Come on in, still beautiful and the fire is still low. Some nice corned beef and rye bread available for some sandwiches. Garlic pickles too.
So let me explain something I hate. I hate take home exams. Do you want to know why I hate them? Because they're way more work than just going in and sitting down and writing a 3 hour exam. Well for me they're way more work. Let me explain.
I review constantly. When I leave a classroom, I think about what was discussed. I then get home and review my notes and compare it to the text book reading. You see I'm usually done all my reading, first run through at least, by the third week of the semester. I then start casually re-reading so I can identify things I have heard in lectures or things I might want to write about. Then once a week I go over my notes and readings, and ask myself questions about what gaps are in the knowledge. I usually email my professor or talk to them about these gaps and get suggestions on further reading, as well as do some casual research to find more info to fill in those gaps. Once a month I do a couple hour review that helps me link all this stuff together.
I work my butt off during the semester so that when it comes time for finals to happen, I can sit down and write for three hours and walk out knowing I've learned something and have been able to demonstrate it as well. So it pisses me off when I get a take home exam.
Because everyone always votes for a take home exam. Because it means they get to slack off and just do a research paper for the final. So because 99% of the other students want to be slackass fucktards, I have to now do another research paper?! Fuck you lazy cumstains. And to top it off, so I can pay rent I have to go back to work immediately and only take off the days for finals. So on these days off, rather than having a bit of a relax, writing a paper, and getting back to normal I have to spend it writing a fucking goddamn research paper!!
So it pisses me off. Fucking lazy shitheads.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Tag!
Come on in, the fire is low and the skins are taken right down. The air is so gorgeous out right now, can't imagine wanting anything but to sleep outside in it tonight.
So I watched the Little Crow play tag last night. I just about split a gut laughing at her frenzied antics and drama laden shrieks. Actual dialogue.
Little Crow: I'm it? I don't want to be it.
Coyote: Well honey, tag someone else and you won't be it.
Little Crow: Oh. (runs up and tags her sister who wasn't playing) You're it!
Little Bear: I'm not playing!
Little Crow: You weren't playing, 'til I tagged you! (sprints away, arms flailing in the air) Run for your LIFE!!!!!
I just about peed.
So I watched the Little Crow play tag last night. I just about split a gut laughing at her frenzied antics and drama laden shrieks. Actual dialogue.
Little Crow: I'm it? I don't want to be it.
Coyote: Well honey, tag someone else and you won't be it.
Little Crow: Oh. (runs up and tags her sister who wasn't playing) You're it!
Little Bear: I'm not playing!
Little Crow: You weren't playing, 'til I tagged you! (sprints away, arms flailing in the air) Run for your LIFE!!!!!
I just about peed.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Time slips
Come on in and take a quick seat. This is just a random thought bouncing around as I sit in the den and finish off another semester.
So my Little Bear is a teen, 14, and of those 14 or so years, only about 5 months of her life have not been spent living with me. And it bothers me.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not much of a sentimentalist, I don't long for the good old days, or wish my children were small again. I find a wonderful joy in each new day as things change. So why do those missing months bother me?
Well because three of them came at a very early age when my ex-wife left and took Little Bear with her. She left being a little baby who still breast fed and while she walked a bit was not entirely mobile, to a toddler who spoke (admittedly not much) and could feed herself.
I can never have those three months back, I can never know what she was like during that time. And I covet that time others had with her because she is so incredible.
Dunno if there is a point here. Sometimes the only point we need is the tops of our heads.
So my Little Bear is a teen, 14, and of those 14 or so years, only about 5 months of her life have not been spent living with me. And it bothers me.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not much of a sentimentalist, I don't long for the good old days, or wish my children were small again. I find a wonderful joy in each new day as things change. So why do those missing months bother me?
Well because three of them came at a very early age when my ex-wife left and took Little Bear with her. She left being a little baby who still breast fed and while she walked a bit was not entirely mobile, to a toddler who spoke (admittedly not much) and could feed herself.
I can never have those three months back, I can never know what she was like during that time. And I covet that time others had with her because she is so incredible.
Dunno if there is a point here. Sometimes the only point we need is the tops of our heads.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
An apology
Come on in. I know it's raining but I've thrown back the skins to get as much clean new air into the den as possible. I love thunderstorms. The tend to get me all riled up, filled with the energy of the storm.
So I know I'm not a big fan of apologies. I find them useless for the most part. But there are some times when someone has to step up and say what has not been said and give a clear accounting of themselves. As such, I wish to clarify something about the debacle at the FNUC.
You see, we screwed up. By we I mean First Nations people. For far too long we have allowed our leaders to practice unfettered greed and personal power to our detriment. We sat by passively and allowed others to tell us what we should do and then did nothing ourselves. We were apparently satisfied with the status quo, hoping that someone would come along and fix it.
Well they did. They fixed it so we may end up losing a great institution. The provincial and federal governments came in and took away our funding because it was being abused. And they had good reason to.
So to the rest of Canada, since no one else will say it, I say we're sorry for fucking up. We're going to try to do better, and expect no one to recognize that until it is done. We fucked up and we're sorry.
On a related note, and possibly more sarcastic and inflamitory, I'd like to apologize for a few other things.
We are sorry, that as a people who have been subjected to a hundred years of genocide, that we are downtrodden and used to being abused to the point that we accept any abuse, even those from our own people.
We are sorry that as a part of that genocide you took our children, people who are now adults and in positions of leadership, and stole their identity. You made them into copies of your culture yet rejected from that structure so they had nothing to tie themselves to. They are forced into a mindset lacking any moral grounding and can do nothing but satisfy their own base needs.
We are sorry that as a part of this stealing of our culture and history we now have a generational gap that must be overcome and with the few elders left, our young men and women are having to relearn their culture and become proper members of their community.
We are sorry that Canada has to wait while we overcome the difficulties of repairing our culture after various acts of genocide. We respect that patience is not always there and as such we may just do things our way and make others wait while we figure this out for ourselves.
We are sorry that we cannot take your examples of civilization because all we have been introduced to are the elements that have tried to destroy us and as such we find your civilization questionable.
We are sorry that we have given Canada such a shameful history and black eye in the international community, one that Canada hides on a constant basis, by not laying down and dying under your efforts of genocide. We should have told you at the outset that adaptation and survival are the two biggest imperatives of our various cultures and histories and that eventually we would figure out how to get by despite Canada's attempt to destroy us.
And finally I, as an individual who identifies as a half breed, am very sorry that I must be the one to point out the mistakes on both sides. I know I don't get to stand with either side, instead I must stay out here with the rest of the outcasts, and try to get either side to listen. I leave you with a poem.
Song of the Breed
by Carroll Arnett/Gogisgi
Don't offend
the fullbloods,
don't offend
the whites,
stand there in
the middle
of the god-
damned road
and get hit.
So I know I'm not a big fan of apologies. I find them useless for the most part. But there are some times when someone has to step up and say what has not been said and give a clear accounting of themselves. As such, I wish to clarify something about the debacle at the FNUC.
You see, we screwed up. By we I mean First Nations people. For far too long we have allowed our leaders to practice unfettered greed and personal power to our detriment. We sat by passively and allowed others to tell us what we should do and then did nothing ourselves. We were apparently satisfied with the status quo, hoping that someone would come along and fix it.
Well they did. They fixed it so we may end up losing a great institution. The provincial and federal governments came in and took away our funding because it was being abused. And they had good reason to.
So to the rest of Canada, since no one else will say it, I say we're sorry for fucking up. We're going to try to do better, and expect no one to recognize that until it is done. We fucked up and we're sorry.
On a related note, and possibly more sarcastic and inflamitory, I'd like to apologize for a few other things.
We are sorry, that as a people who have been subjected to a hundred years of genocide, that we are downtrodden and used to being abused to the point that we accept any abuse, even those from our own people.
We are sorry that as a part of that genocide you took our children, people who are now adults and in positions of leadership, and stole their identity. You made them into copies of your culture yet rejected from that structure so they had nothing to tie themselves to. They are forced into a mindset lacking any moral grounding and can do nothing but satisfy their own base needs.
We are sorry that as a part of this stealing of our culture and history we now have a generational gap that must be overcome and with the few elders left, our young men and women are having to relearn their culture and become proper members of their community.
We are sorry that Canada has to wait while we overcome the difficulties of repairing our culture after various acts of genocide. We respect that patience is not always there and as such we may just do things our way and make others wait while we figure this out for ourselves.
We are sorry that we cannot take your examples of civilization because all we have been introduced to are the elements that have tried to destroy us and as such we find your civilization questionable.
We are sorry that we have given Canada such a shameful history and black eye in the international community, one that Canada hides on a constant basis, by not laying down and dying under your efforts of genocide. We should have told you at the outset that adaptation and survival are the two biggest imperatives of our various cultures and histories and that eventually we would figure out how to get by despite Canada's attempt to destroy us.
And finally I, as an individual who identifies as a half breed, am very sorry that I must be the one to point out the mistakes on both sides. I know I don't get to stand with either side, instead I must stay out here with the rest of the outcasts, and try to get either side to listen. I leave you with a poem.
Song of the Breed
by Carroll Arnett/Gogisgi
Don't offend
the fullbloods,
don't offend
the whites,
stand there in
the middle
of the god-
damned road
and get hit.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Dreaming of Romance
Come on in and watch the smoke from the flames. The fire is high because it is snowing again. When the smoke washes over us, sometimes it finds our dreams and lets others watch.
We stood together and you had your head bowed. I was mixed up in a whole series of frightening emotions. My adrenaline was pumping, my heart was fluttering, my head hurt, and watching you make different excuses and pull up a lot off different walls frustrated and infuriated me.
"But I'm not going to be in Regina for much longer, sure I'll be back after the practical, and you said, you want to go somewhere for your doctorate. And I'm just not ready to try something because I'm still raw. It just seems silly for us to try to get to know each other better, or beyond friends, I just *-"
Your eyes go wide as I grab you up and kiss you. At first your hands hit my shoulders and lightly push. I'm not holding you that tightly. Firmly, sure, but not so tight you couldn't push away if you wanted to. I peek. Your eyes close and your arms wrap around my shoulders.
At first it is just our lips pressed. And your body remains rigid, apart. I let my hands unclasp and rather than a hug I slowly run my hand along your back and side, I let the other reach up to touch your hair, your neck. I'm aroused as your body slowly melts into mine. Your leg presses between my own. Your hands cradle my head and our lips slowly part.
For eternity we let our breath, our souls mix. The kiss erases physical boundaries and we entwine.
I step back, regretfully. Time stopped for us, but not the rest of the world. I stare into your eyes as we separate. I hold out my hand, smile as charmingly as I can, "Would you care to join me for dinner tonight?"
"As," your voice is shaky and hoarse, you cough and clear your throat, and try to grin but seem nervous, "As friends?"
"No, I'd love to get to know you, slowly and surely. I'd like to go on a date with you." I grin and wink, "Will you be my girlfriend? You can wear my school jacket."
You laugh at me and shake your head, "I don't think this is wise."
"So you're coming to dinner as my date then?"
Quietly, but with conviction, "Yeah." You mutter something as you turn to pick up your dropped bag, and I think it was 'that was some kiss,' but I don't need to clarify. You'll tell me if you want me to know.
-
Several years later we meet. It is a pleasant surprise to see you here amongst other former students. We chat and you are as charming and beautiful as you were so many years ago. I haven't the inclination to stop you as you tell me all you've done since we left one another, as out paths diverged.
"You know, that kiss was one of the best of my life." You're surprised as you say it, and I chuckle.
"Greatest I can remember."
Our hands touch, then wrap around each other. It is more a handshake between friends than the interwoven fingers of lovers. For a moment we both seem to be held timeless again as either one of us might change the simple embrace.
"Thanks."
We part as others come to greet us, and time resumes.
We stood together and you had your head bowed. I was mixed up in a whole series of frightening emotions. My adrenaline was pumping, my heart was fluttering, my head hurt, and watching you make different excuses and pull up a lot off different walls frustrated and infuriated me.
"But I'm not going to be in Regina for much longer, sure I'll be back after the practical, and you said, you want to go somewhere for your doctorate. And I'm just not ready to try something because I'm still raw. It just seems silly for us to try to get to know each other better, or beyond friends, I just *-"
Your eyes go wide as I grab you up and kiss you. At first your hands hit my shoulders and lightly push. I'm not holding you that tightly. Firmly, sure, but not so tight you couldn't push away if you wanted to. I peek. Your eyes close and your arms wrap around my shoulders.
At first it is just our lips pressed. And your body remains rigid, apart. I let my hands unclasp and rather than a hug I slowly run my hand along your back and side, I let the other reach up to touch your hair, your neck. I'm aroused as your body slowly melts into mine. Your leg presses between my own. Your hands cradle my head and our lips slowly part.
For eternity we let our breath, our souls mix. The kiss erases physical boundaries and we entwine.
I step back, regretfully. Time stopped for us, but not the rest of the world. I stare into your eyes as we separate. I hold out my hand, smile as charmingly as I can, "Would you care to join me for dinner tonight?"
"As," your voice is shaky and hoarse, you cough and clear your throat, and try to grin but seem nervous, "As friends?"
"No, I'd love to get to know you, slowly and surely. I'd like to go on a date with you." I grin and wink, "Will you be my girlfriend? You can wear my school jacket."
You laugh at me and shake your head, "I don't think this is wise."
"So you're coming to dinner as my date then?"
Quietly, but with conviction, "Yeah." You mutter something as you turn to pick up your dropped bag, and I think it was 'that was some kiss,' but I don't need to clarify. You'll tell me if you want me to know.
-
Several years later we meet. It is a pleasant surprise to see you here amongst other former students. We chat and you are as charming and beautiful as you were so many years ago. I haven't the inclination to stop you as you tell me all you've done since we left one another, as out paths diverged.
"You know, that kiss was one of the best of my life." You're surprised as you say it, and I chuckle.
"Greatest I can remember."
Our hands touch, then wrap around each other. It is more a handshake between friends than the interwoven fingers of lovers. For a moment we both seem to be held timeless again as either one of us might change the simple embrace.
"Thanks."
We part as others come to greet us, and time resumes.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Ok Dan Hardy.
Come on in and enjoy the skins down, amazing how much they stop the wind hmm? And we have peanut butter and banana sammichs!
Ok. So Dan. Mr. Hardy. I understand you gotta be you, and you're a loud mouth shit head, I get that. I understand that. I really do. I'm a bit of an asshole myself so I get it. But let's be honest here ok. You got your ass kicked. You got dominated by a far superior fighter. Not just a better athlete, not just a better martial artist. You got your ass KICKED by a better fighter. GSP punched you when he wanted to, he took you down at will, and the only reason he didn't break your arm is a slight miscalculation on how he should have had the hold in the position he was in.
But for you to say THIS SHIT? Oh wow. Are you ever a fucking retard:
"Obviously GSP won, you look at the scorecard and he was dominant in his victory. But I didn't feel like I was beaten up in any way, I wasn't injured, I wasn't hurt. He took the win from me but he didn't take the fight from me.
"I wasn't beaten mentally or physically. I don't know, it must be frustrating for the fans and it's frustrating for me because I know that GSP has the kind of potential to make more of a fight out of it. But he's very good at wrestling and he chooses to stick with the safe option to keep his belt. I mean you can't hold it against him. It's not what I would do in his situation but I'm not in his situation right now, so I can't really make those calls."
That is Hardy's opinion of the fight. Really. REALLY?
Ok well let's look at the fight metrics.
St-Pierre took Hardy down 11 times and connected on 59 of 79 significant strikes, according to FightMetric which tracks mixed martial arts bouts. Compare that to Hardy's four of 27.
FightMetric gave the champion 84 out of a 100 in its Total Performance Review -- which it compares to a football quarterback's rating. Hardy got a 14.
Dude. You got fucking owned. And then you come out and say, 'I mean sure, he won but really, he only won by showing off the glaring holes in my game, where if I were the champion, I woulda come out and tried a very stupid game plan that would put me at risk.' What a fucking retard. How dare GSP fight a smart game plan that made you look like you never should have gotten the shot in the first place.
To quote Fightlinker (BTW full on sarcasm in full effect): All kidding aside, though, shame on GSP for exploiting his opponent’s weaknesses en route to dominating victories. Prick.
BTW, all data and quotes pulled from TSN.
Ok. So Dan. Mr. Hardy. I understand you gotta be you, and you're a loud mouth shit head, I get that. I understand that. I really do. I'm a bit of an asshole myself so I get it. But let's be honest here ok. You got your ass kicked. You got dominated by a far superior fighter. Not just a better athlete, not just a better martial artist. You got your ass KICKED by a better fighter. GSP punched you when he wanted to, he took you down at will, and the only reason he didn't break your arm is a slight miscalculation on how he should have had the hold in the position he was in.
But for you to say THIS SHIT? Oh wow. Are you ever a fucking retard:
"Obviously GSP won, you look at the scorecard and he was dominant in his victory. But I didn't feel like I was beaten up in any way, I wasn't injured, I wasn't hurt. He took the win from me but he didn't take the fight from me.
"I wasn't beaten mentally or physically. I don't know, it must be frustrating for the fans and it's frustrating for me because I know that GSP has the kind of potential to make more of a fight out of it. But he's very good at wrestling and he chooses to stick with the safe option to keep his belt. I mean you can't hold it against him. It's not what I would do in his situation but I'm not in his situation right now, so I can't really make those calls."
That is Hardy's opinion of the fight. Really. REALLY?
Ok well let's look at the fight metrics.
St-Pierre took Hardy down 11 times and connected on 59 of 79 significant strikes, according to FightMetric which tracks mixed martial arts bouts. Compare that to Hardy's four of 27.
FightMetric gave the champion 84 out of a 100 in its Total Performance Review -- which it compares to a football quarterback's rating. Hardy got a 14.
Dude. You got fucking owned. And then you come out and say, 'I mean sure, he won but really, he only won by showing off the glaring holes in my game, where if I were the champion, I woulda come out and tried a very stupid game plan that would put me at risk.' What a fucking retard. How dare GSP fight a smart game plan that made you look like you never should have gotten the shot in the first place.
To quote Fightlinker (BTW full on sarcasm in full effect): All kidding aside, though, shame on GSP for exploiting his opponent’s weaknesses en route to dominating victories. Prick.
BTW, all data and quotes pulled from TSN.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Random thoughts while procrastinating before getting back to writing a paper
Come on in, it's a beautiful day. The cat is wandering around and the little bear is here because of holidays. Small fire, just to get the smell of sage around the cave. Always helps to clear out the winter smells.
So Tiger Woods is front page news for being a golfer who fucked around. Slow news day? Let me tell you all what I feel about this. Tiger has a lot of money, is a handsome dude, and he would have literally had pussy flying at his face. Does this mean he should have done what he did? *shrug* For me, no, for others, yes. For other still, they don't know. What I _do_ know is that it isn't front page news.
The feds cut funding to the commission for dealing with residential school issues, citing their negative attitude towards the feds. Hmmm. Y'know I've said this before. Saying sorry is meaningless if your actions still show you don't care.
MMA is now its own tab on the TSN website rather than under the 'more' tab! COOL! The sport is more mainstream!
How about that. A re-imagining of A Nightmare on Elm Street. If they fuck this up I will make my own glove and find the producers and ... well. You've all seen the movies.
I've been injecting myself with insulin for about four months now. They told me 'You'll get used to it, the pain will go away.' It hasn't, and I haven't. I hate the injections. But. I'll keep doing them.
And it looks like I'll be coaching soccer again. WHEE!!! :) For the wee little guys too, 4 5 and 6 year olds. I love that age group.
So Tiger Woods is front page news for being a golfer who fucked around. Slow news day? Let me tell you all what I feel about this. Tiger has a lot of money, is a handsome dude, and he would have literally had pussy flying at his face. Does this mean he should have done what he did? *shrug* For me, no, for others, yes. For other still, they don't know. What I _do_ know is that it isn't front page news.
The feds cut funding to the commission for dealing with residential school issues, citing their negative attitude towards the feds. Hmmm. Y'know I've said this before. Saying sorry is meaningless if your actions still show you don't care.
MMA is now its own tab on the TSN website rather than under the 'more' tab! COOL! The sport is more mainstream!
How about that. A re-imagining of A Nightmare on Elm Street. If they fuck this up I will make my own glove and find the producers and ... well. You've all seen the movies.
I've been injecting myself with insulin for about four months now. They told me 'You'll get used to it, the pain will go away.' It hasn't, and I haven't. I hate the injections. But. I'll keep doing them.
And it looks like I'll be coaching soccer again. WHEE!!! :) For the wee little guys too, 4 5 and 6 year olds. I love that age group.
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