I’ve been living in Toronto for the better part of five weeks, and I have to say it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Hockey season has yet to begin, though, and I imagine as soon as Brian Burke’s crew of truculent third liners get off the golf course the city will become less bearable. Additionally, there has yet to be a concrete slab fall and kill anyone, which seems to suggest it could happen at any minute. However, I was down by Nathan Phillips Square the other day, and I saw Rob Ford beat a donkey to death with a copy of The Penelopiad. It was the paperback edition, but still, quite upsetting, especially for my 3- year-old niece.
I do miss Montreal, however. Well, a few Montrealers anyway. Plus, I can’t find a bagel or a decent batch of poutine. And having taken in a Jays’ game or two, I really miss Les Expos, but not the Big Owe. I even, kind of, miss French. And deps. Man, do I miss deps. How the fuck does one manage in this Beer Store and LCBO culture? It’s inhumane. It’s unreasonable.
Oh, and while I don’t care about the Giller and its fan noms, I do need 50K. So, as someone was kind enough to nom Distillery Songs, head over to CBC.ca and get me 50K. To vote for any other title would be counterproductive. For me anyway.
In the meantime, here’s a few links to some stuff and things, followed by Joshua Beckman reading “The Karate Chop of Love” for old time’s sake, and a barrel of chicken.
- McSweeney’s has a frickin food journal called Lucky Peach. World’s colliding.
- Grantland on the Calgary Stampede, where dudes in cool vintage shirts do unspeakable things to cattle. And they write about the Stampede, too.
- This deal with Oscar Pistorius (a double-amputee) making the South African team for the upcoming world championships is an amazing tribute to the human spirit. Anyone who says he has an advantage is an asshole, and, well, is an asshole.