Remy - No way! Am I really THAT old?

Hey everyone,

First, please feel free to nag Chelsea to write so I'm not the only one doing this thing, will you? Thanks. Anyway, on to the entry.

Holy crap, I don’t believe it … I’m old! When did that happen?

I was talking to a friend of mine today about all the crap that’s happened to the English language because of the internet. The bottom line running through my mind was “what the crap happened to real words”?

Basically I think Callifornication’s Hank Moody came really close to hitting the nail on the head when he said "People... they don't write anymore - they blog. Instead of talking, they text, no punctuation, no grammar: LOL this and LMFAO that. You know, it just seems to me it's just a bunch of stupid people pseudo-communicating with a bunch of other stupid people in a proto-language that resembles more what cavemen used to speak than the King's English."

Even though I think it’s actually the Queen’s English, I think he’s got a point. (Good job not hitting your thumb with that hammer, Hankie.) We’re basically faced with a flood of pseudo-slang which is totally killing the English language.

Now, By no means am I suggesting we common folk begin to palaver with the elaborate cadences and multi-syllabic stylings of a British aristocracy or philosophical circle junkie. Language changes. It’s an unavoidable reality. But I can’t imagine how “So went tad a bar w/meh dawg dis weekend lol man so fun awesome! LMAO” even begins to substitute for at least reasonably decent writing. (Just an aside, spell check rejected pretty much all of that example.)

Now, I respect the fact not everyone can construct a sentence. I can grudgingly even read a whole message typed by my friend who never even uses so much as a comma without wanting to tear my ears off. And yes, I can even deal with the sad reality that the every day Canadian teen thinks Ebonic slang is (wait for it) “sick”. But all this together in one single package, tied up with a nice pink ribbon of text and internet slang? That’s just too much, even for me.

“But Remy, it’s just so much faster to type this way on my phone.” Granted. But see, there’s this thing called a keyboard. And when even your shiny new (but already outdated) phone has one of these, your excuse loses merit.

SO what the heck does this have to do with me thinking I’m old? Oh boy, you’re not going to believe this. No matter how old you are my dear reader, you’ll probably remember when you absolutely loved something your parents thought was awful!

Case and point: If you’re around 50, you’ll probably recall sitting in your parents’ basement (or some such safe haven) in your late teens and early twenties (or later), smoking pot and listening to some of that awesome era of music that “will never die”. Maybe you were about to get laid like a champ, or even by a champ. Now the next generation? Totally not cool for them to do that in your eyes. And if you ARE that next generation, you might be shocked to learn that your strict, overbearing mom or dad used to be an unpaid porn star, high on life and all sorts of substances.

Is this an embellishment? Probably. But the fact is, the older you are, the less the younger generation seems to make sense, unless you’re progressive, or just trying to preserve your youth vicariously through the lives of your children.

My friends, I am actually at that stage of life, and I’m only twenty-seven. I even find myself using phrases like “back in the day”. Chelsea makes fun of me for being old, and I hate to say it, but I think she’s right!

Chelsea and I were having a discussion today about reality shows – specifically the teen pregnancy shows that seem to be cropping up everywhere. She really enjoys those. I think all reality TV is a ridiculous waste of time. It basically glorifies shenanigans people just wouldn’t do in the “real” real world. Now fiction glorifies some of those same shenanigans it’s true. But we KNOW it is fiction, and it doesn’t pretend to be anything else. Anyway, I sort of feel bad about my outlook on them because I think I really hurt her feelings. So if you’re reading this my love, again, I’m really sorry if I offended you.

I remember the good old days where TV existed for four purposes: To Experience awesome stories, watch sports, get your “live news when it happens” and dance to Indian music. (Another aside. I think only my brother Travis and maybe my dad will get the last one. Basically when I was six I loved dancing to Indian music in front of the TV for a few months. Travis still hasn’t stopped making fun of me for that one.) Oh there are still television shows that are pretty awesome. I don’t watch much TV anymore, but I know they still exist. The point is, I hate reality TV with a burning passion, and yet I know how insanely popular it is.

I already know while a part of me will always attempt to move forward with my entertainment, I will always be nostalgic for those good old days when TV wasn’t full of pseudo-realistic plastic people with pseudo-realistic drama, and POPULAR music wasn’t as full of “songs” about clubbing, getting drunk or seeing how many girls you’ve screwed in a week. Speaking of which, what’s with all this friggen rap, and rap with a few lines of a chorus calling it a “song”? It’s cool people like it and all, but can I please turn on my radio without hearing a deluge of that and various nickelback clones?

For the ones or twos of you still reading this, thank you for your indulgence. I’m completely aware I’ve been rather unfair to some of the reality shows and music that actually stand above the dribble. There are exceptions to every rule, yadda yadda yadda. I realize too one of the reasons I’m still a bit of a loser is because I’ve got such an eclectic taste in entertainment. This isn’t a personal attack on any of you. If you’re offended by my ranting at all, it must mean you obviously care enough about my words to be offended. Otherwise my opinion wouldn’t matter. SO thank you, and sorry if I offended you.

A long over-due update of sorts

Hey loyal followers, Remy here.

A couple of you have been asking what happened to this blog. Good question! It’s not like I haven’t had a lot of crap on my mind.

Let’s start with the biggest piece of breaking news, shall we? We’re not moving yet. Yep, you heard it right. Moving has officially been pushed back until perhaps February while Chelsea finishes her book keeping program at VIU. So I guess that means I’ll be doing my Digital Media class after all. That will certainly be an experience. I have to admit it’s kind of nice that a couple people are glad we’re staying. I hope that doesn’t make me selfish.

Now for something a little more somber. This is my last week of work. Hard to believe seven weeks has already gone past. I don’t feel like I accomplished nearly enough here. I’ve managed to write a few more articles which should be published very soon. I’m looking forward to that, both for my sake and for the farm’s. I won’t lie; the money has been nice too. It’s nice to feel like I’m not living from pay cheque to pay cheque. Of course it’ll mostly be going to our coming school semester, but for a brief moment, I can imagine that we’re doing well financially.

So much has changed around the farm since I’ve been here. The herbal healing garden has been completed and is now operational. It’s really nice. The main walkways are concrete for wheelchairs, and there are picnic tables with umbrellas dotted everywhere. The herb beds are raised to provide easy access, and there’s a rock garden with a fountain at the entrance. There are benches lining parts of the garden. They’ve got so many herbs I’m almost overwhelmed. They’ve really put a lot into it. Honestly my only regret with this job is that I haven’t really learned anything about herbs and spices and the like.

Two of our staff members resigned, one because of another job and the other for personal reasons. It’s certainly changed the atmosphere around here. I can’t quite explain it, but I do know Pauline (who I believe I mentioned) was someone I got along with quite well. It was unfortunate to se her go.

I’ve been working hard on this documentary for the last two weeks. Holy crap! I had no idea this was going to be so hard. I’ve done some interviews, but a few of the participants weren’t nearly forth-coming enough to be of much help. I did get a few great quotes though. This one guy Kevin had a stroke when he was sixteen. He suffered brain damage and was paralyzed. He was told he wasn’t ever going to walk again. Now he’s out here crushing rocks with a machine, gardening and doing other odd jobs. The man has an old movie quote for every situation. I got a lot of material from him. Almost too much. I find the documentary focuses on him too much. Maybe I’m doing way better than I think, I don’t know, but this thing seems to lack personality.

That brings me to a question. What the heck is wrong with my writing? It’s not that I can’t write well, I just can’t write much. I remember years ago when I was in my late teens and early twenties I constantly wrote. I have a two hundred page novel which is still sitting in my computer’s novels folder, uncomplete. I wrote a ton on that. Sure it needs work now. My writing has really grown since then, but I find myself sitting gazing at that insidious blinking cursor for ages, only to have a few paragraphs worth of material at the end of two hours … and that’s if I’m lucky! It’s like I have a mental block. The ideas are there, and they’re even pretty darn good I think, but they won’t appear in writing. I have a few projects going – a sci-fantasy, a fantasy, a sci-fi horror and a quirky comedic paranormal mystery. Each one of these have some pretty great ideas behind them. But it’s like writer’s block has become a sinister presence in my mind. If I write two paragraphs after three hours I consider that an accomplishment. So how the heck did I lose it? Better yet, what can I do about it? What’s the point of trying to be a writer if I can’t bloody write? If I didn’t have any ideas that would be one thing, but this is being unable to even put words down. I’ve tried that whole write for ten minutes thing, and I’ve tried outlining ideas. Each of these are great ideas, but when it comes to actually sitting down and writing the actual story it’s like there’s this mental block. I can feel it deep down in my chest, and clamping on my mind. Unfortunately it’s transferring itself to this documentary. I’ve got a whole three pages after three days. True, some of this is due to the fact that I have barely any idea what footage they’ve got, but the rest is all me.

I can write an entry like this fast. By no means is this even close to quality writing, but it’s writing. I’d rather be able to write a lot down, then edit, rather than write a little bit, edit it to great quality, then not be able to continue. I don’t need to be a speed writer. But is a page or so a day really so much to ask?

To end on a positive note though, while I haven’t been able to write much on it, the new story I’m working on is pretty awesome so far. Of course it’s only three pages, but they’re three good pages.