Banksy - Graffiti Removal

We're All Heart

Recently, the following comment was left on Boerishbwoy:

“here’s a comment: why don’t you write with your heart, not your brain!”

We were genuinely puzzled by the comment. First of all, we are all heart. Our postings are brimming with emotions and passions and motivated entirely out of a fiery romanticism. We are proud to say that our words are entirely irrational, rash, reactionary, and drawn straight from our guts.

Secondly, we abhor all brain functions. We detest the weak conventions that these other writers use as crutches – things like logic, reason, order, comprehensibility, and mathematics.

No really, we don’t like mathematics at all.

We never ever use our brain for our postings – except to help us with our grammar. If we didn’t make this one concession, we might end up making a horrible grammatical mistake. For example, we might put an exclamation mark at the end of question, we might insert a needless comma, or we may even neglect to properly capitalize the first letter of a sentence. Imagine, we might even make all three of these mistakes in the same sentence!

We wondered, with our hearts, what could have motivated such a comment. The post it was responding to may have offended a number of people: a young guy who wears skinny jeans past his butt, Bryce Courtenay, anyone involved in the creative process for the film version of The Power of One, a Pepsi enthusiast, Sean Penn, or Hugo Chavez. (Maybe it was a Venezuelan Communist screenwriter who was related to Bryce Courtenay, drank Pepsi enthusiastically, wore his skinny jeans low, and was a member of Sean Penn’s fan club).

We’re going to go with Sean Penn himself, because that means a famous actor visited this blog and commented. Most of all, it's what our hearts tell us. This blog has now been validated. We would like to thank Mr. Penn for visiting and leaving a comment.

Miniver Cheevy

Miniver Cheevy, child of scorn,
Grew lean while he assailed the seasons
He wept that he was ever born,
And he had reasons.

Miniver loved the days of old
When swords were bright and steeds were prancing;
The vision of a warrior bold
Would send him dancing.

Miniver sighed for what was not,
And dreamed, and rested from his labors;
He dreamed of Thebes and Camelot,
And Priam's neighbors.

Miniver mourned the ripe renown
That made so many a name so fragrant;
He mourned Romance, now on the town,
And Art, a vagrant.

Miniver loved the Medici,
Albeit he had never seen one;
He would have sinned incessantly
Could he have been one.

Miniver cursed the commonplace
And eyed a khaki suit with loathing:
He missed the medieval grace
Of iron clothing.

Miniver scorned the gold he sought,
But sore annoyed was he without it;
Miniver thought, and thought, and thought,
And thought about it.

Miniver Cheevy, born too late,
Scratched his head and kept on thinking;
Miniver coughed, and called it fate,
And kept on drinking.

~ Edwin Arlington Robinson

Renaming Wellington Street

Ottawa's Wellington Street runs west from the Rideau Canal past the National War Memorial, Parliament, the Supreme Court, the Bank of Canada, and the National Archives before finally ending rather anticlimactically at the Ottawa River Parkway. Well, it doesn't really end there, because it is reborn, much to the great befuddlement of tourists, as Wellington Street West. I'll leave that for now, though.

Recently, Randall Denley of the Ottawa Citizen suggested that it would be a great idea to change Wellington Street's name to Sir John A. Macdonald Street. So far, one more Citizen writer has given his support for this idea while two others have, I think, given some fine reasons why this is a poor idea.

Those in support of the name change cite Wellington's supreme lack of any Canadian experience, his utter British-ness, as reasons behind the necessity of this name change. After all, they argue, shouldn't such an important Canadian street be named after a figure from Canadian history? Who better for this than Canada's first Prime Minister, the heavy-drinking Scot who served Parliament for eighteen years? We're grown up now, we don't need to name our streets after daddy's heroes.

Terrible idea, the detractors counter. Sir John A. Macdonald himself was staunchly British and so were the men who named this street. Why should we re-shape our history to suit our immediate needs? Why cut Canada from its British roots, from the men and women who shaped Canada and firmly believed in the British Empire? We have grown up, but we did not have a revolution. There is no need to cut ourselves off from our roots, from our history.

I can see the perspective of those who support the name change. After all, Wellington has had more than enough things named after him, from the capital of New Zealand to beef wrapped in pastry. There are at least three towns in Canada named after the Duke, and he even has his own boot. How many Canadians even know who Arthur Wellesley, the first Duke of Wellington, is?

Nevertheless, I believe it is irresponsible to try to cut Canada from its roots. Canada still has the British form of government, the queen is our head of state, and it was not all that long ago that an influential segment of the Canadian population proudly declared themselves United Empire Loyalists. Like it or not, the 1st Duke of Wellington was a hero to many of the men and women who built this country. If they saw fit to name one of Ottawa's most important streets after the Duke, why should we change it?

If we rename Wellington Street, we would not be remembering Sir John A. Macdonald so much as forgetting the time he lived in.

Ry Cooder - Vigilante Man

Update:

~ As you can see, I've been updating at a frenetic pace. I've already had more entries in April alone than in all of 2008 or in all of 2009.

~ Why oh why oh why (oh why) do these youth wear skinny jeans pulled down past their butts? At least the rap aficionados with their baggy pants wear shirts that are long enough, in most cases, to cover their ratty boxers. These other kids, though, are wearing skinny jeans pulled down below their pelvis, but are still wearing shirts that were already one size too small before they shrunk in the laundry. And I've seen many a young man struggle with their sagging pants because of a lack of a belt. These new kids though? They're wearing belts, and the belts are tightened specifically at a point past their buttocks. Why? Why? WHY?

~ The previous rant should be read in your best crotchety old man voice.

~ The film version of The Power of One is not even in the same realm of good as the novel. I did spot Daniel Craig this time around, though.

~ The soundtrack is still amazing.

~ Alan Paton's books are still much better than Bryce Courtenay's.

~ Coke is still better than Pepsi.

~ Raspberry juice is still better than both of those.

~ Cheesecake wins over everything previously mentioned.

~ My Dad told me that he was happy to see me blogging again, but he also mentioned that he didn't get all of the jokes.

~ Don't worry Dad, I don't get them all either.

~ I promise not to make any promises about my blogging, because I always break them.

~ That was a contradictory sentence.

~ Admittedly, nearly half of the posts have been pointing to the work or thought of others. Still, I've been doing well.

~ I'm a little hungry for more comments, though. I like comments.

~ I'm also hungry for cheesecake.

~ I lost some of the blogs I had linked before when I was reorganizing everything. I tried linking them all again, but I noticed that mine was not the only blog that has been neglected.

~ I guess all those people are twittering now.

~ A Boerishbwoy update is like thirty twitters in one go. That’s how good we are.

~ Sean Penn to jokes: I don't get you.

~ I read that previous statement somewhere, I can't remember where. It's true though.

~ Sean Penn to international politics: I don’t get you either.

~ I made that one up myself - anyone who thinks that Hugo Chavez is benign leader without any dictatorial tendencies, can safely be said to "not get it."

~ I have two map systems, because I like geography.

~ Once again, I'm lacking blog hits from Mongolia.

~ I do have hits from Moscow though, and that's pretty much made my week.

~ The other hits are great as well, of course.

~ Shout out to Gary Finger.

~ My youngest sister recently made a speech on her role models. Guess who was included?

~ Are you kidding? No, it was not Sean Penn or Gary Finger.

~ That’s right, it was this guy right here.

~ I think she probably looks up to me mostly because of my amazing blogging abilities. A lot of people can blog, but not very many can blog like me.

~ If my sister knew Gary Finger, I’m sure he’d be included as well. As for Sean Penn, he might get a nod for his acting abilities. Maybe. Probably not.

Caspar David Friedrich - The Wanderer above the Sea of Fog

4:45pm on a Crowded Bus

His hands are dancing in the air,
A joyous smile on his face
He sits, oblivious to the sullen faces,
With those fingers fluttering over his head
The wonder of the moment on his childlike features.
Magnificent.
I step outside into the cold rain
With
that same
joyous smile on my face.

~JdB

Dear Mr. Boerishbwoy,

While we understand your frustration at a lack of traffic on your blog, we do not feel that you have sufficient cause to blame us for your lack of visitors. While we recognize that you may or may not have a high level of “awesomeness” in your content, we do not feel that your lack of comments has anything to do with our “complete and utter disregard for the monumental importance of every single post that is uploaded onto boerishbwoy.blogspot.com.” We also strongly disagree with your assertion that “this is a betrayal of humanity only surpassed in history by Scar’s betrayal of Mustafa.” Allow us to humbly point out that, not only is your sense of history dreadfully warped, but, The Lion King is a Disney cartoon containing talking animals. It should have been glaringly obvious to you that it is fictional. Fictional.

We, of course, recognize that you are frustrated with the lack of dots on your maps, but your demand that we intervene to create more hits from Mongolia is beyond our control. Allow us to suggest that you start catering your content to Mongolians, and you may soon find some hits from said country.

Contrary to your opinion, blogger.com is not run by “members of a vast right-wing conspiracy hatched with Google specifically aimed at suppressing the sound voice of reason and über intellectual delightfulness that is Boerishbwoy.blogspot.com.” We are just ordinary human beings who help provide a free blogging service. May we remind you that we do not receive any money from the Canadian Government. Therefore, it a rather empty threat when you say that you will expose us by demanding that your Member of Parliament “immediately introduce an inquiry into the use of tax dollars to support blogger.com and its anti-democratic suppression of pure unadulterated awesomeness.”

We want to thank you for using our service, and we wish you the best in your future endeavors.

Sincerely,

Blogger.com

"Stand in love, don't fall in love."

~ Stephen Marley.

On the Exclamation Mark

Before the mid seventeenth century the exclamation mark was known as the "mark of admiration." In this case, admiration refers to a sense of wonderment rather than some sort of feeling of approval. According to one theory, the exclamation mark came from the Latin word for joy, io, written with the I above the o. Thus, the exclamation mark was used to mark a passage that filled the writer with a sense of wonderment. Dating back to the fifteenth century, this mark is a relatively new invention.

This blog post was inspired by one of my pet peeves - the abuse of the exclamation mark. In my opinion the exclamation mark is a special mark which should only be used sparingly so that its expressive power is never lost. As printers of the past used the exclamation mark in order to delineate Scriptural passages of particular power, so should contemporary writers use the exclamation mark sparingly. Yes, this is probably a ridiculous request as the exclamation mark has come to represent volume and powerful emotion. Still, perhaps writing would improve if emotion was injected into the sentence itself rather than relying on the much-abused exclamation mark.

This is not my main problem with the modern use of the exclamation mark. No, my main problem involves the completely unnecessary use of multiple exclamation marks at the end of sentence. Thus, rather than typing something like "I'm happy!" the writer types "I'm happy!!!!!!

Actually, a bigger pet peeve of mine is the word "peeve" itself. Somehow this particular combination of phonetic sounds creates a word which is the audible equivalent of warm garbage. And here's something else that doesn't make sense: the phrase pet peeve itself. When I think of the word pet, I usually think of a creature, such as a fish or a dog, that is cared for and cherished by its owner. In fact, even as a modifier, the word pet implies that it's something favoured. If I have a pet peeve, is it a cherished peeve that I nurture?

"Hey, what's that ugly looking thing that smells like a diaper full of boiled cabbage on your leash there?"

"Oh that? That's my pet peeve."

"Oh nice, what kind of peeve is it?"

"It's an exclamation mark peeve."

"Oh, those are rare, aren't they?"

"Yes, not too many people have them."

"May I indulge it?"

"Well, I'd prefer that you didn . . ."

"HEY THERE LITTLE GUY!!!!"

"Oh, now you've done it."

Guru - Lifesaver

Keith Elam: July 17, 1961 - April 19, 2010

Brent Stirton: Omo Valley, Ethiopia

More of the impressive photography of Brent Stirton can be found here.

Epitaph On A Tyrant

Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.

~W.H. Auden

The Man with the Moustache

On the bus I am quite accustomed to seeing individuals, typically university students, who are wearing vintage clothing or sporting retro styles. I would guess that most of these students do not remember the eighties, and I am quite confident that none of them even existed in the sixties or seventies. I’m not complaining, I think it’s refreshing to see people expressing their individuality by dressing the same as one another.

No really, it’s all good.

Recently, however, I saw a young man with a waxed moustache, rakishly curled upwards. Now, I am definitely not an expert on the sixties or the seventies nor am I particularly knowledgeable about moustaches, but I am fairly certain that, with the notable exceptions of Rollie Fingers and southern gentlemen, the curled moustache went out of style sometime in the twenties. Of course, it probably made appearances in the thirties. Really, though, this type of moustache would have been considered in the same way a mullet would have in the late nineties – a bit out of place, a sort of mullet of facial hair. Now this guy was a real individual, rocking a curled moustache on a busload of slaves to fashion conventions.

Of course, he may have just been from the south.

In Which I Answer Some Serious Questions - Part 2

In which I answer more questions from this site.

Do the minutes on the movie boxes include the previews, credits, and special features, or just the movie itself?

If there were only a way we could measure the elapsed movie time and compare it to the time on the box. Until then, we will never know.

What does PU stand for (as in "PU, that stinks!")?

It actually stems from the original thirties initialism PAU, which stands for Palpable Airborne Ugliness.

Why do we put suits in a garment bag and put garments in a suitcase?

Nobody has referred to their clothes as garments since the Victorian era.

Can cannibals be arrested for being under the influence of alcohol (e.g. drunk-driving) if they have eaten someone who was drunk?

There needs to be a new word, other than stupid, for the complete and utter idiocy of this question. I’m going to address the less stupid, yet still incredibly stupid, aspect of this ridiculously stupid question. No wait, I can’t find it. You probably had a teacher who told you that there was no such thing as a stupid question. I feel bad for this teacher, there was no way that they could have anticipated this level of stupidity.

What is the stage of a reptile when it has eggs in it but they haven't been laid. Are they pregnant?

No, they’re egg-specting.

If Mars had earthquakes would they be called marsquakes?

Absolutely they would not.

If an ambulance is on its way to save someone, and it runs someone over, does it stop to help them?

An ambulance is an emergency vehicle lacking opposable thumbs and, as such, cannot administer first aid.

Why is it called a funny bone, when if you hit it, it's not funny at all?

Because it’s funny to the people watching.

Do you yawn in your sleep?

I yawned in this question.

Why do dogs like the smell of other dogs butts?

For the same reason that goats eat garbage and monkeys throw their shit.

If a cannible (sic) was on death row could he ask for the last guy that was electricuted (sic) for his last meal?

It’s interesting that the last really stupid question was also about cannibals.

Do Chinese people get English sayings tattooed on their bodies?

Yes

Do glow-in-the-dark objects stop glowing when somebody turns the lights on?

No, but they do start transmitting Morse code.

If you died with braces on would they take them off?

Dagnabbit, this question was covered in Part 1, don’t you pay attention?

If someone has their nose pierced, have (sic) a cold, and take(sic) their(sic) nose ring out. Does snot come out of the piercing hole?

Only if the individual has trouble with faulty parallelism.

How come lemon washing up liquid contains real lemons, but lemon juice contains artificial flavorings?

It’s because of the man, man.

Do you wake up or open your eyes first?

Neither, I usually start shaving first.

Did Noah have woodpeckers on the ark? If he did, where did he keep them?

He did, he kept them in a Titanium lockbox.

Why are builders afraid to have a 13th floor but book publishers aren't afraid to have a Chapter 11?

Because book-publishing was invented in countries that don’t have the American legal code.

How do you handcuff a one-armed man?

You can’t. This is why one-armed bandits are greatly feared among law enforcement agencies.

If the FBI breaks your door down do they have to pay for it?

Yes, because I’m Canadian and they have no business breaking down my door.

In some books, why do they have blank pages at the very end?

It’s for your inspired doodles.

Why can't donuts be square?

They can, they’re called Dutchies.

Why put a towel in the dirty clothes basket if when you get out of the shower you are clean?

I’ll answer the related question that you’re afraid to ask: this is probably why you smell like a damp mouldy towel.

What happens to an irrisitable (sic) force when it hits an immovable object?

Since both things cannot exist in the same universe, they proceed to have an argument over who is stronger. Whoever loses, ceases to exist.

If there's a speed of sound and a speed of light is there a speed of smell?

Yes, smell travels at a speed of up to sixty-five kilometers an hour and remains for five stops after the guy who does not wash his towels, or possibly doesn’t even use them, has exited the bus.

Why do overalls have bel (sic) loops, since they are held up at the top by the straps?

The loops are there so the farmer has somewhere to put his thumbs, other than his overall straps, when he’s relaxing.

Do people in prison celebrate halloween.... if so how?

Prisoners don’t celebrate anything, they just mope.

Do the security guards at airports have to go through airport security when they get to work?

Yes.

Why are all of the Harry Potter spells in Latin if they're English?

Because Harry Potter sucks.

What do Greeks say when they don't understand something?

Δεν καταλαβαίνω

What happens if a queen gives birth to a pair of siamese twins? Who gets to be king?

Their brother.

Do all-boys schools have girls bathrooms? Conversely, do all-girls schools have boys bathrooms?

Oooh, you used the word “conversely.” Nice.

Are children who act in rated 'R' movies allowed to see them?

Only if they sneak in when the attendant isn’t looking.

How come cats butts go up when you pet them?

I don’t pet them.

What would happen to the sea's water level if every boat in the World was taken out of the water at the same time?

The insignificant ocean would definitely be overwhelmed by the removal of that vast boatage.

How come you never see a billboard being put up by the highway?

Billboards are only changed at night during power outages by tiny gnomes.

Do the English people eat English muffins, or are they just called muffins?

No, they eat crumpets and scones and drink copious amounts of tea.

How much deeper would the ocean be if sponges didn't grow in it?

The insignificant ocean would definitely be overwhelmed by the loss of all that vast sponge-age.

Why do they call it the Department of Interior (sic) when they are in charge of everything outdoors?

I would have answered this question, but you forgot the definitive article in front of the word Interior.

Why does Jell-o have a smell when you add the powder in the water, but when it "gels" the smell is gone?

Remember when Bill Cosby had those Jell-O commercials? Those were fun.

Why are dogs (sic) noses always wet?

See the previous question about dogs.

Why do people say "heads up" when you should duck?

Because they want to see you get struck in the face.

Why does triangularly cut bread taste better than square bread?

Because you’re delusional.

If one man says, "it was an uphill battle," and another says, "it went downhill from there," how could they both be having troubles?

I don’t know, we should call the idiom police.

The Refugee Bill

I do not like Jason Kenney’s Bill C-11.

Refugee claimants, who already have enough problems under the Canadian system, will have an even harder time under the changes he has proposed. Certainly the system has been abused by some claimants over the years, but this does not mean that all claimants should be penalized. Many legitimate refugee claimants’ lives are hanging in the balance and, for this reason, we owe it to them to give them a fair hearing.

The government has failed to fill the refugee board adequately to deal with refugee claimants. Now they are using the backlog this has created to make it even more difficult for legitimate asylum seekers to find refuge in Canada.

I am frustrated and angry with the way Kenney is referring to refugees regarding this issue. He refers, for example, to refugee claimants’ who do not meet the refugee criteria as “abusers.” This serves to darken Canadian perceptions of these individuals and stigmatizes all refugees. Not only that, but just because an individual does not meet the refugee criteria, does not mean the hardships that they face in their country of origin are somehow illegitimate.

Bill C-11 would deny some refugee applicants based on their nationality, rather than on their individual cases. The government would decide which countries are democratic and liberal enough not to have a refugee problem. This, I fear, would be a politically motivated decision, and would ignore human rights abuses committed by Canadian allies. Many countries that most people would consider safe still remain dangerous places for certain ethnic minorities and for gays. These individuals should not be pushed aside, not if we want to be just.

Currently, many refugees who are initially rejected appeal for reconsideration on humanitarian and compassionate grounds. There are, after all, certain aspects of a refugee’s case that are not taken into account in the refugee system. I know several refugees who have done this, and, yes, their appeals were warranted. Bill C-11 would block refugee claimants from this appeal, and leave them without this important recourse.

Please, if you have any objections to Bill C-11, write to your MP.

If Only

These thoughts lay knotted and jumbled
in a dark forgotten corridor
of thick restrictive walls,
loud grating noises,
and soft sullen whispers.


The knots are wet,
prickly to the touch -
as knobby fingers
tear haplessly at their
slippery edges.

Elbows knock the walls as ears
strain to hear the whispers,
but their incessant hissing only
occasionally reveals the rounded sounds
of words.

If only this thick rope can be untangled . . .