Viral Video

This is the beginning of what will most likely be many posts along this line. A good friend of mine showed me this series about a year ago and I have been following it religiously ever since. I can't vouch for everything he's ever done, but here's his latest.

And now begins your crush on Brett Erlrich.

Mumford

"Love that will not betray you, dismay or enslave you, it will set you free. Be more like the man you were made to be."

I like music. I like it a lot. I’m also a bit of a music whore. I go through about six or seven bands a week, taking them in, embracing them, and then leaving them to out to dry with a sad play-count of a mere 1 or 2. Hence why I have a music collection of over 10,000 songs. Hence why it is on my life list to ensure that I listen to every single one of those songs and give them a fair chance. I have this strange, instinctual need to give every album, no matter how embarrassing, a fair trial. I can’t just get one song, I need to get the entire album because you never know when you’re going to find a hidden treasure that will make your next mixtape brilliant. It is a curse and a blessing.

I give you all that background to show you how impressive it is when a band stops me in my musical tracks and gets me to listen to it for more than a week on repeat. Or, in this case, almost four months now. Mumford and Sons has beat out falsetto-singing Icelandic men and Irish-pop rock ballads to secure a place as my favourite band of all time*. I know that’s a brave thing to say considering we’ve only known each for a total of 6 months, but when you know, you know, and I think this is a step we are ready to take.

Why you ask? Well, I present: Ten Reasons Why You Should Lend Your Heart to Mumford and Sons:

1. Phenomenal banjo skills. That’s really enough to end the list right here.

2. Their band has its own coat of arms, and that coat of arms has a lion on it.

3. Powerful builds. I will always be a sucker for a good build and they do not disappoint.

4. Their lead singers name is Marcus Mumford. How deliciously alliterative is that?

5. In their concerts, each member of the band alternates moving around to different instruments because they are that cool.

6. They’re associated with Laura Marling and Noah and the Whale

7. Their album “Sigh No More” has been on Canadian Itunes’ Top 10 Charting Albums for months now. I check that list on a daily basis and I have never seen an album on there as long as this one.

8. They quote Shakespeare and Steinback in their lyrics.

9. They have one of the cutest most addictive engagement songs ever written called “She Said Yes”. Note, do not listen to this song if you are about to go into a final: you will not be able to get it out of your head.

10. Their lyrics are so awesome that there are hundreds of forums on their website of people discussing them.
Mumford and Sons wins my heart for many reasons, but what sets them apart for me is their lyrics. It is rare for a secular band with no claims to religion to sing out lines that have impacted my faith a lot more than most Christian bands ever could. The Parental Advisory sticker may have you leaning away from them, but, blame my intrinsic need to rebel, that makes me love them all the more. Raw is the best word to describe it. Here are some of their lyrics from their song “Roll Away Your Stone”:

“Cause you told me that I would find a hole.
Within the fragile substance of my soul
And I have filled this void with things unreal,
And all the while my character it steals
Darkness is a harsh term don’t you think?
And yet it dominates the things I see
It seems that all my bridges have been burned,
But you say that’s exactly how this grace thing works
It’s not the long walk home that will change this heart,
But the welcome I receive with the restart”

Their songs “The Cave”, “Sigh No More”, and “Awake My Soul” are just a few more examples of beautifully written lyrics that are powerful and strikingly relevant. I know it’s silly to review a band that I’m pretty sure anyone reading this has already heard of, but I just can’t help myself. Normally, the more popular a band becomes the less attractive they are due to my conformist need to be indie, but, in this case, I entirely embrace their well-knownedness. They are just that good that everyone should know about them. Their lyrics defined my summer in many ways and will continue to alter and affect me as I find more and more of their stuff. They are nominated for a Best New Artist Grammy this year and the saddest thing is that the probably won’t win seeing as they’re up against Justin Beiber (as well as Florence and the Machine, who is, at least, a worthy opponent). But still, I will hold on hope and take solace in the fact that they made Best New Artist in my heart (feel free to groan) and have managed to secure a permanent appearance on my Top 25 Most Played playlist.

Hold On To What You Believe - Mumford and Sons

*This rank may be subject to change.

Life List Commentary Numero One

Those of you who know me know that I love lists: this is not a secret fact. Honestly it doesn’t even matter what is on the list, just as long as it is there and I can read it, I will most likely love it. Bonus points if I actually get to cross something off on it. I have thrown out hundreds of papers filled with lists that I wrote down for the sole purpose of crossing each item off to feel that euphoric sense of accomplishment. For those of you who get this feeling, I don’t need to explain it, and for those of you who don’t, my words won’t change that. I have wasted countless hours reading every single Best of/Worst of list on the internet. Lists are the reason that my sisters could sucker me in to watching the Pre-Oscar Red Carpet commentaries and they are also the reason why I am desperate to see the nominations of any award show ever. December is one of my favourite months because the Internet is flooded with lists that simplifying the year into that orderly formation of 1 to 10.

Yet, I’ve still never really liked David Letterman. Strange.

Now enter the Life List. I started this list some time around Grade 9. It began with a small to do list that eventually evolved into what is now a living, breathing record of my life. Some people say that lists are binding and limiting, but for me this thing is freeing. I control it and it guides me, really just a win win win situation all around. It has changed quite a lot over the years and I have found different versions of it scattered throughout all my different journals and writings, and it will continue to grow and alter as the years change. I used to feel guilty about adding or removing things but I realized that that’s not really the point. The point is for me to remember things that I have been passionate about and to attempt to incorporate them into my life as best I can. I try to be working towards at least one item on the list at any given time and there are few things better in this world than getting that oh-so-satisfying feeling of placing a profound, thick line through each word.

My latest accomplishment on this list has been present since my original list in Gr. 9 and has been a dream of mine ever since: to conduct a band. As many of you know I am working towards my Bachelor of Education degree and I got to experience my first practicum this year. I was placed with a teacher who taught Zoology, Science, Sports Enrichment, and Japanese, all classes that I am very passionate about. Not! (Though I definitely did gain a new appreciation for Japanese. And I can say I now know how to dissect anything from a pregnant frog to a rabbit to a crayfish. But still, these are not my passions.) Hours of science classes drove me to seek out the music department at the school and ask if they needed any help. To my great surprise the band director not only let me play with his band but immediately agreed to allow me to conduct one of the pieces in the Christmas concert. Pretty trusting considering he did not even ask me whether I have any conducting experience at all (which, frankly, I don’t, unless you count the numerous hours I have spent waving my imaginary baton in the air to the blaring sounds of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture since the ripe old age of 4).

Skip forward three months. After lots of overtime practice hours, plenty of daily air conducting, and tons of stifled nerves, I found myself walking up to the platform to conduct a soothing rendition of Silver Bells. I had a plan.

Step 1: Don’t trip going up to the stage.

Step 2: Don’t start at the wrong tempo.

Step 3: Smile

Step 4: Don’t drop the baton.

Step 5: End at the same time.

Step 6: Don’t trip getting off the stage.

As long as I could master those six things, I was good to go. And, to my great relief, I did. It wasn’t the Philharmonic Orchestra and it wasn’t the Apollo Theater (really it was quite the opposite) but it was cool and something I’ve wanted to do ever since my father gave me my first air baton (yup, he was there right beside me conducting the final crescendo of the overture). And, with the way things are looking with my Music minor potentially down the drain (due to lame registration timings) it may be the first and last opportunity I ever get, which makes it that much more special.

So here’s to placing a solid, fulfilling line through #28: Conduct a Band.

To end, I leave you with an uncannily accurate portrayal of Little Michael (I blame it on the uniformity of mushroom cuts.) PS: If you don’t want to watch the whole thing you get the main gist after the first minute.

Also, while writing this post I’ve been listening to the 1812 Overture over and over again. If you have not actually heard this song (or at least the finale), then listen to it here, and I dare you not to raise your hands in triumphant conducting glory.

Special thanks to Sarah V and her mom for the pics.

New Beginning

So here lies my blog, a site that, in its heyday, was a raucous-house of parties and good times. Where there were people laughing, they were laughing on this blog. Where there were children dancing, they were dancing on this blog. Where there were gifts of euphoria and exuberance to be given into unexpecting and overjoyed hands, they were given right here on this blog.

But it’s sad now really, because those days are gone. I’ve decided that perhaps I’ve matured past my old self who needed to fulfill his teenage angst-filled desires by having a secret (/not-so-secret) blog, which he could choose to reveal at the perfect moment to those who were truly deserved of witnessing his soul. For years I was so excited that I had this confidential blog that no one else knew about that was harbouring so many of my fears and dreams and that one day, with the single click of a mouse, I could reveal my heart completely to someone. It would be magical and romantic even and so perfectly Hollywood and

Lame. Secret blogs suck. Plus the entire concept of a “secret blog” is pretty oxymoronic since, technically, there’s nothing secretive about the World Wide Web. Also, it I sucked at keeping it a secret, considering I’m pretty sure I posted the URL on Facebook at one point. Still, despite the fact that it was hosted on a device that is accessible to 90% of the population of the world (aka the Internet), I’m pretty sure that my blog was viewed by approximately six people, three of which I’m pretty sure only read the first page. One of them was apparently someone from India though, so that’s pretty exciting.

All that to say: I think I’m going to start blogging… again… but for realz this time. Why? Three reasons, which I have compiled for you in a neat, compact list (a theme which you will most likely find recurring quite frequently in this blog):

1. I had an epiphany after my latest paper-writing stint which found me locked in the university library for a consecutive 24 hours to finish two papers due the next day. Mono-filled Kleenexes strewn out on the floor, Subway extracts to my right and lefts, papers sprinkled over the span of the entire desk, clothes bundled throughout the room particularly in the far corner designated for 20 minute catnaps, you get the picture. As my fingers began to numb during my third editing run-through, I was forced to stop and ask the question that every student asks themselves on a daily basis, whether consciously or not, and that is, “Why am I doing this to myself?” And the answer, to my deranged disgust and glee? I kinda like it. I kinda really sorta like writing a lot. Even if it means putting myself through a type of literaturistic-hell just to meet a deadline, then so be it. I love to write and I want to do more of it, so why not do it in a place where I can write what I want to write about, with the added bonus that there will be slightly more accountability to keep it going than there is from my journal that is currently gathering dust on my desk.
2. I suck at responding. It is not one of my gifts. God did not grant me the ability to read an email and reply to it in a prompt, precise manner. I wish He did, but it’s just not so. There are many people in my life who have unfortunately poured their hearts out into virtual print and mailed it to me with the hopes of hearing words of wit, encouragement, and mutual updates in return, only to receive the sweet, silent echoes of a vacant inbox reverberating back at them. I apologize for this, and I promise I am working on it. Honest. For the record though, my standard has always been that, while my responses are rarely timely, what they lack in punctuality they make up for in scale. I go big. You’ll learn that soon.  For those of you who are still expecting updates from me as to where I’m living or what I’m up to, hopefully this blog will serve as band-aid on your virtual heart for the time being.
3. I need to get over myself a little bit. I was scared of blogging because it is a commitment that thousands of people make every day, and then fail at every other day. Who am I to think that I have something that is deserving of other people to read? What if I can’t keep it up? What if it turns out that I am a terrible writer? Well, like I said, I need to get over myself a little bit. It is not the New York Times. It is not the be-all and end-all of modern literature. It is not the psychoanalysis of my ability to commit or succeed at anything in life. It is a blog, a word that is apparently so meaningless that my spellcheck does not even currently register it as legitimate. So, with the nudging and encouragement of my friends and fellow bloggers (see list on side), here I am.

So there’s my reasoning. That, and why-the-heck-not? (ALWAYS a good argument.) I have been attempting to restart this blog for a while and have been hinting at it with many of my friends. One thing that stopped me was that last poem. Honestly that was the last poem I’ve written and I wrote it over a year ago. When I wrote it, it meant a lot to me and then the worst thing that can happen to a writer happened: I lost it. Nothing disheartens me more than having to rewrite something that I’ve written. Thankfully, randomly, miraculously I stumbled upon it last month and it was like reopening a door that I honestly thought I had shut for good. It was cool the timing of it and I wanted to make sure I posted it before I officially began anew.

So continuing on looking towards the future, just as with my email responses, I will try to set a standard here on this blog (yes, in list form. You might as well get used to it now):

1. I will try not to post anything that I’ve written after 2am (such as this very post) without editing it/completely re-writing it the next day.
2.  I will attempt not to rant. Ranting is fun and sometimes necessary, but generally not that good of a read. I will do it, I can pretty much guarantee it. I’ll just try to do it… well? Umm… considerately. I will attempt to be a considerate ranter.
3. I will update you on what I’m reading/watching/listening to as best I can.
4. I will try to update often. That’s the doozy right there. Anyone who has attempted blogging before knows how hard it is to post frequently and I am very aware that it’s not an easy task. I will try. I will fail. You will forgive me (I hope). I will try some more.
5. I will not take myself, or this blog, too seriously.
6. I will be posting a sufficiently less amount of poems. This blog was begun with the intention of posting my poems but that phase of my life has passed and this blog has undergone some serious renovation. I can’t say I won’t ever post a poem again, but it will certainly become much more of a rarity.
7. I will want to have consistent catchy themes like “Wild Word Wednesday” or “Philosopher’s Freakout Fridays” but I will try to resist. Though I’ll still have some, let’s be serious.
8. I will wing it, for the most part.
9. I will attempt not to make all my posts this long.

So there you have it, the ground settings. The Blogger’s Vow. My pledge will change and alter, just like my life list (which is featured on the right side of this blog and will most likely be the topic of conversation many times), but hopefully they will grow towards a better site for your viewing pleasure.

Disclaimer: I am well aware that literaturistic is not a word. I also know that the terms “catnap” and “doozy” are archaic and somewhat revolting. I am aware that my grammar may not be perfect: this is my blog, not my English assignment. Please do not hold the fact that I am an English major against me.  That being said, if you notice a blindingly obvious grammar/spelling mistake, please inform me, just… be kind :)

So anyway, here’s to being here. Here’s to life being interesting, words being inspiring, and clichés being the light that guides me home. I feel like I need a good signoff now, so I will leave you with the words of my first-ever recorded journal entry written at the ripe old age of 8:

“I don’t have much to say because the day was so boring. So I end the day with a slow good-bye dear journal. Verse of the day: Be glad for what you have.”

Gems of a future writer, friends. Gems.

Camino

With hooded faces we puddle along

‘Gainst the torrent around we rebel

We march in pattern to a silent song

We tromp to the beat of the knell

Recluse, we have become one body

We trudge on in infinite lines

We tread by road, over bridge, through valley

‘Neath the buzzing of blurred neon signs

Rain has melded our personal fates

We are waves on a winding track

Known only by the tone of our gaits

(labeled by the size of our packs)

Nature leaves us to our crumbled land

A seed thrown among the rocks

“Well what can we do?” asks the old Spanish man

What can we do? We walk.