2011 - The Year of the Grind

So, when I first thought about this list (and it's actually been quite a while since I've, you know, codified things like this), I couldn't think of much for my list that wasn't released by Grindcore Karaoke (and 3 of my top albums came from that label - and there were very nearly several more). But, when I dug more deeply, researched more thoroughly, I realised: well, sir: 2011 was a grand year for new music.

And what a year for grind, huh?! The aforementioned label, shit-tons (yup) of solid releases, news of a (I don't know quite the word for it, but let's go with: Memorial): Nasum Memorial Tour and probably a bunch of other cool shit.

Without further ado! My list of 13 releases 'cause why not? I actually ordered them this year, too!
(a caveat first: as all who know me know, I am, typically, notoriously bad at saying anything when I say things about music, but here goes)

1. Cloud Rat - s/t

Blistering, angry, vivid, intelligent, really well-executed grinding . Very effective and much more affective than pretty much all grind-related shit I've ever heard. It's like if you took some roiling mass of chaos and wrapped it tightly in palletwrap; the chaos seethes and surges and spits and snarls but it can't break free (palletwrap is a brilliant control mechanism, ya see).
Favourite tune: "Dwell"

2. Human Touch - s/t

As soon as I heard the yelling intro to demo opener "Youth Prison," I knew I'd found a winner. And gang shout choruses! From there things maintain the intensity in this wickedly tuneful, angry, engaged, engaging hardcore. And just wait for the if-you-don't-feel-like-shouting-along-with-it-check-your-PULSE! awesome title track. Full o' anthemic, fist-pumping catharsis.
Favourite tune: "Human Touch"

3. Autopsy - Macabre Eternal

Generally, my response to death metal is "meh," but I have this gaping, festering hole of a soft-spot for Autopsy and their grimy, filthy, slimy vomitus. It's the atmosphere and the feel and the Chris Reifert!
Favourite tune: "Always about to Die"

4. Lock Up - Necropolis Transparent

It's a total ripper. Just like you'd expect from Lock Up.
Favourite tune: "Unseen Enemy"

5. Rotten Sound - Cursed

Another throat-ripping grinder. Seriously good year for this shit. And such a thick sound.
Favourite tune: "Ritual"

6. Fen - Epoch

One of those post-black metal bands... It's so spacious, expansive, expressive.
Favourite tune: "A Waning Solace"

7. Punch - Nothing Lasts

Wicked hardcore again. Angry, engaging. And full of outstanding breakdowns. Holy moly!
Favourite tune: "Time Apart"

8. Brutal Truth - End Time

Brutal Truth! Rich Hoak! (anything involving Rich Hoak is kind of awesome - Total Fucking Destruction almost made this list, too). And any time I mention Rich Hoak is a wonderful excuse for this!:

Photo by Christian Misje
Favourite tune: "Killing Planet Earth"

9. Drugs of Faith - Corroded

Richard Johnson has a wicked shout. And shouts yells screams yowls rages in wicked grind bands.
Favourite tune: "Hidden Costs"

10. Circle of Ouroborus - Eleven Fingers

Another spacious post-black metal sort of thing. Really effective at an oxymoronic claustrophobic expansiveness.
Favourite tune: "Sigil of Suns"

11. Tasseomancy - Ulalume

The band formerly known as Ghost Bees are back with neo-folk which is sparse sparse sparse. Echoing, lonely, melancholic, eerie, spidery, enchanting.
Favourite tune: "Diana"

12. Death Grips - Exmilitary

Dark, esoteric, experimental hip hop (who would ever have expected those words on one of my year-end lists, huh?!). Challenging, full of great beats and huge vocals.
Favourite tune: "Beware"


Tom Waits - Bad as Me

This doesn't really count in my ordered list. Any album Tom Waits releases gets picked up in my year end list. It doesn't even matter. Some really good hiccuping rock 'n' roll on this one.
Favourite tune: "Get Lost"


Oh, and another one that would've made this list if I'd been certain of its release date: Soundtrack to the Life of a Car Nearly Driving Into the Pacific by Richard Laviolette. I'm not sure if this was a 2011 release or late-2010, so it's not on here. Just in case. But, as always, damn great stuff from Mr. Laviolette. "Bats" is my favourite from this one.


The full list of contenders (that made it past the final cuts, that is - there was actually a metric shit-tonne more releases that I heard this year. Almost all of which were released by the aforementioned GK):

Akitsa - Auprès de la mort, triomphant!
Altar of Plagues - Mammal
Autopsy - Macabre Eternal
Bestower - s/t
Bird - 2011 Demo
Brutal Truth - End Time
Circle of Ouroborus - Eleven Fingers
Cloud Rat - Fever Dreams
Cloud Rat - s/t
Craft - Void
Death Grips - Exmilitary
Despise You/Agoraphobic Nosebleed - And On and On...
Drugs of Faith - Corroded
Earth - Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light I
Fags Hate God - Viscera
Fen - Epoch
Hoglust - Support Hate
Human Touch - s/t
Inerds - Choice Cuts
Inerds - Stonewall
Kate Bush - 50 Words for Snow
Les Cowboys Fringants - Que du vent
Lock Up - Necropolis Transparent
Mournful Congregation - The Book of Kings
Of the Wand and the Moon - The Lone Descent
PJ Harvey - Let England Shake
Punch - Nothing Lasts
Rotten Sound - Cursed
Soror Dolorosa - Blind Scenes
Tasseomancy - Ulalume
Tom Waits - Bad as Me
Total Fucking Destruction - Hater
Toxic Holocaust - Conjure and Command
Vintersorg - Jordpuls
Weekend Nachos - Worthless
Ygg - Ygg

And, as a final thought: this show - an amazing back-and-forth between Cloud Rat and Inerds:

MMXI

What better time to do this than while hungover on New Year's Day?

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?

huh. I can't think of anything really exceptional. Nothing standoutish. It was mostly a year of plodding along, scraping through, getting by, wrapping my head around the world.

OH!: drink Old Fashioneds. MAN! SO DELICIOUS!

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Last year I said: "Use more footnotes! Write more, create more. Be better, be less disappointing."

I used no footnotes.

I did write more, for a while. (Jürgen struggled , until the end of September, so so close to 60 000 words.)

I was no better.

I was no less disappointing.

For this year:

Again, write more.

Do more.

Be more.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Nope.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Nope.

5. What countries did you visit?

Went to PEI for about a week in August. That was a wonderfully enjoyable temporary escape.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

A job that I enjoy on at least some level. You see, I do understand that I am fortunate to have a job that lets me afford food and shelter and have a little left over at the end of the day, but it would be nice to find something I enjoy, that is fulfilling, that means something more than a paycheque. But a paycheque is certainly appreciated.

At least one completed work of something I can genuinely say is Good - you know: writing, music - that sort of thing. Or, failing that (which is an inevitability), more and stronger work on Jürgen.

Being an all-around better fella'd be all right, too.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

June 17 - Jeanette Winterson's reading at the library. She's been my favourite writer since either the first time I read The Passion (there are no books I've read and re-read more) or the first time I re-opened Sexing the Cherry. She signed my copy of The Passion and it was, all-in-all, quite an exciting evening.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

I wasn't, you know, replete with achievement, but I am quite happy with how some of what I added to Jürgen turned out.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Not doing enough of what I feel makes me me.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Nothing serious.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Maybe Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? It's pretty great. I can't really think of any other stand out purchases of the year.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

G.'s. Always and ever G.'s.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?


14. Where did most of your money go?

Rent, vet bills, food, booze.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

From most to least:
G.
Sam and Hailey.
Jeanette Winterson.
Darkthrone. (they had this big resurgence with me. I can't really explain it, but they just started hitting me again. And I LOVE IT!)

16. What songs will always remind you of 2011?

I can't really think of any specific songs. Maybe "Beware" by Death Grips.
Other than that, I think 2011 would mostly be remembered in bands: Richard Laviolette and The Oil Spills and Cloud Rat

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? Neither, really. 2011 was pretty level, I think. A bit more resigned, but keepin' on!
b) thinner or fatter? About the same, I'm pretty sure. A bit heavier, though, I believe.
c) richer or poorer? Poorer for a while—took some time to recover from more expensive rent coupled with heavy vet bills and a trip to PEI. But climbing back up!

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Cool things.
Engaging.
Writing - I spend so much time sitting at my computer not writing. Why don't I turn some of that time into sitting at my computer writing?

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Complaining.
Being disappointing.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?

Spent it at the apartment and had a nice surprise visit from the folks.

21. Did you fall in love in 2010?

Every single day in endless turnings and spirallings

22. How many one-night stands?



23. What was your favourite TV program?

Breaking Bad and Mad Men and Downton Abbey and I don't think we watched much else?

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Don't think so.

25. What was the best book you read?

My favourite question! I keep a list of everything I read. In WORDPERFECT (BECAUSE I CAN)!

In the order in which I read them (the top 20 of the 77 I made it through):

Sheila Heti - How Should a Person Be?
Roddy Doyle - Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha
James Joyce - Ulysses
Günter Grass - The Box
Susan Orlean - The Orchid Thief
Nicholas Evans - The Loop
Anne Carson - Nox
Cathy Malkasian - Temperance
Leanne Shapton - Important Artifacts and Personal Property from the Collection of Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris, Including Books, Street Fashion, and Jewelry: Saturday, 14 February 2009, New York (Strachan & Quinn Auctioneers)
Zadie Smith - Changing My Mind
Werner Herzog - Conquest of the Useless: Reflections from the Making of Fitzcarraldo
Haruki Murakami - The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
Margaret Atwood - The Blind Assassin
Timothy Findley - Not Wanted on the Voyage
Adam Levin - The Instructions
Christopher Boucher - How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive
John Sayles - A Moment in the Sun
Dani Couture - Algoma
Jeanette Winterson - Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?
Esi Edugyan - Half-Blood Blues

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Grindcore Karaoke

Holy shit. Thank you so much, Jay Randall.

Several of my top albums of 2011 came from this wicked label. That's a post for a later time, though—I'm still making cuts and rearranging.

27. What did you want and get?

There wasn't much that I was yearning for this year.

28. What did you want and not get?

An enjoyable job. Publication.

29. What was your favourite film of this year?

Well, I watched Fitzcarraldo again, so that one. Always that one.

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

Went out for brunch at Brunchworks and supper at Terroni. I turned 29.

Drank some boxwine at home afterward.

31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Yet again: healthy Sam.

More time to spend with G.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

Lounge set.

33. What kept you sane?

G. and Sam and Hailey.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?



35. What political issue stirred you the most?

Toronto's municipal muddles.

36. Who did you miss?

Family. J&E

37. Who was the best new person you met?



38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011?

The T. of Ice

The last few days, it’s been really hot (grossly hot, breath-haltingly hot [okay, maybe that was just yesterday. But yesterday was when I noticed this convergence, so the excessive heat needed to be mentioned built up exaggerated, like some sort of pathetic fallacy mimicking, I don’t know, the bubbling frenzy in my brain as the gears churned and churned and heated up in that capacious space between my ears. And mentioned not least of all because it adds to my meagre narrative. And pathetic fallacy’s always a good time.]) and you know that haze that comes to really hot cities? You know it, sure: the haze that drapes itself across the city like a damp sheet of cheesecloth and changes the feel of the air and changes the colour texture tone of the air and everything around you. Well, I’ve been sitting at my desk at work the last couple days, looking out my window at the diffused dimmed muted light of the skyline and I realised that the colour texture tone of the view outside my window matches almost exactly the colour palette of The Sea of Ice by Caspar David Friedrich.


The buildings around me match the spikes spires broken sheets of ice in colour and tone and—with my farfromperfect eyesight smoothing out (and that muslin haze helping, too) the more distant buildings—even in texture; and it’s not much of a stretch to see those slabs of ice as huge chunks of buildings crumbled collapsed. There are several buildings with cranes roosting on their roofs; the cranes with their long necks (masts) and guy-wires (rigging) that whisper their way into the broken empty husk of the shipwreck.

Ever since I set The Sea of Ice as my work computer’s desktop background, I’ve been seeing it everywhere; the concrete slabs that form the beach at Tommy Thompson Park, any violently thrown-together pile of things and now, outside my workplace window.

Though, at the same time, it’s a strong juxtaposition, too; the painting is all about the power, the overwhelming might of Nature; the utter disregard of Nature for the human world and the view outside my window is more the human attempts at overwhelming Nature, the utter disregard of humanity for Nature (though Nature is patient and resilient and insinuative and just look at any cracking splitting pavement for a glimpse of this and maybe The Sea of Ice also works as portent in a sort of fun dystopian way).

If I were disgustingly rich and the painting were for sale, I would buy it and hang it on my wall and set a chair in front of it and just sit and sit and watch and sit and stare and sit and talk to it and sit and sit

Bonsai 1

So, I'm trying my hand at crafting a bonsai. This is my first attempt and it'll probably end badly, but I'll enjoy it every step of the way. It's so soothing, so calming, so relaxing, so another synonym. I like just looking at the thing and thinking about how to do things with it.

I've also started looking at trees differently, more closely.

When I first brought this little guy (juniperus procumbens nana - a typical firstling) home, it was very lush and way too full. As this is my first attempt at bonsai, I wanted to bring things down to a very sparse, open shape, so I could get an idea of how the branches looked, how to reshape the branches, how to manipulate the tree.

And, when I was looking at that lush, full tree, I saw a lovely flow between the two main branches; there was a fluid motion, an active shape that I felt needed to be exposed. So, I started chopping. And maybe I chopped a bit too much, but I like where we've ended up.

So, without further ado, pictures.

As it was in the beginning:


After the first couple prunings (notice the flow of the two main branches starting to reveal itself; maybe you'll like it, too!):





And today, I made my first attempt at wiring. I was a bit nervous about this — didn't want to do any damage (I've decided to do my damage in other ways, apparently). But, once I started in on wrapping the wire, I felt quite a lot better about it. We'll see how it went in a few weeks.

So, here's how the tree looks tonight (almost entirely bare):

Front (for now):


Back (again, for now [obviously, since if I decide to make the front the not-front, then the back can't be not the not-back]):


I still haven't decided what to do with that weird little branch that's sticking up in the middle, but I don't want to get rid of it and I don't think it looks right as it is. I'm going to sit on it for a while, though.

Looking forward to taking the wire off in a few weeks/a month to see if the branches kept their new shapes.

Also, there's a little piece of branch under one of the wired branches that I think I will try to jin when I decide the time is right to attempt that aspect of bonsai crafting.

Any advice or things to say?

MMX

It's about time I did this, right?

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?

Started an office job. Basically, I'm this guy, but less dancefully talented:



And probably less eloquently upset about the whole thing. Oh, and my ties are definitely not as cool.¹

Felt an earthquake happen. That was new and something I'd like to never experience again even if it were one as slight as that thank you very much.

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Looking back at last year's resolutions,² I've been almost moderately successful; I've [redacted] only, like, twice³ and I spent more time writing in 2010.⁴ Still a selfish pail of turpentine, unfortunately.⁵
This year? Use more footnotes!⁶ Write more, create more. Be better, be less disappointing.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

R. & E. had a baby. So I'm some sort of uncle or something.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Nope.

5. What countries did you visit?

I live underground and I work in the sky. You figure it out.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?

A job that I enjoy on at least some level.⁷ At least one completed work of something - you know: writing, music - that sort of thing.⁸ A self that I can genuinely enjoy.

7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

March 29. G.'s birthday and my first day at the new job.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Getting a less shitty job, I'd say. That's it. I wasn't all that full of achievement.⁹

9. What was your biggest failure?

Not writing more, not creating things, not doing anything good in a creative sense.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Nothing serious.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

I didn't buy much in 2010 that wasn't food- or drink-related that I can remember, though I did make an order with NH to get all the CB and DSO albums I didn't own. It hasn't arrived yet, though. Oh, and a few books, no doubt.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

G.'s. Always and always G.'s.¹⁰

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

Mine, at times. Probably not appalled, though, as that, to me, sort of carries with it the idea of, like, surprise and, man, am I ever not surprising.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Rent, vet bills, food, booze, student loans.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

G.
Sam and Hailey.

16. What songs will always remind you of 2010?

Rites of Spring - "For Want Of"; 'cause it's awesome and it gets played frequently because of that simple fact.
Darkthrone - "Circle the Wagons"; 'cause Darkthrone is Darkthrone. And new Darkthrone is Darkthrone. And that means awesome.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? Happier. Yup.
b) thinner or fatter? About the same, I'm pretty sure. Firmer, though.
c) richer or poorer? Richer; my new job paid (very) slightly more than the previous one. And, as of January 1, or so I was told on January 6, it'll pay slightly more on top of that. Decent.
Oh, and more student loan is paid off. So, less debt = richer, right? Right.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Cool things.
Writing - I spend so much time sitting at my computer not writing. Why don't I turn some of that time into sitting at my computer writing?¹¹

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Nothing.¹²
Complaining.
Being disappointing.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?

Spent it in the comfort of The Cave.¹³ It was a wonderfully relaxed, too short holiday.

21. Did you fall in love in 2010?

over and over and over and profoundly and achingly and¹⁴

22. How many one-night stands?



23. What was your favourite TV program?

Breaking Bad and DS9 and Flight of the Conchords and Kids in the Hall.¹⁵

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Don't think so.

25. What was the best book you read?

I re-read both:
Only Revolutions by Mark ¹⁶ Danielewski
Jimmy Corrigan, The Smartest Kid on Earth by Chris Ware
because they are amazing amazing amazing works.

Great first-time reads:
Gut Symmetries by Jeanette Winterson (100% my favourite writer.)
A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again by David Foster Wallace
The Famished Road by Ben Okri
All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren
Market Day by James Sturm
Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie
Gob's Grief by Chris Adrian
Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?

I got myself a last.fm subscription, so I heard so many new bands¹⁷ that I don't even know.

27. What did you want and get?

A better job.

28. What did you want and not get?

An enjoyable job. Publication

29. What was your favourite film of this year?

My Best Fiend.

Which gave me this:



Thank you, Mr. Herzog (and, obviously, Mr. Kinski, too).

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 28. I had a wonderfully relaxed day at home, spending time with G.¹⁸

31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

I'm gonna second G.'s answer and say: healthy Sam.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?

Tight pants and tighter underwear.

33. What kept you sane?

G. and Sam and Hailey.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?



35. What political issue stirred you the most?

Toronto's municipal election.

36. Who did you miss?

Family. J&E

37. Who was the best new person you met?



38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010?

¹⁹

_______________________________________________________________________________

1 This statement is doubly true for the hairdo.↑

2 Find a job that doesn't make me [redacted] on a regular basis and to start writing again. Being less of a selfish pail of turpentine.
↑

3 Which could hardly be considered as some sort of regular basis issue.↑

4 Still depressingly small amounts of time and output, though.↑

5 Two outta three ain't bad, though; or so I've been told.↑

6 After struggling with trying to make them work in that other post and finally finally getting there, I need to use them all the time now.↑

7 Other than: at least it's better than the last job I was working.↑

8 An ambitious goal for me, I know. But a fella can dream, right?↑

9 SURPRISE!!!↑

10 Seriously, G. makes every day feel like a better version of itself.↑

11 There is no satisfactory answer to this question.↑

12 As in, I wish I'd spent less time doing nothing. Not as in there's nothing I should change.↑

13 The newly-minted name for this apartment that I promise to never use again.↑

14 over and over and over and profoundly and achingly and↑

15 Which I had actually previously never seen more of than a couple sketches.↑

16 Z.↑

17 Scads of them, even.↑

18 What more could I ask for? I mean, really now.↑

19 But: Thank you Mario! as in Sorry Daniel, Our Princess as in a good job and castle as in year.↑

Oh, boy, let me tell you...

Have you ever thought that, since you had to sit in front of your workplace desk on a Saturday morning, that it'd be a great idea to bring—instead of a lunch, since your workday usually finishes pretty early—a few snacks in your typical Tupperware sandwich container, perhaps still filled with the crumbs of yesterday's sandwich (which was painfully bereft of peanut butter as your workplace is one of those nightmare, bizarro worlds known as Peanut Free [sadly not referring to the price you pay for peanuts here] Workplaces)? Well, I have!

And, well, let me tell you, let me provide you with a handy little tip; I'll give you a moment here—don't worry: I'll wait; go! grab your pen and your piece of paper or piece of fabric, scrap of cloth, receipt, bare skin.

Okay! Ready? Here it is, folks: don't take a cheese string. Have you ever eaten a warm, soft, shudder-inducingly malleable cheese string (I'm sure I can think of at least one person reading this who could probably answer yes to this question...)? It's so not worth it. It's so rubbery; I can't even properly describe the experience. I kind of expected it to turn to some sort of living, moving sludge in my mouth. It was almost horrifying. But, damn it, it was still tasty. But don't do it. For the sake of your mental health. Eat 'em cold. Eat 'em cold.

Who Needs Aeroplanes?!

Double rum 'n' coke and Doritos for supper?

Sure, it may sound like a great idea to sit at BAR:120 at the airport¹ at the slick, too high, too far away, red bar on a slick², wobbly white chair—spindly-legged, stream-lined, multi-descriptored, multiply hyphened—eating a bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos, staining my left forefinger and thumb a perfect, noxious orange, and sipping, through an incredibly wide-bored black straw, a magnificently pale rum 'n' coke while hockeycentral³ plays silently, subtitlelessly, on two flat-screen Toshibas above the bar and planes and luggage carts are visibly puttering about, framed by bottles of Beefeater and Bombay Sapphire, Grey Goose and Smiroff, Glenfiddich and Jack Daniel's⁴ and various jazz standards⁵ and classical and opera and Elton John⁶ flow from the speakers⁷ of some complex system which involves a screen with white scrolling text on a deepish blue⁸ background and periodically there's a deep, unsettling, thrumming vibrating going on, when I finally notice the three light fixtures shaped like airplanes—two jets⁹ flanking an old prop job.

But do you know what's an even better idea? A second double rum 'n' coke¹⁰.

And that's how my airport adventure begins¹¹.

Coming soon: the Flight. Or, rather, me in relation to the flight. You see, I'm one of those people who hates flying, who starts shaking and sweating and imagining all sorts of violent and fanciful things happening¹².

"Final boarding call for flight number OH MY FUCK WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, bound for lying curled on the floor in a fetal position, streaming copious quantities of tears and streaming snot; mouth open; face contorted."

And Christ, my wrist is sore who even uses pencils and papers any more and I'll see you again soon, when I start documenting my reactions on the actual plane. Expect: Daniel represented by: Puddle.

Will I loose these two double rum 'n' cokes¹³ into the motion sickness bag, or will my ginger pills¹⁴ save me? Stay tuned to find out!

Oh shit—finally! I think the magic potion's starting to wear off, though¹⁵.

Oh god. I think Air Canada spelled flotation incorrectly¹⁶.

The lead-up to getting on the plane¹⁷ involved much pacing and excessive peeing¹⁸, so I'm actually glad to finally get on the plane and get this ordeal started so it can get finished.

I like that we get told to turn off our iPods these days¹⁹.

Like drinking the rum 'n' cokes, writing this is an experiment²⁰. You see, I thought that maybe if I was focussed on something other than OH HOLY SHIT THIS IS UNNATURAL²¹ I'd be able to handle that whole being where no human has any right being thing.

I open my little air spray nozzle guy full-bore and, for some reason, there's an absolutely lovely, frigid draught blowing at my ankles²².

Don't get me wrong, though²³: as much as the entire experience terrifies me, I love take-off. It's such a gigantic push, thrust, surge, force; it's positively awesome²⁴; it's monolithic; it's hungry; it's angry; it's impassioned; it's damn near as sexual as a huge phallic machine can get. It's good. Until that sinking hits my guts and that damn primal terror hits and I feel that panicked rush of holy moly where's the ground are we allowed to be doing this why didn't I just walk and there's the sweat and I almost dropped my pencil²⁵ from my instantly too-slick fingers.

Why can't we just fly along at around 100ft above the ground? Is 33 000 all that necessary?

Looking out the window²⁶ is humbling²⁷. And, at the same time, impressive. I feel a surge of misguided pride at the folly of humanity and our "development" fetish, our "development" idolatry. Damn, we mucked shit up, huh? But everything looks so SimCitily neat! Neat as in swell and as in tidy; all the grossness of humanity's tenure is all glossed over up here²⁸.

But back to the simple idea of flying; I get this Ikarian²⁹ thrill while my heart rate increases, while my breathing gets shallower and shallower.

I'll be back shortly before the descent for landing happens!

Changed my mind!—I came back early. Just to keep this YawnFest rolling³⁰. I just wanted to talk about getting... actually, nevermind: I got bored just thinking about writing it³¹. So, landing time it is, then.

Oh shit. I bet Ikarus didn't have to deal with turbulence³². I'm shaking like madness. We hit a big patch and the bottom dropped out of everything for a terrifying two seconds that lasted at least several hours. My fortunately empty Coke can went flying. As did my pencil. Through those fear-sweat slickened fingers again. I managed to find it, though, with the help of the kind woman³³ sitting in the aisle seat beside me and held my book, journal and loose sheets of paper for me while I used my iPod as a flashlight to hunt down my hiding pencil. I found it jammed under my seat and hurry up and land safely you damn³⁴ flying contraption.

I'm doing that scared breathing thing I do where I breathe in really shallowly through my nose and then let it out through my nose like it's a fucking tonne of bricks.

And oh damn I have to do all of this again on Monday. Why did I agree to this? I am some kind of fool. I really need to pee. But there's no chance that I'm getting out of this seat 'til we're on the ground.

There's the perceptible declension, felt long before it's seen; the increased drag on the plane: we're starting in on the final approach and it's time to stop writing before I vomit out my panic on the ceiling. More from the ground.

My guts are incredibly perceptive; every bank, every rise, every fall: they know about it before I fully register that some change in motion is happening. Upon landing, that primal, instinctual terror that's been percolating takes hold³⁵ and it's all I can do to not scramble over the seats, pushing people out of my damn way before the plane decides to eat me.

And it takes my more feral, instinctual aspects a good long while to calm down.

The couple Dad-styled double³⁶ rum 'n' cokes waiting for me certainly helped with the calming.

I can't wait to go through all of this again tomorrow³⁷.
__________________________________________________

1 Ol' Pearson International.↑

2 not as in slippery, but as in cool, hep, et cetera. The red bar, however, hits on both points.↑

3 showing three men in front of an unknown—to me—statue which is wearing a Chicago Blackhawks jersey 
(red) and a helmet (white), leading me to reminisce about the days when I cared
enough about hockey to choose the Blackhawks as my favourite team.↑

4 as well as, for completion's sake—as I feel troubled at not including them; feel a pang—Dewar's, Kahlúa, 
Grand Marnier, Bacardi, Canadian Club, Crown Royal, Rémy Martin, Tanqueray, Hennessy and 
Courvoisier.↑

5 "Mack the Knife," anyone?↑

6 "Someone Saved My Life Tonight." Who doesn't love butterflies, right?↑

7 beside the Dewar's and Grand Marnier at opposite ends of the bar.↑

8 cerulean, maybe?↑

9 which look more like wingèd: rockets, ballistic missiles, unidentified translucent and glowing space 
sausages than they do like jets.↑

10 which is, if possible, even more magnificently (or, as I prefer, magnificentlier) pale than the first.↑

11 other than the transitting there and the post-TTC trekking across (and up) vast expanses from the TTC 
drop-off point.↑

12 overpasses crumbling under the bus; lightning striking the plane and somehow making it explode;
the plane somehow imploding, me getting to feel the compaction and then, again somehow—demigodly, 
I guess (because I don't even understand how I'd otherwise make it this far in some sort of state of 
sensation)—experiencing my own implosion within the plane: a microcosmic repetition; or, simply, 
running out of air, feeling my lungs fail with each attempt and, painfully obviously, just 
crashing. Which is, of course—even in its unlikeliness—the likeliest disaster I dream up.↑

13 which were totally drunk as an experiment in fear-subdual.↑

14 organic Gravol is kind of a stunning thing. (Mostly the) Same stomach-calming skills without the sleep 
for weeks side-effects.↑

15 lesson learned: don't ingest the fear-subdual potions too far in advance of the need of fearlessness.↑

16 I just used our old friend dictionary.com to discover that floatation, AC's idea of the word, is an 
acceptable variant. This is unjustifiably, unreasonably, comforting.↑

17 that'd be the waiting, of course.↑

18 which, I'm sure, can mostly be attributed to the two double rum 'n' cokes but, also, whenever I'm 
nervous, my urine tends to generate exponentially more quickly.↑

19 when I went to Iceland in 2005, I turned off NOTHING! That's right: I didn't have an iPod. I was listening 
to mix tapes I'd made. Yeah. Mix tapes. On one of those good ol' yellow Sony Walkmans. The 
kind with that handy little flip-lock thing that closed over the buttons.↑

20 why did I wait 'til now to tell you this? 'Cause this is where we start to find out if it worked.↑

21 speaking of, have you seen the X-Files episode "The Unnatural"? It's probably one of my favourite TV 
things. And do you know why? Baseball, inexplicably. I've discovered that, in an interest that 
can be traced back to Field of Dreams, I have a keen passion for things that romanticise and 
mythologise baseball. Why is that, exactly? I have no idea. I find the game dull, boring, and an 
absolute pleasure to watch. Wait. What? How does that even work? I can't explain it. All I can say 
is that it does. Work, that is. I thrill to the idea of baseball. I yawn to the practice of 
baseball. But I can't stay away. I think, though, on the most basic of levels, that my interest 
in it comes from the investiture of emotion in its mythologisation; the characters in these things 
love baseball as though it's the only thing they've ever encountered that's worth loving. And 
feeling that passionate about something is something I can support, understand and feel. Recently, 
in contrition for not having bought Kinsella's Shoeless Joe that time I saw it for under $10 
and felt a skip in my heart beat's pattern and then somehow talked myself out of buying it, I bought 
Malamud's The Natural. I look forward to reading it and going to more Jays' games. I'll let 
you know how that works out for me.↑

22 I need as much cold as possible in this flying situation; I sweat like mad. And, usually, end up 
ridiculously stinky: the sweat of fear has such an awful, acrid stench. Or is that just 
something my olfactory factory cooks up? It's true for my mind and its close friends, 
though, so whatever. My sweat after a hard day's work at Vesey's—as a for instance—always 
smelled so—not good—but wholesome, pure, deserved. My plane sweat just smells like 
excreted fear.↑

23 and here's the snag.↑

24 in the traditional sense of the word.↑

25 even with its rubberised little grip.↑

26 when I can stomach it.↑

27 I always seem to get the window seat. Is it punishment for something I don't know about? But I love it, 
god damn it. Being the masochist I am.↑

28 apparently, fearing, from the very depths of my guts (which seem to extend pretty deeply), for my life, 
turns me into a philosopher whose profundity rivals that of your profoundest university freshman 
smoking pot for the first time.↑

29 as in, "of (or like, really) Ikarus," obviously.↑

30 and to keep my mind occupied, of course.↑

31 in all seriousness, I was going to talk about getting a can of Coke. Yeah. See what I do when I'm reaching 
for something? Clutching at straws? Except the can only comes with a plastic cup. No straws.↑

32 apparently having your wings' glue melt and subsequently plummeting to your death in the sea is better 
than being bounced around a little bit. Oh, Deimos and Phobos.↑

33 who's reading Alice Munro's Runaway and seems to like doing this about as much as I do and who 
screamed out "Jesus Christ" and "Oh holy God" when we hit the large pocket of turbulence.↑

34 and by that I mean absolutely wonderful please don't hurt me.↑

35 even though I by now recognise that I'm on the ground and that the plane won't win this time (the battle, 
certainly, but not the war).↑

36 equivalent to a more than generous triple or a stingy quadruple from less discerning tenders of bar.↑

37 added by the calmed representation of your humble writer while transcribing his scribbles to electronic 
posterity.↑