Thanks so much for stopping by and taking a look!

Don’t forget Stampin’ Up! Is having a huge sale . If you don’t already have a demonstrator . You can browse through all the the great deals on my on line website 

Click Here and then click on shop now .

Hmmm, I should’ve given this guy more whiskers around the mouth and tusks …

Walnocerous

John Levitan tinha 14 anos quando pegou num gravador, subiu ao quarto de hotel de John Lennon e desafiou o músico para uma conversa. Em 2007, Josh Raskin juntou ao registo inédito uma animação e o resultado foi este:

]]> http://tanuke.wordpress.com/2009/11/17/big-party-by-luckery-on-deviantart/ Tue, 17 Nov 2009 08:00:26 +0000 D.Dragon http://tanuke.wordpress.com/2009/11/17/big-party-by-luckery-on-deviantart/

Apparently Metamorpher had a party, but didn’t invite me

Two little monkeys, jumping on the bed,
One fell off and bumped his head.
We took him to the doctor and the doctor said:
That’s what you get for jumping on the bed!

Since we were children we have made a connection with animals.
~Lion King, Jungle Book, Tom and Jerry, Bugs Bunny, and the list goes on and on and on.

The Animal Kingdom is such a fascination with unique facts and stories that will mesmorize us for the rest of our lives.

We have great videos like this that make us laugh.

And see funny animal pictures like this that make us smile.

Build a bear alone, in the third quarter, made over a 100 million in profit. We are a country that LOVES animals. A dog is a man’s best friend. A cat is man’s foots best friend. (Sorry that might be a bit slighted) I used to have cats growing up so I can say that!

In a nut shell, my advice for the day is go visit the zoo!

Min vän Viktor visade mig det här klippet och tipsade mig om en låt att lyssna och låtsas att han spelade. Men det minns jag inte vilken det var. Så ni får klara er med originalklippets musik.

“This is Earth. Isn’t it hot?” -Paris Hilton

10 of the Most Awkward Things You Could Say to a Person Who You Know You Won’t Ever See Again

So I decided it might be fun to open up the subject of my next blog to the cyber world and see what they come up with. Plenty of my friends responded and since I don’t feel like writing about dogs wearing snuggies or male appendages I chose this topic. My assignment was to come up with ten of the most awkward ways to end a conversation with someone who you know you’ll never see again. Here are my responses and directions as to how to deliver said responses.

*talkaboutmyfeelings.wordpress.com does not support or condone the use of any of the following phrases in public or in private. If you get your ass beaten for saying one of these expressions, that’s your fault.*

(in no particular order)

1. “Tell your mom I said hi!”

Talking about people’s moms is weird enough, but for a total stranger to ask for you to tell your mom that they said hi? That is ridiculous. I think this one is funny because think of the hours of sleep your victim would lose at night because of the constant wondering about how you knew your mom, if you knew your mom, and why you did know your mom if you weren’t lying. This response should be said with as much

awkwardfamilyphotos.com

seriousness as you can muster. Be careful though, because you definitely want to avoid a follow up conversation. However, you might want to be ready with some sort of backup just in case.

2. “I’ll see you at your place!”

I can’t say that I’ve tried this before, but I think it would be absolutely hilarious if there was an opportunity to have a hidden camera watch your victim’s reaction 5-10 seconds after you said it. This is such a casual phrase that the victim might initially brush it off as a sort of mistake. Then they would (hopefully) realize that a relative stranger just told them they were going to their house. The look of confusion and utter disbelief would be perfect. Once again, book it after saying this one.

3. “I wish you loved me half as much as you love that fat walrus!”

This response must be yelled and must involve some form of tears. It’s also imperative that there be a large group of people around. Good luck keeping a straight face while yelling this in a crowd, but if you can pull this off the look of utter bewilderment should be something for the history books.

4. “you wanna touch it?”

I know from experience that this is one of the most awkward questions in the English language. I have a certain blonde headed friend who uses this phrase as his calling card of awkward situations. In order to really achieve the beauty of this question, one must say it just loud enough to be heard. The goal is not to be clearly understood, but rather just barely understood. The victim should walk away disappointed, confused, and emotionally violated.

5. “You’re the one!”

Once again, I have experience with this one. This exclamation should be utilized in the most hopeful voice that you can muster. You have to sound like you really believe the person is the one for you, otherwise this is just stupid. Other special affects for this one are puppy dog eyes and an awkward half smile. This might just be the most potent of the 10. Also, if you happen to attend a Christian university, this phrase works like magic. Ask me how I know.

6. “I miss you.”

Now I can’t claim credit for thinking of numbers 5 or 6 because a friend of mine by the name of Ana Dennis pioneered the expressions. This one must de done in a similar fashion to number 5. The key to this statement is that you have to make sure you say it before the person ever leaves your immediate touching distance. If they get too far away, it starts to make too much sense. Also, you might want to consider blurting it out like a secret you couldn’t wait to tell. I think that’d work pretty well.

7. “oh, you’re leaving? I thought we were going to…..”

As you might  have guessed, you have to use this one very carefully. Say it all at once and it’s obviously a joke, say it too slow and the person might doubt your mental capacity. This statement/question requires a perfect blend of emotional concern, medium speed delivery, and a lingering last word. The last word should be a thing of beauty that hangs from the lips of the speaker long enough for the victim to feel the need to pluck it off. If they give you an answer such as, “play golf?” then you must look truly disappointed and shake your head in a “no” fashion. Then proceed to walk away slowly like a puppy with his tail between his legs. The goal of this is to get the victim to think something ridiculous.

8. “I’m an elf.”

(No explanation necessary.)

9. “Tuesday is going to be really bad for you.”

I don’t know how to say this, I’m not even sure if it’ll work but it’s worth a shot. I also don’t know if it would be more affective or less affective when said on a Tuesday. Food for thought.

10. “do you want to go to a Creed concert with me?!?!”

This isn’t so much an awkward thing as it is a test of humanity. If they say no, they’re a robot… or satan.
Either way, run away from a person who turns down Creed tickets from a total stranger. If they start to walk away from you though, the only natural thing to do would be to pull the folding microphone stand from your bag and release the long golden locks you hide beneath your wig. Then proceed to start singing “higher” in a beautifully golden impression of that god of rock we call Scott Stapp. *Disclaimer: men and women alike will flock to you so have a getaway plan*

So there they are, now I want to know if you have any ideas. Please tell me what your ides and are explain how they work. Also tell me if I got anything wrong especially if you’re a girl.

In his article, Turning the Page, in the Walrus magazine, former Whistler Writers’ Group guest author Noah Richler, pins the publishing industry to the dartboard and begins throwing some very well-aimed projectiles at it.

For example, why are Canada’s automakers holding tight to archaic technology, but Canada’s publishers so willing to throw out the baby with the bathwater and jump into bed with e-publishing before they’ve even had an STD test?

And why do publishers equate their product with toilet paper – you run out, you buy some more.  Toilet paper that sells better if the publisher has paid for a big bin full of titles located in prime floorspace…

What Richler says that’s most interesting and insightful is that most books sell, because people want to be talking about what everyone is talking about.  One interpretation – we’re all lemmings. Or, alternatively, a book needs to be part of common conversations to be a success.  So what are you talking about? And is anybody listening?