Food.

**Note the wicked misspell on the URL. And these are all over Kingston. Dan, you're a genius.


2nd post of 2010 - 2 in a day. Sweet.

Road Tripped.

Once upon a time, I came upon a hat - a Quicksilver Fedora. My friend Dustin had given it to me, cause he was moving away and didn't want it. I wrote his name in it. I threw some pins on it**. I wore it. My buddy Alan & I threw it back and forth. We penned our names in it.

And then I was moving - so I passed my hat on to my friend Omar who traveled out to Canmore, Alberta wearing it. He said he'd passed it on from there...

Where the hat is, who knows?

I long for the freedom of the hat - to be able to road trip all of its life - see a million things, experience a million more.



Dustin Hermiston
Dan Tait
Alan Weir
Omar Sadoon
...?


**The Pins: Canadian Indie Groups Hey Rosetta & The Golden Dogs, and The Wu-Tang Clan

Warning - Disturbing

This needs to be seen.

This is pretty eye-opening - but it's quite disturbing.

"Fair warning: Extremely disturbing, even if you're used to watching police brutality videos. Please disseminate widely, as it's the only way these types of things get seen. All those articles where you read "police arrest 63, clash with protestors"...well this is the clash they're talking about. And those young kids getting dragged off one by one from the sides and beaten are the people they're "clashing with" and need to be arrested. Oh, and in case it isn't clear why the police are so iron-fisted, they're trying to get a busload of politicians down the street. So now you tell me, who do the police protect?"



Thanks to Nick Lobe for sending me this. Please, look it up. Read on it. If nothing else, it gives you new light on those 'Protesters Clashing With Police'. These kids weren't a militia group - it was a peaceful protest.

Our freedom as humans has been comprimised - maybe we don't feel it individually, but it's things like this going on all over the world that stifle our growth and our freedom.

The wind in your sails...

The wind in your sails
Won't take us much further.
All the scuppers and tags,
Only end up to hurt hurt.

All the bear's insides
Have fallen to pieces.
And the engine ride,
Slowly decreases....

And as the sun comes up over frosted trees,
Alon I breath strength - you are with me.
Count the cars going by - hear my feet cruch,
Time is running out for me, I been passed the conch...

Another Promo Photo...

On a day when the sky screams to the earth,
In colour's infra-red glow.

The tiny monsters go here and all over,
Scarring in each single step.

The fires below bellow in harmony,
With it's enlightened sister.

And all the innocents can't understand,
As their world is torn apart.

And the medicine they sedate it with,
Grinds - piercing into the soul.

Extract the necessary resources,
For selfish need is what drives.

One day the fires will engulf all of us,
And our shield laid 'front our feet.

In a hazy scream which we couldn't catch,
Though we had the pow'r to.

She is awake and full of vengeful zeal,
Slumber disturbed by so many.

How I Wish I Was In Pembroke Now...

Oh the year was twenty-zero nine,
How I wish I was in Pembroke now...
A letter goodwill came from the folks,
To the solemnest soul that ever spoke -

God damn them all, I was free,
We'd cruise the world climbing trees,
We'd fire no guns - shed no tears,
But I'm a broken man on Kingston beers,
The displaced Pembroke Privateer...

I toast 'em all.