SOUNDS

The Only Song I Ever Shazammed Behind The Wheel

Yeah, you read that right. In my defense, I was travelling on a country road off the main highway where eighteen-wheelers dare not tread and is generally not considered an important economic artery by any stretch (I could’ve just taken the highway to the beach, but where’s the fun in that?). At that particular hour there were no other vehicles in sight, the only sign of non-corvine motile life being the swarm of flies I saw laying their eggs on that dead skunk a few clicks back. So I figured I could probably get away with slowing the vehicle down to a near-stop for the five seconds it would take to unlock my phone and hit the big Shazam button.

Greatest. Invention. Ever.

That song playing on the radio was one I’d never heard before. Couldn’t put my finger on what it was about it that piqued my interest. Perhaps it was the atmospheric quasi-Harrisonian chord progression, or the harmonic interplay between the guitar and vocal lines, or the artful use of what initially sounded to me like the choir setting on a synth (but was probably just plain ol’ backup vocals) towards the end. It certainly wasn’t the main hook, which sounded like an afterthought in the songwriting process, like something one of the band members let his five-year-old kid have a go at writing because he had no more fucks left to give. The inappropriate Frankie Valli impression employed by the lead singer during said hook only increased its Whiskey Tango Foxtrot quotient. But I still had to know what that song was in spite of its warts, and had precious little faith in the likelihood of the on-air talent’s announcement of such after the song was over.

I wouldn’t find out what the song was until after I arrived at the beach, as there was no cellular service in the area I was in when I initially Shazammed it. But once the result came in, it turned out to be an evidently lesser-known hit from a Vancouver quintet I’ve heard of. A band that broke up well before I started growing hair on my nether regions, yet seems to get a significant amount of airplay on this station in particular. Mere days ago I became aware of the fact that the drummer of said band has been dealing with some unfortunate medical issues lately. Not sure if that’s the reasoning, or merely because the program director is a fanboy.


SIGHTS

Is The New World Rising from the Shambles Of The Old?

Last October I constructed a scarecrow-like entity for the annual sacrifice to the autumn sun. An effigy of myself constructed of dry foliage and old clothes and a couple of pruned branches held together with twine, to serve as a physical personification of everything I would like to lose in the coming year. Just for shits and giggles, I used a cardboard cutout of Jason Kenney for its face.

Idolizing any politician is a bit like believing the stripper really likes you.
If this offends you, see caption to the previous image.
You can see a shades-donning Grinch in the flames if you know where to look.

A few weeks ago I revisited the site where this sacrifice occurred, and saw that it had begat new life. It was probably just the THC, but a small part of me was briefly tempted to conclude that the shit Jason Kenney has for brains added more nutrients to the soil.

To everything there is a season. Turn, turn, turn.

SIGHTS

The Charmin Bears Would Not Be Amused

I was originally going to use my shiny new TikTok account as a showcase for my spontaneous poetry, but that concept lasted only for the first couple of videos. The more abstract and avant-garde creations of mine elicit more of a reaction from the Internet-surfing public, from the looks of things. Creations that will presumably become even trippier now that I’ve acquired Premiere as part of a bundle package with Photoshop. Had to do some tinkering around with the graphics card to get Premiere to work properly on Windows 11, but before long I had churned out the maiden GIF. I found myself promptly deactivating that Creative Cloud portal/updater doohickey that Adobe always installs on your machine when you buy one of these programs, though. That thing’s just a RAM whore. Mostly useless to boot.

On a completely unrelated note, this particular location has never had toilet paper. Ever. If you go number two, you must wipe your ass against the trees like the bears do it. But the beach is lovely.