DOWN WITH THE GATEKEEPERS OF IDEAS

I was just thinking about the concept of intellectual property. How can anyone own an idea? Although I am not part of Gneration i, the first generation to fully grow up with access to the web, I have never thought about buying an idea or experience. When I went out and bought a record, I have always thought that I was paying for something tangible. Be it the the album art and packaging, or the record itself, It was something solid. Same with a book, I was paying for the form in which I take in the idea, not the idea itself. In the past, many evil greedy men have locked up information for profit. I believe that practice, of locking away information, is innately inhuman. As humans we survive and better ourselves through the sharing ideas, and the collision of ideas.

This is why the internet is so powerful. The ability to reach so much information, in the comfort and privacy of our homes is, at worst good for developing the desire for higher pleasures in an individual, and at best very dangerous for the elite that own us all. For more information on intellectual property, please download Steal this Film II. What do you have to lose?... its free.

STEAL THIS BLOG!

I spent today, the last day of 2007, reflecting on the life of Abbie Hoffman. From his book, Steal this Book, to his public demonstrations, look up what he did on Wall Street, there is so much to admire in a person of ideals and action, especially within our disillusioned and desensitized generation. I would say more on the man, but I couldn't do him justice, and there is a certain magic in discovering Hoffman on your own. So after you recover from your New Year hangover, Wikipedia Abbie Hoffman... It will be good for you.

Memories Of Montreal

I was going through my photos of this year, and found this pic of my sister and I at the Of Montreal concert. The freak in the middle is Kevin Barnes, the eccentric front man of the band. Thinking back now, this may have been my favorite show of the year. If you ever get the chance to go and see Of montreal, don't hesitate. I didn't get my tickets before hand and almost missed the show. The band's neo-psychedelic-indie-pop sound is something that must be enjoyed live.

I Heart to Hate Xmas

So around 5 p.m. I got together with two of my best friends to have our traditional last xmas smoke out, which was the third of the day, if i counted the 3 a.m. smoke out with my homegirl and the noon smoke out with another old friend, before dinner with our respectable families. While waiting for a traffic light, on the corner of 112 St. and 107 Ave., one of my friends noticed that the girl in the car next to us was smoking a blunt. As soon as we all agreed that she was indeed smoking a blunt we were all filled with this bubbly joy, that only a lone female blunt smoker can bring out in a guy. We instantly started a shouting conversation, across our cars, with the girl. Disoriented by our fast talking, she gave one of my boys a roach. She was probably trying to calm us down, but as soon as she gave us the roach, she pulled out another blunt. That, my friends, was irresistible. We quickly all agreed that we had to smoke with this girl. My friend tells her to follow us for a quick smoke out, and surprisingly the girl was down. So I quickly tell her the address and she followed...

We all get out of the car and introduce ourselves, and then walk into our friends house. We sit in the kitchen, as i quickly go to work on a spliff. I spark and, of-course, pass the spliff to the new girl, hoping for some sort of complement, which I didn't get. We smoke and make some small talk. Then i get to work on another spliff, this time bigger and better than the last. I was gonna keep working for that complement as if my life depended on it. Sadly the girl never experienced the second, improved, spliff. She was on the way to her family dinner, before we so rudely interrupted her. I kindly walked her out to her car, sad goodbye, and of-course asked for her number. As I walked back into the house, and saw the faces of the two friends that had experienced the random bliss of the smoker community with me, I could not help but feel victorious. We had all played our parts out correctly, and were now rewarded with, at the least, a great story.

FREE AT LAST

My semester has ended, and it is that time again, to reflect on what I have learned in the passed 16 weeks. The answer, of course, is nothing. Which is to be expected in this hustle known as the American Education System. Well that is not completely true. I like my career choice, although it was not my first choice, its pretty hands-on and creative. Sadly, my field of study does not completely satisfy my desire to know the unknown. I leave that up to human interaction, and independent studies. And this semester I discovered great musicians like Tokyo Police Club, The Wombats, Just Jack and Matthew good, artist like Eric Bailey and Claudio Ethos, and writers like Christopher Hitchens through what I like to call urban exploring. But my greatest discover was realizes that for two and a half years I was lusting over an ideal that never really existed. Luckily, I have come out of all this much better than how I came in. I guess it can all be summed up with the phrase “live and learn”. But now that school is out and all the kids are back in town for the holidays, its time to put my brain away for a couple of weeks, and make some bad decisions with my peers. I have a good feeling about this winter break. Its time to rage.

Divine Rebellion

The recent rioting in France fills me with joy. There is nothing in this world as satisfying to me as youth rebellion. It is almost spiritual, may I dear call it Divine, when the young oppressed masses, and the children of the oppressed, gather with content by the ashes of a simple catalyst. Be it martyrdom, like the spark that rekindled the French rioters, or simply unconformity. All civil unrest is beautiful to me.

Sadly in the U.S. our desire to rebel has been breed out of us. But that doesn’t mean that we don’t rebel in our own way. The unifying theme in all rebellions is the willingness of the individual to sacrifice what little they have, usually their lives, to right an injustice. It all comes down to the words of Patrick Henry, “give me liberty or give me death”.

The Transcendental Idealism of Artificial Chemicals

It's about 3:30 AM, and I'm half stoned half naked and coming down from my adderall rush while listening to Matthew Good. Sounds like a party right? Wrong. For most of my life I have been completely against artificial chemical highs. I've always found the "War on Drugs" to be hypocritical. How do we dare look down on the local pothead while praising the coked up executive and his tranquilized wife? The American Dream is a nightmare forcing us to self-medicate just to make daily life bearable. Or maybe I'm just upset that I can't bear the monotony of my school work without adderall.