Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Sam VS Judy (The Mayoral Debate)









Some great fights happen in Vegas, some in Madison Square Garden, and some in the cafeteria at the downtown campus of Red River College.
Sam Vs Judy


The announcer enters the ring: "Another shooting happened last night in Windsor Park, as Mayor what do plan to do about the ongoing crime, auto theft and gangs on our our streets?"


Round 1/Safer Streets
Ding.
Katz comes out swinging:
Auto theft has gone down 74% he says. There are 58 more police on the street. 20 walk the beat, and the others are being utilized in areas such as auto theft investigation, street crime in the West End and S.W.A.T.
"It is frusterating having a revolving door justice system where an offender can be arrested on Tuesday and let go on Thursday"

Judy supports more police on the street.
She throws out her first punch packed with the four "P's" Powerline, Protection, Prevention, Punishement.
"We need to get to the root of the problem; community hubs, more support, more money invested in community centres.

Katz gives his head a shake from the mild hit and in return pretty much tells Wasylycia-Leis to do the same thing as he states 64 million has gone into community centres but later in the debate that number changes to 45 million. All I can hear is the 90's hit from C&C Music Factory "Things that make you go mmm" playing in my head.

Katz is firm on taking care of crime today, and that the other side takes time, although he's all about getting youth on the right track through opportunity, he's a firm believer in if they do the crime you give them the time.

Judy wants to give them good paying jobs?

I say make them earn it! She may have the give and take thing reversed. What kind of message does that really send? Break the law and the city will give you a break. Where's my gat, my colors, and my jimmy, I'm off to get me a good paying job, boi.

The debate began to get heated and began to sound like it was taking place in a school yard, the word mother started being thrown around, and continued throughout the debate, it started off innocent with mothers concerned with why there is repeat crime and than Katz calling Wasylycia-Leis mom because he felt like he was being scolded by his.
Whether we were young students or mature students we all felt a bit more mature than the two who may or may not be responsible for the maturing of Winnipeg which is still in it's cocoon stage compared to the vivid thriving butterfly cities such as Montreal, Vancouver, or Edmonton.

All in all that round went to Katz;

Round 2/Choppers, Property Tax, and Infrastructure, oh my.
Ding.
Enter the whirlybird:
JWL throws out a punch, she wants to review the use of the city helicopter on an annual basis but Katz swears by the need for an eye in the sky, the bigger cities such has Calgary and Edmonton has one so why shouldn't we, he thinks it will cut down on road chases and increase safer streets.
To have safer streets at least for our vehicles we need to put some money into our infrastructure.

Judy throws another swing; With a 4 billion deficit we must raise property tax 2% over the next four years.
Sam hits back
The deficit is 3.7 billion and it is over 10 years, property tax has nothing to do with income and it will only hurt the working poor.
Katz wants to freeze taxes and work on making this city more competitive so people will stay here, and he should know about a compettiive job market, he hires members of the Indian Posse & the CreComm Posse.

Round 2 started well for Judy but in the end went to Sam

There was a lot more bouting banter regarding more recycling, how composting would be ideal, blind trusts and spending accountability.
But, Fear not, Where Sam's spending is a little more public accessible just knock on Judy's door, ask her to put on a pot of Joe and the keys to her garage and you can perk up and rest easy.

Overall it was a fight to the end and cheap shots and hits below the belt weren't spared as Punch and Judy pulled at eachother's strings.
JWL, as much as I think she has some good ideas, she clung to the community centre thing too much and began sounding like a broken record. Which is unfortunate, because I think change can be good, but I am also prone to go with the lesser of two evils which is usually the familiar, even if the familiar is a rock n roll, baseball enthusiast.

The big question is; "Is he safe or is he out?' Wheres a good ump when you need one? For that matter where is Brad and Rav?  I could vote on that guy for his 21 Jumpstreet hair cut alone. (K, maybe not, but he seems cool.)

Kudos to my fellow classmate Haley Brigg who asked a great question and got a poor answer.

One of my other classmates Jennifer David made a valiant effort to show some true leadership and get them to say something nice about one another. I am guessing they both had mothers who taught them; if you can't say something nice, than don't say anything at all. I'm sure blocking that motto out a time or two in the debate was merely an oversight.
So instead they gave eachother an awkward hug like a brother and sister who were being forced to, when secretly they wanted to kill eachother.

The fight continues but the winner isn't final nor is the answer as to whose corner I stand in with a towel, mouth guard and water, but if I have would have to choose a winner of the morning with today's verbal boxing,  than I would say Katz had his Rocky moment replacing his cry of "Adrianne" with "Winnipeg"

But that is just one man's view on another man's and woman's fight.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Helter Skelter ( A poem for those who fight each day in confusion)

Helter Skelter

I stand
In quicksand
Waist deep
I chase the dreams of an insomniac
That never sleeps
An angel weeps
On my right shoulder
As the devil whispers evil nothings in my left ear
I’m only left here
Not knowing how to get there
To where?
It’s unclear
I’m a tattooed tear on the face of a clown
Feeling like I don’t belong
I’m lying on the ground
Making cement angels
At one of life’s intersections
Raindrops, of perplexion
Fall on me
I’m at a stall, you see
Life’s street lights call to me
Red light, Yellow light, Green light, Go
Where to proceed to
I don’t know
My thoughts form fast, and linger slow
They encompass me
Like a murder of crows, they caw at me
I saw but could not see
All the idiocracy
Entangled in my up to know odyssey
I thirst for knowledge and clarity
I’m parched
Lying on the cold cemented truth
My legs arched
Giving birth to excuse after excuse
Until I can no longer endure the labor pains
I need to adopt a new brainchild
I’m caught in a storm with no shelter
It rains, Helter Skelter

Friday, October 1, 2010

Chamelion: (The struggle to change, to fight for the girl that's getting away)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uU0oJD2CmpU/Old track of mine/Check it out
Feeling a little nostalgic, here are a couple of old songs I recorded.

(They are kind of pop esque, more so than I now wish, you've been warned)

In the fight of life sometimes you feel that "Nothing Ends Well"
(A jazzy snippet)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1j_ld-_DEk

Thursday, September 30, 2010

The Fantastic Five & The Fight To Take Out the Trash

It's a Rip
It's a Tear
It's........ Buyer Beware

Our heroes were spending another day in class when they got the call, they were needed to warn consumers and save them from their bad habits and perhaps the most evil Villian of all...... False Advertising and his minions.
False and his minions seemed to be everywhere, and so many situations of theirs, needed to be dealt with; so where to start.
The Fantastic Five noticed that not only crime littered their beloved Manitoba streets but also garbage.
They were off to do some investigating and finally earlier this afternoon caught up with the Trash Bag Gang.

The Duo:/ The Rona Boys/ There was Eco Recycable and Eco Biodegradable a father and son.
Eco Bio was a hippie, he promised to be good to the earth, but he also promised to be strong in his fight with trash, The Fantastic Five planned to call him on this promise.

Eco Recycable wasn't as commited to the earth as his son but made up for it in his strength of character.

Old School: The Husky: Husky didn't believe in going green, he just was; and was beginning to go soft in the seams.

The Pretty Boy: Glad Force Flex: GFF was the gang "G", he had the diamond bling and was known to stretch the truth on the weight he held in the community.

The Ladies Man: Great Value: he was popular with the housewives, and quite the charmer with the pocketbook but how much weight the charm carried with the ladies.....

The Fantastic Five was about to find out.....

Michelle, the Host with the Most lured them to her own turf and she knew even though sticks and stones don't break most bones, it might just tear this gang up.

Sharon the Eye, she captured everyting, this gang could pull no tricks, she called their bluff and caught all their stuff on film.

Miss Detail aka Brea, she had detail down to the letter and there was no trash talk this gang could do to get away from her stamp of approval.

The Paper Boys aka Chadd & Dave, it was Paper Vs Plastc as the boys tested the gangs true stength.....

RIP!
 TEAR!
SEEP!

Tune in next time when the Fantastic Five uncover the true strengths of the Trash Bag Gang........

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Facebook Vs Twitter

This blog is for the Die Hard facebookers, the Hudson Hawk tweeters, Kenton Larsen.........
and Bruce Willis, to whom I never got to say: Sorry about Demi. She was hot! ....and still is.  Way to go Ashton you're the man, except in Killers; that movie sucked!

The main event:

In one corner the Title Fighter, Facebook and....well everybody, people you went to school with and never really liked, and you're pretty sure they don't like you but they are there,  so are random people you met in social settings, and stalkers that out of nowhere ask to be in your corner and and in a split text decision, they win you over by surviving  eenie miney mo and avoid a tko.
So in the the FB ring you are feeling pretty good as your 500 fans cheer you on but in your normal everyday fight, maybe 5 people actually have your back.

In the other corner, the new kid, the contender. Twitter.  Twitter is like a new song you hear on the radio, unfamilar, but has some kick and by the end of the day your singing it's praise.

Ding.

Both fighters face their opponent than begin to fly around the ring. They are both cocky competitors, throwing jabs trying to out beat eachother in the status quo and update.

They talk big but are men of few words one always ends up getting punched out after 140 words or so.

Facebook taunts Twitter, saying he's just for the birds, Twitter won't back down and grabs the bull by the horns, and after that kicks the ass of  every other farm animal that facebook trys to throw his way.

The champ is getting tired and people are getting tred of the champ, more begin to follow Twitter in his fight.

Facebook digs deep, hoping he has some hidden treasure inside that can buy his way out of this fight, he punches Twitter in the stomach

Twitter wobbles for a moment but is actually getting a second wind and stronger...he winds up and punches his opponent in the FACE!

Facebook is down for the count. Twitter a featherweight fighter, offered up some heavy competition and is the new Champ.

Coming soon: Twitter VS Bruce in Die Hard 5; Tweet With A Vengence

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Fighting the Good Fight!

Alright Folks
Enough cutesy blogs for a moment, and the tweet one was for Kenton since he requested so nicely, but time for a little substance.

Let's start off on a personal note:

-CreComm 3 Vs The Streeter:
Round 1:

CreComm3 prevailed and all did better than expected was the census, I have to give a shout out to my new good friend and the the top of our class, the journalist Ali of the week, Mr. Ryan McBride; Congrats Ryan!
The whole class can sleep easier now, at least til friday.

-Finkleman Vs Public Speaking

Ken Finkleman author of Noah's Turn graced us with his presence to end the school day. He began quiet scoping out his opponent, us the audience, started with a little dancing in the ring he said he hadn't spoken in public for a while but than came out swinging.
After a bit you would have never known it.
I learnt more about how the system is crumbling and how Jon Stewart and Colbert is selling out than I did about where the passion from his book stemed from, but was fully entertained.
He was a colorful character to say the least, in fact he was Noah or vice versa.

I was up close and personal, I felt spit and laughed as his dark humor made light of the event.
 Plus I got him to sign my book, which was kinda cool.

- The Main Event of the Evening

For 6:00 I ventured down the street to 300 Princess, Siloam Mission, where I gave 3 hours of my time.

Chadd Vs Spuds
I peeled a couple pails of potatoes, hadn't done that since I worked at a Jamaican restaurant when I was 15.
Where my boss at the time said:
"What ya doin man, ya gotta be gettin all de skin off de potata na"
My skills have improved since than.
The food was prepped, the metal window opened and I stood on the front line, where I served the homeless.
Across from me bolted to the wall was a flat screen tv, which I thought was nice, it gave more of an at home feel, but what was on the tv channel; I thought was interesting, perhaps some poetic justice in a way.

It was Mike Tyson, a man who has fought a good fight both in and outside the ring, he is a man no stranger to struggle, not unlike any of the good people in line for a warm meal.

John Lennon once said: Life is what happens while your making other plans, and I am sure not one of the people I served had ever planned to be where they are.

They are the beautiful broken but not unfixable, I saw a couple of guys I knew from one situation or another.

I didn't get a chance to talk to many for as long as I would have liked.  But just having the chance to help out and serve them a warm meal, and to know that the roast beef and potatoes and veggies, plus dessert, was what made their day, felt good.

Back to Finkleman for a moment in his novel the character Noah recalls his prof saying:
 "Everyone has their own battle"

That really jumped out at me tonight as I was in the corner of the day to day fighter, it humbled me and made me thankful and realize one should keep fighting, no matter what punches life throws your way.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Tweet Club

Been a matter of days since my joining of tweet club. Membership mandatory.
An underground cyber room we duel in tweets the locale where I sling flash fiction also mandatory.
Flash fiction is like crack rock once you start  it's hard to stop.


First rule of tweet club is you have to tweet.
Second rule of tweet club is you have to tweet.
Like Tyler you have followers.

Third rule: When your tweet reaches 140 your tweet is done.
Fourth rule. One tweet at a time.

Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a tweeter, it may be for the birds, but if you wanna soar with the eagles, you must first learn to tweet.

The sky is the limit in my new found Communication bliss.

KISS
Keep it simple stupid you only got 140 characters, a chance to show your true character, and post your blog and other links.

Get crazy!
Have fun!
Mischief, Mayhem, Tweets

Saturday, September 18, 2010

FAB FOUR VS THE STONES

Poll of the week almost got away from me:
So......

Do All You Need is Love?
Or does one need the Satisfaction of a good ass kicking

Both have great hits!
I'm a Beatle's man myself.

Ooh Ah Oooh... Do you want to have a gang fight?
oooh ah oooh
Do you promise not to tell?
Closer.....
Oooh ah ooooh
Let me punch you in the ear
Beatles vs Stones
Your opinion let me  hear.....

On who would win... Gang mentality or one on one
Modern or West Side Story style ..... you decide

My guess would be that Keith would be having George crying for his mom and his sweet lord.
He's kind of a crazy pirate...


But  I'm still a Beatlemaniac through and through.....

Let me know your favorite Beatle or Stone, your  favorite song or tell me would win a fight with who and what  even Clue style if you wish.....

Ex: It was John in the yellow submarine with a bat and Jack flash will jump no more..... whatever...you decide....

Remember the second rule......

You must commment at Fight Blog

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

The Fight Within/ Fight Club Part II

Fellow classmates: I took a creative writing class for fun two summers ago and one of the assignments was to write a  condensed prequel or sequel to a movie we liked in short story form. I was looking for something when I got home and my sequel to Fight Club literally fell at my feet. In light of my blog, thought I would post it for fun, hope those who give it a gander, enjoy it.

The Fight Within
Fight Club Part II

    I am Tyler's hideous scar.
I am stared at and recognized, but never questioned.
I have tried to forget about Tyler, but his scar is embedded in my face. I feel like I haven't been completely honest, seat 7F was not the first time I met Tyler Durden, nor was it the first time Tyler met Jack.
   I am Jack's screaming embarassment.
Tyler and I once had a conversation of who we would most like to fight.
I said my boss; Tyler said his dad, one in the same.
My dad's name was Jack.
Jack wanted me to get a good job, a respectable wardrobe, and tangible possesions; we can convince other people we're something we're not, but never ourselves.
We are our parents.
   In any dictionary, the term boss; is to supervise, control, and give orders to. The world needs a boss, for we are lacking control and are without order, and don't tell me GOD is it. For, he has washed his hands of us since Adam and Eve, now he just laughs as we bask in our naked essence, too oblivious to be ashamed.
We are GOD's comic relief.
These thoughts are racing through my head, as I lay on this floral print sturdy couch. My left hand is tucked in my pants as I drift through thought clouds; staring at the taupe painted walls.
Taupe is said to be soothing, which is why it is the color of choice in mental institutions; which is where I am.
People tend to question your frame of mind, when you shoot yourself in the face.
"I shot Tyler" I said.
"We know" would be there reply.
   There's some fat female therapist sitting across from me trying to open me up. She's having as much luck, as when you try to open a wine bottle, and the cork breaks and gets wedged in the neck, and no matter how hard you try, you can't get it out. All I can think of, is how many bars of soap her fat ass would make. I respond to her, my lips are moving but it might as well be my sphincter.
Jack's sphincter is conversating.
   I'm thinking about Marla Singer, I can't get a hold of her, man, that girl could fuck. The therapist is now talking about improving my self esteem, Tyler told me self-improvement is masturbation.
Jack's cock is crowing.
The therapist asks "Where does this destructive behaviour stem from?"
I say nothing, thats Rule 1. Rule 2, see Rule 1.
   The best memories I have with my father are when he beats the shit out of me. I never got a hug, or a pat on the back, or even much converation. When his clenched hand made contact, those were the moments I felt most alive and close to him. It was our father and son time. The bonding of men.
For my father I would give the shirt of my back. I am barefoot and walking on eggshells. Rule 6.
Jack's nose is broken as is my concentration; I haven't slept in three weeks.
History repeats itself as I ride the viscious unicycle, I long for tears. I long for Robert Paulson, that big moosie, his embrace was my vacation, and I killed him. Not in the traditional sense, but through Project Mayhem.
   The term mayhem; is to do a damaging or violent action, or to commit the crime of crippling or mutating a person. I look down at the acid burn on my hand, and with that hand I stroke the crooked train track on my face.
I am Tyler's Project Mayhem.
I am an innocent criminal. Project Mayhem has completely spun out of control since I've been in here; we get to watch the news in the common room. The Parker-Morris building was the first of many to fall down, it began the domino effect in this city's mass destruction. Cars overturned and on fire, stampedes of people run wild in the streets making the L.A. riots look tame.
Tyler Durden Lives graffiti talks hard, underground fight clubs infest our city like the plague, mayhem is everywhere.

   Most people feel they are legends in their own mind, and here a part of my mind has become a legend.
I watch these orderlies in the ward and I feel pity for them, they are the glorrified babysitters of GOD's faux pas'; the one that delivers my food tray nods and whispers.
"We have the girl, the crow flies at midnight sir."
I swear I'm hearing things.
"What" I say.
"The crow flies at midnight."
He unbuttons his uniform shirt showing me a t-shirt that reads: Tyler says. I need no more explanation, history repeats itself. Tyler was the splice in the film of the human mind, giving subliminal commands that you feel compelled to follow through on.
They were breaking me out for the greater good of Project Mayhem and there was nothing I could do about it. At the stroke of midnight I was muzzled, so screaming was useless. In fact, in the Psych ward screams were an unpleasant amenity. This new security guard carried me out; it was all part of their plan.
They were looking for order and thought I was it.
   I feel like I haven't been completely honest, seat 7F was not the first time I met Tyler Durden, nor was it the last.
Tyler was the ambassador of the blue-collar society. Tyler oozed cool in his pimp fur coat, shaved head and aviator sunglasses, as he held open the door of the van I'm being thrown into.
Like a broken scratchy record; this question screams.
Who would you want to fight to the death?
The answer; myself.




Monday, September 13, 2010

Struggle

We live in a world of story-tellers; even if their stories are never heard
Everyone has stories
The Mighty
The Beaten
The Broken
It is usually the beaten that have the unheard tales of Love, Struggle and Adversity

In a crowded coffee shop, a man named Dan approached me and only me; asking for some change
Was he asking for copper and silver or something much more.....
Maybe a change in perspective or society
I gave him all I had in my pockets, but was fresh out of hope
He got himself a sandwich and dessert, when he returned I asked his name with my hand extended.

Behind his strained pain stained eyes arose a look of surprise, hands shook, his were purple and weathered, beaten from the cold of the weather and the world.

He pulled out an extension cord with no female end; This hits me as a metaphor as how unconnected we all can be and are and often alone with our own fight.

On a side note:
I am so bothered by this ongoing struggle between bullys and victims, when will it end. Cases like Dustin Lafortune being tortured and now Gerald Dumas being lit on fire when all he wanted was  an evening walk and a six pack. These stories pull on my heart strings that I wish were attached to bells and could toll a sound of justice.

I long for the days when the words Friendly Manitoba resembled a truth and I wish I could be a crime fighter and that the fight for safer streets may not be such a struggle.

Maybe its time to watch Kick Ass again and start sewing a cape!

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Thomas Edison - 1894 Boxing cats

NYC Pillow Fight 2009

                          My second fightblog was somewhat political, now as promised I present Pillow!
I must say; I think this is pretty cool.
Who's with me, for an RRC pillow fight! Body one's acceptable!