Last month several Greenpeace activist broke into a Shell upgrade expansion site in Alberta. It turns out one of the sixteen people in that protest is in my Personal Narrative class. Today she got a phone call from one of her other activist (Since their conditions have been lifted on bail) and she said something that startled me and it was along the lines of: "I want this trial shit done with. If I'm not going to jail, I want to go back out there on the field." 

Head: Cowboy Hat and maybe a Ninja headband.
Chest: My long Grey cowboy long coat/fake chain male or armor.
Belts: Cowboy Holster + Ninja Sash - Two swords on my right side, gun on left.
Pants: Hoping to get Ninja Pants/ Viking pants
Shoes: Cowboy Shoes/Ninja Shoes
Hands: Viking Axe/armor.

I think it balances all three of them up.
 

1. I'm NOT Gay:
Origin: In End of Eternity my Character Alexis Fe Fantum (Or Jean Paul Trotsky) is a bisexual. His costume is like a scenster with black eyeliner and such. During pre-game rambles someone asked my character what's up with the make up and I said that he's gay. This leads to speculation and Brett, Tiffany, and other people thought I was gay. So bah!

2. I DON'T practice Magic, Magick, or anything else!
Origin: I've told people that I used to be a Satanist. They assume the magic aspect and the fact that I like to play with Tarot cards every once in a while I also play with magic... or something.

Other than that I don't have any other rumors to kill.

Tomorrow we're work shopping "THE BUS RIDE" by me tomorrow for personal narrative. It's different. It's not only brutally untrue, but also honest.  Hey? Tell me what you think!

I've been having lucid dreams lately.

Tarot Reading: Necronomicon Spread

                Ok, this is the spread that came with my Deck and I’m gonna try it. I first say the oath to Cthulhu on my plush toy and start the spread. The spread has an overall connecting card, master and servants. The Overall card is the theme of the spread, and it relates to my question. The Masters are cards dealing with the present and the servants deal with future events/people and where it’s going to lead up.

My question: Where will I be in the new year?

Card of Fate: Beast of Babylon – VII Chariot (Cancer)
Meaning: Victory, conquest, Triumph, fruits of battle, admiration of the crowd, fame, & Glory.
My Take: In the New Year I would be finished another semester in school, it could also mean a completion of a new year. We’ll see how it goes and ties into each category.

FAMILY LIFE:
MASTER (Present): Yog-Sothoth – X (Inverted) Wheel (Jupiter)
Meaning: Treading water, lost opportunity, setback, lack of progress, bad luck.
My Take: I’ve never had the best luck with my family as people know. My parents are looking to selling the house to force my brothers and I out of it. So this isn’t surprising. Zodiac rules say I’m uneasy since I’m a Virgo which is true.

SERVANT (Future): Queen of Wands: Lady (Water of Fire)
Meaning: A mature woman with an innate authority over others, deep inner strength of will, relaxed self assurance, a complete absence of uncertainty, and a sustained sense of purpose that adapts flexibly to achieve its ends. She is well liked by those she dominates, because she does it with such grace and skill, project an aura of stability and security.
My Take: If a servant is a Queen/King/Knave/not a fucking number, it general means someone comes in as or exists in my life instead of a characteristic/thing. Seeing how the CARD OF FATE is of triumph and my Family life is screwed and a new figure (I haven’t talked to many older ladies than I lately) is what I’m assuming could be a land lord. She seems to dominate the relationship though of renter and rentee, I’m assuming. But the way I see it and the cards play it, it’s possible that I’m moving out pretty soon.

SOCIAL LIFE:
Master (Present): Deep One & Bride – XI Lovers (Gemini)
Meaning: Love, relationship, pledge, union, trust, devotion, and trust.
My Take: Friends are marrying and stuff, getting together.  That’s about it. I’ve had a few confide in me, but they’re not together or in relations.

SERVANT (Future): Four of Discs
Meaning: Dominion, rank, earthly power, legacy, property, and gain of money.
My Take: With the card of fate and all I guess I’ll be more important to some of them for trust and what not? I have no clue.

WORK LIFE:
Master (Present): Amun – IV Emperor (Aries)
Meaning: Virility, creative spark, penetration, determined purpose, and passionate man.
My Take: I’ve been at home sick for work and haven’t worked in forever and determined to make a huge splash on Saturday night, so my efforts are even noted in the card. Just need to see if I’ll be successful and win that competition.

Servant (Future): (Inverted) Four of Wands
Meaning: Unsteadiness, hates, lack of preparation, anxiety about results, and rushing to finish.
My Take: Taking into affect that this is stuff in the new year, and that I’m supposed to be living alone I’m assuming I have a new job and I’m still trying to grasp what to do. But with the overall card being victory and conquest, I’m assuming this will be only a setback. Although it could also mean how my results on Tomorrow and Sunday nights would fare also, but I don’t think the future cards would be that quick.

LOVE LIFE:
Master (Present): Ishtar – XVII Star (Aquarius)
Meaning: Hope, Divine gift, cleansing of the soul, renewal of purpose, and destiny.
My Take: I haven’t been looking in the past few months for a relationship nor have I been doing the ‘emo’ thing I usually do. Maybe because the fall is starting again I’ll begin searching again and that’s why there is ‘hope.’

Servant (Future): Nine of Cups
Meaning: Success realized, material pleasure, wellbeing, and wish achieved.
My Take: I’m assuming by the new year I’ll be in a relationship, although I do think it’s still doubtful because a figure didn’t show up, but I’m seeing some success in this. Any takers :-P

EDUCATION LIFE:
Master (Present): (Inverted) Azathoth – 0 Fool (Air)
Meaning: Blindness, good advice ignored, meaningless talk, danger ahead.
My Take: I’m slowly finishing my schooling and my classes I’m slacking a bit and not taking things too seriously. Or the fact that I’m not learning about life right now.. or something.

Servant (Future): Knave of Disks: Auspex (Earth to Earth)
Meaning: A young woman or a child of generous nature, caring of others, giving of herself, with a deep constant courage to persevere in the face of difficulties. She preserves her resources with car, using them only where they are needed and is able to act effectively when decisive action is required. She is seldom caught without ammunition.
My Take: For education and such, I don’t know anyone like this and because it’s my ‘element’ I’m thinking this could be a muse of sort that I’ll meet which would teach me a lesson.

Heh, recap:

-          Living without a family

-          Change of workplace/difficulties

-          Relationship

-          More friendship

The Bus Ride

            It was another Vancouver day. It was cold, rainy, and windy. The rain fell sporadically, sometimes it’ll drizzle lightly like a summer shower, or it’ll plummet like stock traders in the late 1920’s. I leaned against the bus stop at Coquitlam Station, waiting for the ninety-seven to arrive. I gazed into the grey clouds above, letting the rain soak my face as if I were a bukkake star. I love the rain, and every time it rains I can’t help think of the ants that get washed away as if they were humans in the fairytale Noah’s Arc. I wish the human race would drown, but then again I suffer from a villain-complex.

            Several minutes passed before I turned to check the bus schedule again. The bus was running late, an ongoing standard for translink. Hands pushed me side to side, over and under, in a spontaneous half-assed mugging. At the end of my accidental beating I got a view of my attackers, umbrella people. They had come from everywhere, the busses, the trains, and the streets. They rushed the bus stop to catch a bus that hasn’t arrived yet. They formed lines as if they were designed by anarchists. I stood in a sea of umbrellas, not meeting the accessory status quo.   

            The bus was in sight, it moved slowly towards the bus stop. The crowd of umbrella people moved closer, as if they were in a litter wanting mother’s milk. The rain had soaked my coat, melting my t-shirt onto skin. The bus pulled in, ready to board. A massive rush, a tsunami of people rushed into the bus as if they were passengers trying to get on the last lifeboat of the Titanic. After I paid my over expensive fare, I managed to find a seat in the back of the bus. The bus engine revved up into what sounds like a death rattle before we leave.

            After a few stops the bus became crowded like a New Jersey gangbang. A chatty cell phone talking jailbait looking girl took a seat beside me. Usually no one sits beside the fat guy on the bus. As soon as she sat down my eyes were caught in a struggle from gawking at her perky breasts and crotch, and the front of the bus. I diverted my eyes to the driver’s rearview mirror. I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be a bus driver. Driving the same bus on the same route, picking up the same strangers that are going the same place everyday, it’ll drive me mad.

            Go, stop. Go, stop. Go, stop. That’s how the bus went. It’ll drive for a few feet and stop for people to get on and off. On the street I’m on there are eight stops, a bit much for a single street. God forbid a fat person has to walk an extra five minutes to the next bus stop, what an inconvenience! Oh well, like Patrick Henry’s quote, “Give me convenience, or give me death,” is the motto for the capitalistic world we’ve created. People get on, people get off. That is how the bus system works, for my convenience.  

            Jailbait got off at a stop where all the Simon Frasier University (SFU) students get off to catch the 143. I guess I could have openly hit on her without being on ‘To Catch a Predator’ if she goes to SFU, my loss. In these days it’s hard to draw the line with sexual fetishes are on the verge of illegality. I’ve known a dominatrix with a mean streak for sadism that borderlines assault. The line is blurred, like the outside scenery as the rain continues to drown the sinful city.

            I sit alone for a few stops. I have the freedom of an extra seat; I spread my legs out like a cheap whore at celebrities. I extend my arm across the other seat as if I was wrapping it around someone’s shoulders, but no one is there. I lean my head back listening to some hipster indie music that would become popular someday and I’ll hate them for ‘selling out.’ That’s all the world is, a big sell out. We’ve all cashed in at some point, it’s knowing that you’ve cashed in that makes a difference.

            I snuggle to the corner of the bus as a drunk construction worker gets on and sits beside me. He reeks of weed and alcohol, my nose flares up as I resist the urge to beat the guy down. It’s one of my pet peeves, well three: Construction workers, drunks and druggies, so at this point I want to smash his head in on the metal bar in front of me. I refrain and look outside the window, as the bus comes out to a stop in front of a McDonalds.

            I watch people cross the street, going to wherever they’re going; work, school, mall, or some other deviant place. I watch a man in his sixties have troubles crossing the street, people walk past him in droves, not caring how slow he walks. He probably won’t cross the crosswalk till the light changes. The hand flashes and a girl ran the crosswalk, passing the man as a car mows her down during a turn. Everyone on the bus was shocked, gasps as if it were an Adam West batman episode. Yet no one called 911, or stopped the bus. The driver continued to go and no one did anything, not even me. We assume something is going to happen, it’s the way our society works, someone else will do it, so why should we?

            I get off the bus towards the sky train station. Cultists hand out flyers and I take one, showing a picture of kids in a garden with Panda Bears with the title, ‘Your Children’s Future.’ Heh, I get on the escalators to the skytrain, considered to be the way of the future. The future is here, the future is selfish, and this isn’t my future but it’s someone’s future and I have one question.

            Where’s my fucking jetpack?

            It was another Vancouver day, rainy, cold, and windy. The rain fell sporadically, sometimes it will drizzle, then it would plummet like stock traders in the 1930’s, all of which happened over a grey overcast of bleakness that screams no future, or no hope. People don’t like this kind of weather, probably because they’re somewhat sane, but I? I love this kind of weather. This is probably the reason why I stood outside of the bus stop by myself as other people sought refuge in the nearby mall just feet away from the stop.

            I saw the bus in the distance, it was beaten, old, and I swear it must have broke down in the past few days the way the engine cries out over the Ford trucks and Semis that were also coming down the road. The bus finally reached the stop and like dogs being released from restraints the people from the mall came running towards the bus. I got on, paid my fair and nodded to the bus driver.

            I’ve thought once how it would like to be a bus driver. I’m assuming it would be like retail but worse. Getting people trying to get a free ride, not knowing where exactly where they were going, and handicap people. It’s not like I don’t like handicap people, I mean they’re people just like us, I think… But the point is they are effort I mean even in a normal retail job they are somewhat of a nuisance, and as a rider I bite my teeth whenever the bus stops for a few minutes to let one of those people on. I can only imagine how the bus driver feels? Being sneered at by a bunch of ungrateful riders when he lets a handicap person on the bus. It seems to be too much work to be a bus driver anyways.

            Go, stop. Go, stop. Go, stop. That is how a bus usually goes. It’ll drive for a few feet and stop for people who were too lazy to walk an extra three minutes to the next stop. It’s fairly annoying, especially when you’re on the bus for nearly the whole trip. People get on, some get off. More people get on, more get off. Again, that’s how a bus works.

            I had my Ipod on to drain out the useless chatter inside the bus. I don’t need to listen to which teenage girl took what into her what, nor do I need to know the new favourite band produced by hot topic or MTV, and finally I do not need to know who’s party has what and what it’s going to be like. My Ipod is my escape to a world filled with useless chatter, like the acting parts in a porno, I can do without.

            The bus is going extra slow today because of the weather. It’ll probably take an extra five or ten minutes to get to the destination. People like to complain about their ill planned trip how they’ll be late and how if they don’t arrive somewhere on time how it’ll affect them. No I don’t need to here to see that, I can see it in the rider’s body when they start to shake and dart back and forth from the window to the small to the light that says where the next stop is. Next stop Queens Street.

            I sweat Port Moody is a single street called St. Johns. There’s nothing else in this town except for St. Johns street. From the looks of it a bunch of mom and pa shops that sell unusual things like gag license plates to donairs. I don’t know why this street need two party shops on it’s drag, I would never picture Port Moody as the ‘party’ town of surberbia.

            The bus past a highschool, and thanks to the BC liberal cuts public transit now acts as a school bus as tiny teenagers load onto the bus like ants. Until the bus is packed like sardines, the bus doesn’t move. Even with the bus full, some are still outside yelling at the driver to let them in. Why do teenager girls dress like that anyway?

Friday: I feel better, I'm gonna try and work since no one wants to take my shift. Halfway through my shift of TALKING TO CUSTOMERS, my throat is in throbbing pain and I asked my MANAGER to fill in for me so I can GO HOME and GO SEE A DOCTOR. She says she can't fill in for me and to stay at work and finish the shift. I finished the shift in Pain.

Saturday: I went to go see the Doctor and he told me that I can't go to work for at least THREE DAYS. I go into work and drop off the note and my boss has a SPAZ attack because I'm not FUCKING psychic because I didn't tell her that I was going to be sick on the weekend by Wednesday.

SUNDAY: Sleep, Alice In Wonderland, Sleep.

Today: Blood Test and Hospital, go into work to see when I'm supposed to be working. Boss SPAZES again because she had to do her job and MANAGE the place. She was frustrated cause I hanged up on her Friday and the fact that I didn't give her any notice with the Doctor's notice. I told her she refused me to go home on FRIDAY night to see a Doctor or Go Home and that was against LABOUR RELATIONS. She laughed.

Problems:
- The feud with my boss is making it hard for me to actually focus on getting back to work.
- She's a fucking psycho, I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you on Wednesday that I was going to be sick for Saturday.
- Yes I hanged up on her cause I was bloody pissed off and in pain.
- She thinks i'm Faking it cause I don't know what's wrong with me despite just coming back from the hospital.

BAHGUH!
 

For women studies I have a femdiary, this is what I wrote in it earlier in the week. A dairy doesn't have to make complete sense as in a research paper right?

In a recent issue of Amazing Spider-Man #603, Spider-Man villain the Chameleon whose power is to shape shift took the form of Peter Parker and while pretending to be Peter Parker he took advantage of Peter Parker’s roommate Michelle. This has drawn up controversy because of the subject of rape and how the character Michelle is treated afterwards.

            In the comic Michelle was willing to have sex; however she believed it was with Peter Parker and not the Chameleon. This of course is sex under false pretences, which to my understanding is a form of rape. While the comic is recommended for mature readers, and could simply be explained by “Chameleon is a villain, he does villain things” excuse, the issue’s creator Fred Van Lente says it isn’t rape because to his understanding rape needs to be ‘forced of threatening’ and this is not the same thing.[1] Unfortunately to Mr. Lente’s definition of what rape is and isn’t, what the Chameleon did is still defined as rape according to law.

            Personally I didn’t care when the Chameleon did this, but was kind of annoyed with Mr. Lente’s comments. A mass debated on the internet has talked about this issue and after a few weeks Mr. Lente wrote another message claiming that the Chameleon and Michelle actually did not have sex, but made out on the floor that was supposed to indicate ‘sex.’ This is an obvious retcon on Marvel’s part in order to avoid a backlash of having a character rape another character.

            The rape itself is offensive, but how Michelle is treated afterwards I believe is more insulting, even more insulting than Mr. Lente’s comments on what is and isn’t rape. Michelle before the rape was seen as a ‘tough’ woman who was on the verge of throwing Peter Parker out of the apartment, but after the good ol’ screwing the Chameleon gave her she all of a sudden became clingy and obsessed over Peter Parker because we all know all a women needs is a good fucking to set her straight.

            Of course nothing will actually come of this, I haven’t actually seen anything other than readers arguing and disagreeing with this scene. It won’t stop me from getting Amazing Spider-Man or Lente’s future work; it’s just upsetting that a creator would deny something happened when it is clear on the page and through innuendoes that sex and rape did in fact occur. That is what I was upset about the most, the fact that Lente denied what he had wrote. Besides, it’s not like rape in comic books is a new and radical idea, just look at some of the Japanese adult work, or even read DC when Dr. Light raped a wife to a superhero. I just hope in the future Mr. Lente will take more care into what he is writing in the future involving relationships and women.

“Kris. Kris. Kriiiiiiiis, wake up. Hey, you awake?” The crackling voice of a teenage male going through puberty calls out. My eyes open, and my Brother’s chubby face with nacho cheese stained lips and cheeks greet me. I blink, and blink again.

                “Hey? I didn’t know you were sleeping,” Beau says in a half ass attempt of a lie. Beau moves away from the futon and to the door, flicking the light switch on. My eyes blink uncontrollable for a second, trying to adapt to the light. I’m assuming this is revenge for splashing cold water on him during his shower.

                “So anyways, I gotta idea.” He stops there, waiting for me to respond. In order to have a conversation with Beau, the other party must keep saying ‘yeah,’ ‘o.k.,’ or something along those lines. If the other party doesn’t acknowledge what Beau says every few seconds, the few minute conversation becomes a two hour discussion. I don’t play along; instead I turn to the clock as it blinks five am. Great, he’s been up all night drinking liters upon liters of pop again.

                “Kris? I got an idea!” He says again, trying to get me to respond. I just sit up on my futon looking at him in a half daze. Beau waddles in place; he can’t stand still if he’s nervous. It’s then I notice he’s wearing all black. Either Beau was raiding my closet, or he ran out of polo shirts to wear. He continues the conversation regardless of me contributing to it.

                “So anyways, I was reading one of your comic books and I got an idea.” Oh great, this isn’t going to end well, I think to myself. My brother gets obsessed over random things for about a week or two and moves on. Great example of this is when he watched Reservoir Dogs for the first time. He would watch the movie over and over again, trying to remember all of the lines. I don’t have a clue what he is going to say.

                “What is it?” I finally asked. His face lights up as if I’ve already going to agree to his ‘idea’.

                “We become superheroes!” He squeals out like a fifteen year old girl. He caught me off guard. He continues on, “It’s brilliant. We can dress up and fight crime! We’ll be famous. TV shows, movies, and comics!” His smile widens, his eyes are lit up, he’s proud of this idea. Too bad it’s fucking stupid.

                “Superheroes often have super powers, hence the super part.” I finally contribute to the conversation.

                “Batman and Robin, Daredevil, and Iron Fist don’t have super powers.” He retorts, as if I didn’t know my stuff.

                “Daredevil is blind so his sense are heightened, Iron Fist’s super power is some divine thing involving a dragon, and Batman and Robin have the best super power of them all, money. What you’re suggesting then is dressing up like retards and getting our asses kicked by real gangsters. Good idea fuckwit.” I answer, clearly annoyed at him.  

                “We have throwing knives and hatchets, it’s not like we’re totally weaponless. Besides, those are minor details. We need fabric, latex, or something to create costumes with, we need an image! Also, we need to find a villain. We also need names. We have to define our image!” Beau answers not making complete sense. He has always enjoyed dressing up for any reason, but this is a bit weird.

                “What about the actual crime fighting?” I ask, curious to his reply.

                “Well that’s a minor part. We need to make ourselves public! This means we need costumes, some photos of us in costumes, and a catchy name. Oh and a website! We need a website, maybe a video of some sort. And T-shirt, we need merchandising. We can also start a blog, we’ll be big!” Beau explains, this whole thing starts to sound just like him. He enjoys trying to get rich quick, like scratch and wins and keno. This sounds like one of his ideas now.

                “Leave. That’s fucking stupid. Seems like too much work.” I say, laying back down on my futon wanting to go back to bed.

                “But think about it! You can be Fatman!” He says, leaving the room before I finally threw some sort of action figure from my shelf at him, hitting the door instead. I can hear him run up the stairs laughing.