amusing questions thing

This was going around facebook, and in answering it I went a different route; one that didn't involve an angsty description of my life (by answering truthfully). Feel free to repost, if you're feeling angsty, or if you realise you can do a much better job of being funny than me.

1. The phone rings. Who do you want it to be?
The UN, agreeing to my outrageous terms.

2. When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart?
No, that's what loyal minions in colour-coded jumpsuits are for.

3. In a social setting, are you more of a talker or a listener?
I give orders, they are followed, and the world trembles in fear.

5. Do You Play Sudoku?
Yes, with remote explosives and the pen-detonator from "Goldeneye".

6. If abandoned alone in the wilderness, would you survive?
Yes. The question is, would the wilderness?

8. Did you ever go to camp as a kid?
Never, I always dressed conservatively. And you misspelled "too".

9. What was your favorite game as a kid?
Pooh sticks with dynamite.

10. If a sexy person was pursuing you, but you knew he/she was married, would you?
My evil plans leave no time for such frivolities.

12. Could you date someone with different religious beliefs than you?
I could, but they'd end up in the pirahna tank if it became an issue.

13. Do you like to pursue or be pursued?
Oh I don't know which I love more... the thrill of chasing down some wretched snitch, or the thrill of escaping from hapless law enforcement agencies. I suppose they're both made more fun by the fact that I'm rather well armed and funded, and not above sacrificing hordes of underlings.

14. Use three words to describe you at the moment?
Incomparably superior human.

15. Do any songs make you cry?
The Bond theme used to, but not since I realised that stupid 00-agents play it on speakers every time as they approach, making them easy to get.

16. Are you continuing your education?
No need, since I already know everything.

18. If your house was on fire, what would be the first thing you grabbed?
A weapon, since I'd assume it was another SAS attack.

19. How often do you read books?
Never, I already have them all memorized.

20. Do you think more about the past, present or future?
The past is irrelevant, the present I already knew would happen, only the future is interesting.

22.What color are your eyes?
Mauve.

23. How tall are you?
two foot six, and tall with it.

24. Where is your dream house located?
In orbit, so I can observe all my territory.

27. Have you ever taken pictures in a photo booth?
Of every FBI agent who enters one.

28. When was the last time you were at Olive Garden?
I took my Director of Counter-intelligence there last week to explain in detail how his predecessor failed and was dealt with.

29. Why are tons of questions missing?
Classified.

30. Where was the furthest place you traveled today?
Svalbard, to destroy the new global seed-storage facility. Don't want any resistance movement to have access to a food source.

32. Do you like mustard?
Only in gas form.

33. Do you prefer to sleep or eat?
I require neither.

34. Do you look like your mom or dad?
I have neither.

35. How long does it take you in the shower?
28.62 seconds.

37. What movie do you want to see right now?
The next Bond movie, to see his plans.

39. What did you do for New Year's?
Dealt with underlings who wanted the day off, and oversaw completion of silo 4-B.

40. Do you think The Grudge was scary?
Who do you think that boy grew up to be?

42. Do you own a camera phone?
No, I communicate using telepathy.

44. Was your mom a cheerleader?
See above.

45. What's the last letter of your middle name?
'?'

47. How many hours of sleep do you get a night?
See above.

48. Do you like care bears?
I fought and destroyed them at the battle of Proxima Centauri. No-Heart continues to evade me.

49. What do you buy at the movies?
The theatre.

50. Do you know how to play poker?
How do you think I got so rich?

51.Do you wear your seatbelt?
Without fail.

52. What do you wear to sleep?
Recall how I do not require sleep.

53. Anything big ever happen in your hometown?
No, but pay attention on June 17th 2014.

54. How many meals do you eat a day?
See above.

55. Is your tongue pierced?
Daily.

56. Do you always read Facebook notes?
Telepathically.

58. Do you like funny or serious people better?
My army's motto is "Comedians Cause Casualties".

59. Ever been to L.A.?
Facility YH-15 is there, so once or twice a year.

60. Did you eat a cookie today?
No, again see above.

61. Do you use cuss words in other languages in the appropriate situations?
I do not require 'cuss words'.

62. Do you have a crush?
Yes, a few times a year; it's such a terrifying way to intimidate the remaining underlings.

63. Do you hate chocolate?
With a vehement passion.

64. What do you and your parents fight about the most?
See above.

65. Are you a gullible person?
I cannot be convinced of anything.

66. Do you need a boyfriend/girlfriend to be happy?
I require no happiness.

67. If you could have any job (assuming you have the skills) what would it be?
Supreme Emperor of Earth. And words like "if", "could", and "assuming" are unnecessary at this point.

68. Are you easy to get along with?
It is possible, although unlikely, that you'd survive an encounter with me.

69. What is your favorite time of day?
7am, when the previous day's captured secret agents are brought before me.

70. What should you be doing right now?
Preparing the serum for interrogation subject Gamma-8.

musical snobbery

This post wasn't supposed to be so long (this is a trend of the last few posts, possibly because of the greater time intervals between them). Whether you decide to read the entire snobbish mess is completely up to you, I make no apologies for length or content.

I realised a couple of things recently. One is that skiing is a decent metaphor for life: you have to be trying hard enough to fall fairly often if you want to learn anything, and confidence is everything. In both life and skiing, even feigning confidence can be enough to get through the steep bits. You might still crash and burn, or possibly die, but if you don't it's good fun.

The other thing I realised is that my complete disinterest in the lyrics of songs (with one or two exceptions) means that it can give people completely the wrong impression of me when I say what songs I like. I realised this when I was chatting with my officemate the other day about music. To my surprise she enjoys Slipknot and other metal artists (my itunes library is 90% metal); so I mentioned that I think their best song is "Metabolic," and she gave me a funny look and asked me what I thought of the lyrics. I had no idea what they were (for one thing they're all shouted/screamed) but it turns out it's pretty weird.

The first time I hear any song I really concentrate to hear the intervals and the timing, and I visualise playing it on a keyboard. If I like what I hear, I often go and do just that. It's actually really annoying that I can't just enjoy the music unless I have deciphered its structure and understand how it works. But sometimes music is way too complex for that, which is why I don't listen to classical or jazz very much, despite that I really enjoy such stuff. I also don't bother with pop, light rock, and other radio music, because the chords are all EABA and it's musically uninteresting. I feel that lyrics get in the way, unless they're sung and form an important melody or harmony line, but in that case they could just be 'aahs'.

So the stuff I most enjoy has unique chord usage, with complex timing. Here's a couple of examples of the power chords from stuff I'm listening to as I type this (click for bigger):

The main riff from "Decline" by Biohazard (M=120):
For some reason Musictime messed up the tie lines, but nevermind. This repeats 8 times.

Now the riff I enjoy from Metabolic, this also repeats 8 times (M=100):

Next a part of the song "Cleansed by Silence" by Ion Dissonance (a band from Montreal). They only play the riff twice, with shouting over the first time, and nothing (much better) over the second, I've written both out here. Musictime won't let me make that one 16th note bar any shorter (I probably should have made it two bars per line instead of three to spread out the notes more). There are more ways to write this than 5/4, 4/4, 1/16, but I think this way captures the feel most effectively. The fact that they tack on that extra 16th gives the riff a very stulted feel, but I like it. I've cut this section out and repeated it using "Audacity" to show how it would be if they did it more than once. The file is on putfile (link below - be warned it has a rather violent/loud style, but the lyrics aren't vulgar, just unintelligible).
Click here for my Cleansed by Silence chop-job

The Biohazard and Slipknot songs aren't actually in D, but in my mind I see everything in D because I don't have perfect pitch (doesn't matter so long as all the intervals (ratios) between notes are the same). Most of my own music is also in D (but can usually be transposed if people I'm jamming with would prefer another key).

You can see from that that I am a fan of very offbeat timing, often in unusual time signatures. I enjoy it in metal because chords can be chucked out with such disdain or irreverence, and I like to think of it as throwing it in the face of all the boring uninspired four-beat-four-chord bands out there. Chances are that offends just about everybody, because that sort of music is the most popular. However, remember I am talking about the timing and the chords, not lyrics or the general feel of a song. I have no concept of poetry, and don't even think Tool lyrics are interesting. But I love Tool; they are masters of 5/4, and use chord sequences like few others.

I also like chords and chord progressions that are unique. My 'favourite chord' is root + fifth + major second + major third + diminished fifth + major seventh. Here it is in G.I like this sound because few use it. Korn actually have some very interesting progressions and make good use of diminished fifth chords, particularly if the root (G, above) is the minor second of the key the piece is in (in this example resolve it to an F-sharp major, although that will be a lot prettier than anything by Korn). The diminished fifth is also called the tritone, and in the 1700s and 1800s the sound was called "diabolus in musica" (the devil in music) since it can sound dark and evil (my example there shows how this does not have to be so) so it's used by metal bands a lot. Slayer even named an album Diabolus in Musica, but few people get the reference. And yes, they make a lot of use of the tritone, but usually without the major third or the seventh, giving it a darker, dissonant sound.

Just for reference, my favourite classical piece is "Neptune" from the planets (Holst). It still sends shivers up my spine at one point (powerful chord with Ab+G+B+E). Stravinsky's "Rites of Spring, The Sacrifice" is good too.

So yeah, I am an incorrigible music snob. But if any of this strikes a chord with you (clang!), we should chat. And possibly jam.

dreams, scary and hilarious.

Hoi hoi, lowly mortals!

First I want to say to Michelle that I specifically said I felt conspicuously young, not that they seemed old to me. It's a maturity thing, rather than an age thing. But I will say that my comment about Calgary being cultureless is more to do with the lack of atmosphere around the city than a lack of culturally exciting events. Obviously there's more happening here, event-wise, but I'm talking more about the feel of the place. This city is composed primarily of highways and stripmalls. You (Michelle) are living in the core of Kensington; perhaps the most interesting place (atmospherically) to be in all the city. Maybe I'm confusing atmosphere with the feeling of community in Fton.

And yes, Shaggz, I am the lead vocalist for the pseudoband "Warthog". It goes well with both my position as "frontman", and with the fact that I can't sing.

It's been an interesting week, with the parents and sister visiting. We went skiing at Fernie, which was amazing on Saturday, and short-lived on Sunday as the soft/heavy melting snow is the likely cause for Mum's torn ACL. She may have to have reconstructive surgery, and cannot walk without a brace, or even drive. It's so ironic since she's by far the most cautious skier I know, yet also very experienced and skilled. Here I am throwing myself off near cliffs, and she messed up her leg avoiding a tumbling snowboarder on a green run. Mum has had no pain at all associated with this injury, however, which is really weird. She just cannot put any weight at all on her leg (it gives way immediately).

Since they left it's been a week of telecommuting, with all that implies. So now that I'm caught up on Top Gear, Lost, House, and My Name is Earl for the last couple of weeks, I can really get my head down and do some work tomorrow (Friday). Except that a birthday party I'm supposed to get trashed at starts at 2pm. I guess I won't go until 6 or 7 though; I enjoy playing catch-up.

Did I ever relate the tale of the dream I had five years ago that is still crystal clear in my memory? When I tell most people about it they joke (or do they?) that I should seek professional help. It was the summer I was in the field with Paul McNeill, and while in that remote desolate camp under the Saturday Glacier I had the most incredible, bizarre, and terrifying dreams of my life. The one in particular began simply enough: we were preparing to go into the field and needed some empty boxes/crates to put stuff in. Our search began at a hospital (obviously). Entry to the hospital was by a 45-degree glass elevator, not unlike the funicular in Québec City, however it went down from street level to the entrace, which would have been the second basement level.

Inside, the windowless concrete hallways were painted nursing-home green, and all the staff were (literally) faceless, 8 feet tall, and very menacing, wearing green hospital smocks. I entered a room to search it for boxes to steal. The room was a cube about six or seven metres to a side. It was unfinished concrete except for green padding covering the walls to about halfway up. There was no furniture, but there was a clock high on the wall, ticking backwards. There was one occupant. He was of indeterminate age and extremely frail, in a white hospital gown and with shaven head, he was huddled in the corner of this empty space, staring at nothing. With complete horror I realised that this was a hospital for the terminally ill, and the clock ticked backwards showing exactly how much time he had left. He was kept in this empty concrete cell (for that is what it was) by the enforcers, the cell was padded so he couldn't try to hurt himself by running into the walls, and worst of all, the only object in the room - the dreadful clock - was well out of reach so it couldn't be disabled.

Paul had found some first aid boxes and tipped out their contents so we could use them. We walked past the ghastly faceless enforcers, who only realised what we had done as we reached the elevator. They ran towards us as I hammered on the 'door close' button. It closed just in time, of course.

The next night, as I slept, we returned to that hospital for the medical supplies Paul had ditched, making this the only repeat dream I've ever had. Again we made it to the elevator just in time, but this time it stopped halfway up the track and started to go back down. Paul smashed a window (remember it was glass) and ran up the track and I followed. At the top was a decidedly more down-to-earth (and anti-climactic, in a way) scene, as two or three dozen cops demanded from behind their flashing cars, with guns drawn, that we lie down etc.

It ended there, but it's the cell that stays with me... and particularly that clock. No nightmare before or since has been so terrifying, even the one when I was five when my family was turned into skittles by a horrible machine. There are a hundred ways to analyse it if you're into dream interpretation, which I am not. I think it's about my own fear of death, which is something I never think about. However, it's hard to see what each element symbolises; the clock is clearly the countdown to the inevitable... what made it so frightening was that it actually knew the moment, and was unstoppably counting down to it. Am I the frail lonely patient, trapped in the cell with that clock? Who are the faceless enforcers? I'm thinking that the plot of 'me and Paul trying to prepare the field' is not relevant to the deeper meaning, since that's exactly what we'd been doing for the days before we flew in. But then again, what do I know.

I routinely get vivid dreams, often very plot-driven adventures, and usually involving protagonists and antagonists, the latter are generally frustratingly impossible to overcome. I only have one experience with dream interpretation. Once a lady from the church of a girl I dated tried to interpret some of my dreams as "God dreams". I did not relate the above dream, but a comical one I had had the previous night, which was Star Wars based and involved me flying around a city with kilometre-height buildings suspended in the sky, on a flying bicycle. I went down to a lower level for lunch, and while I ate Luke Skywalker stole my bike and flew away upwards. I found an elevator to follow him up, and saw a hovering platform full of stormtroopers. I slaughtered them all of them mercilessly with some sort of blaster gun (I left that bit out of my description to this woman) and got on the platform. Then Luke showed up on my bike to congratulate me on taking out the stormtroopers. Without a word I shoved him off the platform for stealing my bike. He fell several kilometres to his death. Bastard.

Anyway she apparently did not know much about Star Wars because she decided that Luke represented the devil, the bike represented Jesus, and the city represented Heaven. I neglected to ask what it meant that Satan was riding Jesus around Heaven. I personally believe that my life over the preceeding days, which involved getting my bike seat stolen, and playing a lot of Jedi Knight II, was the real inspiration for the dream. I also believe that the dream was inherently hilarious. All I know for certain is that it felt really good to shove that annoying whining pansy off that platform to a horrible death.

I haven't had any memorable ones lately, fieldwork often triggers them, though. We'll see in the summer.

Cheers for now.