It’s basically twitter with music: your feed is a constantly-updating playlist. I like music from all over the spectrum, so the people I listen to have pretty diverse taste. I’m currently listening to 60 people, of whom probably 15 are active daily, and at any given time I might be on at the same time as five or six.

It’s an amazing exercise in not-quite-randomness.  I get everything from lo-fi indie to 80s hardcore to techno washing over my eardrums in a glorious mix. Depending on my mood, and the mix of people on at the same time as me, I can focus on one genre for a night, or just bounce all over the place.  I get introduced to great new music every day, and sometimes get the joy of  introducing someone to a favourite of mine.

Even those friends with whom I share a major overlap in musical taste probably only like about 50% of the same stuff I do, so it’s pretty fantastic to swap tunes with people who share not only my taste, but my mix of tastes.

As a medium, Blip is interactive, but not really conversational. Between that and the fact that the content is pretty much completely confined to one topic, I have finally found a social network on which I feel absolutely no need to self-censor. I may not want to bore my friends with my professional life or feel the need to update my work colleagues about my weekend, but I am completely comfortable blipping Hank Williams, Radiohead and The Stooges in the same night – plus five other artists  you haven’t heard of (and I hadn’t two hours ago).

Like his protegés, Malcolm often reveled in telling people he was a pimp, a fake, a money-grubbing sleazebag. I have no inclination to contradict that.

I am grateful he was in the right place at the right time to bring the Pistols to fame.

Thanks for that, you filthy rotter.

Surround yourself with good people if you want to have an awesome weekend.

This weekend I took part in the London Fringe Festival’s 62-Hour Film Contest. You can get some teasers of the experience here and some more of Kevin’s photos here. although the film itself will not go online until the screening next weekend.

I am way too distracted tonight to write much about it, except to say how proud I am to have spent two and a half days:

• creating something cool

• re-discovering the fun of acting (even for 30 seconds of footage)

• seeing how good a lot of my friends are at acting (and somehow not being surprised)

• being reminded that the best people never accept the credit they are due (Mr. Caplan, I’m talking to you)

• learning how much goes into even the simplest aspects of filmmaking

• validating a previously held theory that sauerkraut should not be grilled, nor should one allow oneself to be confined in small places with grilled sauerkraut

See you at the movies!

I was watching the opening ceremonies of the Olympics, and along with the constant stream of mocking commentary that accompanies any such viewing in our household, I felt a curious welling up of… what?!? National pride?

Yes, the VANOC managed to pull off a show that overcame the intense grinchiness I ususally maintain for that type of production, and actually had me reflecting on what a great place we live in.

Now before any Olympic grinches jump down my throat (I know, I know… I’m also getting a bit tired of hearing about them and we’ve got almost a week left to go) let me explain the real reason for this post. Today in the car, the good old CBC gave me two more reasons to be proud to be Canadian.

First: We’re rolling back libel laws to allow journalists (that includes bloggers, btw) greater freedom and protection when reporting on anything in the public interest.

This actually happened in December (see some details here) but I heard very little about it in the media. Considering how rarely we hear anything positive about state of the media, free speech and democracy, I think this is fantastic news. Basically, anyone reporting on an issue “of public interest” no longer has to meet the near impossible standards of court-endorsed truthiness that they had to under previous interpretations of the law in Canada.

Now, as long as you can prove you did your homework and made an informed assesment that something is true, you can say it in public without threat of prosecution. Here’s hoping this leads to more and better stories about our politicians, police, rich folk… anyone of a class that has been used to hiding from journalists behind the threat of libel suits.

Second: Our track record in foreign affairs isn’t perfect, but at least when we screw up, we do something about it. Ahmad El Maati El Maati, a Toronto truck driver, was arrested in 2001 while in Damascus to attend his wedding. He was later transferred to Egypt, where he spent 26 months in prison. Today I heard this guy describe his experience being tortured. (See video link off this article.)

Am I dismayed that CSIS was playing sleazy with their foreign counterparts? Of course, but that’s what spy agencies do. The more important angle for me in this is that we live in a country where a) this kind of thing actually gets investigated; and b) we actually get to hear the results of the investigation in public.

So for all the crap we may get wrong (inaction on climate change, failing to fund education properly…) this country is still a fan-frickin-tastic place to live. I wonder if anyone at that Iacobucci press conference had their face painted?

I ended up dropping $12.62 in the store.*  On my way out of the store, I saw sandwich board-dude again. And thought, “that poor schmuck probably doesn’t make $12 an hour.”

I mentally retracted my snicker.

*For those of you who must know, a new litterbox scoop, a treat  for my at-home-sick better half, and a board game version of Banzai!).

Today at lunch I was gobsmacked by a picture in the freeps of a massive “clay pie” factory in Haiti. What completely floored me was that this extreme diet was not brought on by the devastation of the recent quake.  Apparently so many Haitians are so poor, and the island so under-resourced, that eating dirt (for all intents and purposes) has become a necessity, and even common. I couldn’t find the pic on lfpress.com so I googled it and the article I found was from 2008.

Wow.  We can spend millions on olympics and “saving” banks, but as a race we can’t be bothered to even keep ourselves fed.  I guess what really makes me mad is that the relative cost of “saving the world” is trivial. This commercial does a great job of illustrating the disparity of spending.

Even if we combined the costs of providing clean water, education, and medical care to the cost of feeding the world, it would still be a small fraction of what gets spent on war or hoarded by the rich.

About the only way to combat knowledge of that kind of injustice is to put it in perspective. Thanks to Nik & Melissa for pointing this one out to me. It’s not exactly a feelgood piece, but it beats the hell out of the feeling Sean Penn left me with.

Sleep well, fellow apes.

We so often try to avoid them, but a saying only gets used enough to become a cliché if it resonates with people.

My doctor’s office has one of  those “chicken soup for the soul” style posters hanging in it. It’s really nothing more than a big list of clichés. In public, or in a hurry, I would probably mock its contents. However, when I end up waiting alone in a room for 20 minutes (as I seem to do whenever I go), I find myself getting all contemplative. It’s almost like being a monk in a cell, except the stupid sheet of crinkly paper I’m sitting on keeps me from completely zenning out.

An all-star in the world of clichés is, “we really should do this more often” or its more sombre version, “it’s a shame we only get in touch when someone dies or gets married.” Trite or not, we usually mean it when we say it.

Today I was fortunate to have a good reason to reconnect with a lot of people.  I announced that I’ll be starting a new job next week. I got lots of nice messages back from people I’ve worked with, and it’s got the cliché-o-meter spiking, so I have to say…

“It’s bittersweet.”

Gack. True though. I’m really excited about the new gig, but very much going to miss the people I’m working with now.

So, it’s farewell rtraction, and hello Sunshine Foundation. Depending on how long you’ve known me, this may seem like an odd move  or an obvious one. All I know is that the new role is right up my alley, and it’s a change I’m looking forward to.

Gratitude is a fantastic reality check. It calms me, cheers me up, and puts everything in perspective.

Let’s start globally (and I am not being flippant here). I’m grateful that I don’t live in fear of my country’s police or army. I’m grateful that my home or home town has never been destroyed by a natural disaster. I’m grateful that no one I know has had to go to war and be killed.

On to my life. I’m grateful to have family and friends I love. To be healthy. To work with people I like.

My point is not to give you my inventory but to remind you of how easy it is to generate your own gratitude list. And if you ever have trouble sleeping, instead of running down the list of all the problems you have and expect to face the next day, try running down a list of all the times that day you laughed, or got something done, or did something nice for someone and made them smile. It does wonders for insomnia.

I love Thanksgiving – it is one of the few holidays that most North Americans tend to agree on without getting hung up on too many details. Besides, it gives those of us who don’t go to church a reminder to sit down together and be grateful.

On a scale of 1 to 100, say.

If you said “zero,” sorry, I don’t believe you.

Why would I say that? Because after years of questioning and challenging my own prejudices and attitudes, I’ve come to realize that I’m not likely ever going to be able to honestly answer that question with “zero.”

So what’s with that last couple of percentage points? Does that mean I’m a bigot?  Nope.  It means although even I’m very accepting of diversity in all its forms, even though I’m completely comfortable with my own sexuality, and even though I’m proud to know lots of wonderful people in the GLBT community, (including some good friends) I still have this deeply ingrained survival instinct that make me want be sure to include the standard disclaimer – “By the way, I’m straight!”

It’s sad, really. Our culture has so ingrained in me that being gay is bad, that even though about 98% of me is enlightened, getting rid of those last vestiges of fear and discomfort – that last one or two percent – is probably impossible.

What about you? Imagine you’re at work (or school) and someone says to you, “Did you hear that (NAME) is gay?” 

Play out the conversation in your head.

Did you put “the disclaimer” in your reply? Common examples might be:

• That’s ok, as long as he keeps it to himself.
• So what? She’s still our friend, whatever she does at home.
• It doesn’t matter to me. You wouldn’t even know.

It’s too bad how often people need to put that asterisk on their own statements, because if you have to end your statement with a “but” then you are sending the signal ”ignore the first part of what I said if it would cause us to argue.” Even if you are still a little bit uncomfortable about “the whole gay thing,” you shouldn’t need to apologize for being (mostly) OK with it.

My point is that in our culture and in our personal lives, it’s easier to get rid of the big, obvious signs of discrimination and hatred than it is to get rid of the little, insidious reminders of it. Even unintentionally, with those little language cues, we’re telling each other “it’s OK to keep saying it’s wrong to be gay.”

This brings me to my own quest to get to 0%.  A lot of my friends still use the phrase “That’s so Gay!” as a term of ridicule or disgust. Think it’s harmless? They are essentially saying “Gay is bad.” Imagine replacing the saying with “That’s so black” or “That’s so Female”.  Why do we let it slide? 

My challenge to myself, in honor of London Pride weekend, is to finally put my buddies on the spot. Several of these guys are dads, and I wonder, do they consider that phrase swearing? If not, I wonder if they have considered that their kids are listening to them say “Being gay is bad. Being gay is wrong. I don’t like gay.” 

On the off chance (probably higher than many parents ever want to think about) that one of their own kids could be gay, I wonder if they ever considered what it will be like for their child to have grown up hearing their own dad say “What you are is wrong.”

Well, that’s me off my high horse. Here’s hoping I’ve prompted some head-scratching, maybe a little debate, and not provoked fisticuffs.

Happy Pride, true believers!