to keep you damned kids busy and off my lawn

the kiss
Originally uploaded by Agata….

Icelandic nitro-jeep hydroplaning.

The click of teeth. I kissed his mouth and felt like Salome.

Being held, it’s that feeling, being held. A stone beneath my feet, the desire to both crawl inside and all consume.

Part of my recent news is that I’ve agreed to go to the SCA Clinton Wars this year, the west coast’s biggest medieval nerd-prom. I have resisting invitation for approximately half a decade, but I’ve finally been given an offer I can’t refuse. Terrifying, but lovely and enchanting all at once. I am both honoured and respected.

Duncan has epitomized my Clinton warnings all at once:

“Clinton’s a hoot. I hope you have fun. I got married there to five women when I went. and then their head concubine killed me the next day. and one night I was a woman. and I got burnt to a crisp. The battle’s frickin’ awesome to watch though.”

For those not stupid and or insane, this weekend can still be an exciting slew of events.

Friday is the very last day of Boca Del Lupo‘s astonishingly delightful The Shoes That Were Danced To Pieces, their yearly “Free, Outdoors, All-ages, Roving Spectacular” performed in Stanley Park. (At Picnic Place, just past Prospect Point, because you know how much we all love alliteration). I went today and, hours later, my face still aches from smiling so much. Their exceedingly clever fairy-tale, full of self referentials and witty tongue-in-cheek, pulls you through the forest, following the often prettily singing actors as they dance from aerial wires or hang in nets from high up in the trees. Tom Jones does an excellent job aiming humour at the children, but the over-all charm is barely limited by the format. It’s free admission, but you have to call ahead and put your name down, because spaces fill up. 604-684-2622.

Later on Friday, Tiffany is in town with her Taiko Drumming show: JODAIKO, presented by Pride in Art, Friday, August 4, 8:00pm, at the Roundhouse Community Centre, (181 Roundhouse Mews). Tickets: $10 -$18 sliding scale, available at the door and at Little Sister’s Books, (1238 Davie St, 1-800-567-1662), and Rhizome Café, (317 East Broadway, 604-872-3166).

Saturday is the DykeMarch from McSpadden Park, (fourth and Victoria), to Grandview Park. It starts at noon and ends by dissolving into a party, the Dykemarch Festival, at one o’clock.

Either that, or the Powell St. Festival, themed this year as Memory Streams: 30 years of Japanese Canadian Arts on Powell Street. It’s fairly standard culture-fest fare – taiko drumming, sumo wrestling, martial arts demos, folk and modern dance, Kokoro, alternative pop/rock/urban music, visual arts, film/video, etcetera, as well as the expected array of Japanese food, crafts and displays.

Sunday, of course, is the Pride Parade from 12 – 2. The route along Beach Avenue is the same every year, starting from Denman and Robson and ending at Pacific and Thurlow, by the Aquatic Center. This year there’s over 130 floats scheduled and approximately 185,000 spectators expected. I recommend heading down early to get good seats, the earlier in the parade, the better, before the performers use up all their energy with booty waving. (Wave at the cow-girls for me, will you?). When the parade ends, it turns into the Sunset Beach Festival, which goes until 6pm.

why didn’t anyone remind me that kissing’s really nice?

There’s something about discovering vast amounts of Laurie Anderson on someone’s computer that garners them points of my instant approval. It’s the silliest thing, I know, especially as I’m not even a particular fan, but it kicks in my admiration without fail. Anyone with a sensitivity for Laurie Anderson much be an intelligent and sophisticated person. Somehow.

  • Will Eisner’s re-telling of Oliver Twist that explores the anti-Semitism that ran rampant through Dickens’s England.

    I blame the same place in my brain that was flattered when a new friend mistook me for thirty-three while we at Oliver’s on Sunday. (I’d hijacked his after-Illuminaires party into an impromptu front-yard slumber party, tying sheets to microphone stands to fake a pavilion). Over the years, I have skimmed off an almost misappropriated appreciation of culture from my much older partners that’s given me enduring soft spots for people like Captain Beefheart or Rickie Lee Jones, groups like King Crimson, and abiding, almost naughty, things for Frank Zappa and Kate Bush. (Though I may never really like Joe Jackson, it’s true, no matter how many of his albums I track down for people). Rarely do they surface, spending time with people my own age, but oh, when I find these respected troves of taste, I instantly smile.

  • Protein-Nanoparticle Material Mimics Human Brain Tissue.

    Not that my music taste has ever been particularly disliked. Even when I’ve got mainstream stuff playing, it’s usually of significant quality. Today Graham wanted to know what my music was, “That’s catchy,” and was shocked at my answers of OutKast and Nelly Furtado. “Do you have the one magical good song Kid Rock did too?”

  • New OK GO video, this time with treadmills.

    Which reminds me, I used to use an incredible program/website all the time that I really miss. It intricately mapped bands based on genre with lines between them, showing how complex the ties can be between musicians. Does anyone have any idea what I’m talking about? It’s not, it was much shiner, smoother too, and simply a treat to use. Had a name with the word Audio in it maybe. Anyone? Help?

    EDIT: Ed has been heaven-sent. The fabulous site is (previously musicplasma). Now they do movies too. I am impressed. You are impressed. Go tell everyone you know already.

    An apartment in my building is coming up for rent. It’s a one bedroom on the ground floor, which means it has a garden space, for $700/month.