Danse du Jour

I've linked to today's dance clip a few months back, but I think it's worth showcasing again. These are excerpts from The False David by butoh performer Imre Thormann. I'm impressed by his strength and utter control, both of gross motor movements and tiny, precise facial expressions. Ugliness is beautiful, too.

Watch on YouTube

I've Got My Sprite, I've Got My Orange Crush

For the past few nights, I've been having dreams about the old family truck. In one dream, I'm cooped up in the truck during an enormous wind storm. The wind has picked up to ridiculous speeds, but for some reason, the truck doesn't blow away. But the wind is so strong that the metal in the doors is beginning to peel away like the lid of a sardine tin.

I still remember when we bought the truck. It was 1978, I think. My Mom walked into the Chevrolet dealership and was talking with a salesman he abandoned us to go talk to a rich-looking fellow.

The owner came up to us, and Mom proceeded to buy the most expensive vehicle on the lot in cash. The man who looked like he shit gold bricks didn't buy anything. I'll bet the salesman kicked himself royally over that one.

The truck was a 3/4 tonne orange pick-up with a crew cab and extra-long box. We needed a big honking vehicle because we were farmers. We'd transport anything from hay to piglets in burlap sacks. And with the long, regular commutes to the city and a couple of coast to coast trips, it felt like I lived in the truck. We carried our home on the truck. While travelling across the country and British Columbia, we lived either out of a camper or, later, a 31' fifth wheeler.

When you live with three other people and several pets in a travel trailer, you take your privacy where you can. The truck served as my office, at times, and I'd do my homework or read books in the back seat.

The truck was also part of my own personal playground. I remember practicing balancing by lying on my back across the back of the front seat. I practiced backbends across the same seat, too. I also used to put a ladder up to the box, and trained my dog Buoy to run up the ladder when I yelled "Fire!" I trained my pets to do all sorts of weird things....

I named the truck Orange Crush because of the roadkills. Many a frog/bug/bird succumbed to the juggernaut that was the orange Chevy. A few dogs launched themselves in front of the truck in suicidal attempts at car chasing, too. We hit a rooster, once, and the farmer's son ran out with an axe to finish the job. They had roast chicken for supper that night. I'm not sure, but I think Orange Crush may have been the same vehicle which hit my school bus driver's daughter. The kid was Kim White, and she was sledding across the road on a blind turn. As we came around the turn, there was no chance of stopping. Kim was lucky. She grazed her head on the wheel and only had a minor concussion.

After more than twenty years of heavy use, the truck was finally consigned to the junk yard only a couple of years ago. The odometer had looped three times (I think it was almost to its fourth go-round).

Fillings. O Woe Woe, Fillings

I had two fillings today, and need to go back for FIVE more. I also have to get a sleep guard, as I'm destroying the fuck out of my teeth with my night time grinding. I've worn all the enamel off my teeth and have broken a couple of fillings/teeth with my nocturnal mastication. Argh!

To make matters more interesting, I had to take out my nose ring for the x-rays, and now I can't get it back in. Every time I try, when it starts to hurt, I start to brown out. Apparently I'm a total wuss when it comes to re-inserting my nose screw. Why does this make me verge on fainting? That's just whacked.

Ah well. Look at some links.

Behavior May Suggest We're Not Only Human: People share a lot of common behavioural patterns with "lower" animals. Who's surprised? Not me. You and me baby ain't nothing but mammals, so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel....

Men enter hip circles: An article on male belly dancers in Canada spotlighting Valizan (my dance bud!) and Viraj (my partner for the tahtiib workshop a few months back).

Extraordinarily NSFW: Kids, don't try this at home. And please, don't keep me in suspense, either.

Free Yrrwe Zsuzyrrwe Albums: I was a big fan of Yrrwe Zsuzyrrwe back when I was music director of CHSR. If you like industrial noise, give 'em a listen.

Rabbit Poo: Probably NSFW. Random. Just positively random (thanks, balthcat).

Smelly feet? Here's a pad Two Malaysian salesmen are promoting alternative uses for women's sanitary pads: Sure. Why not?

Infants are able to detect the 'impossible' at an early age: Even little babies can appreciate the works of Escher.

A jumbo tusk for scientists: Probably the worst news pun I've seen in a while, this article talks about the dangers of artificial insemination among the pachyderm set.

Tree Spirit: NSFW. Naked people and trees make for interesting photos. I think it sometimes looks like the tree has massacred a nudist colony, but what do I know?

Nick Brandt: Gorgeous savannah photography. My favourite is the first one of the dusty elephant.

I Am Trying to Break your Heart: This deep-fried, bacon-wrapped, cheese-stuffed hotdog recipe is probably close to the Krispy Kreme burger in healthful benefits.

That'll do. The freezing's wearing off my tooth, and making me cranky.