Bombay Martini with a Rainbow Chaser

Yup, winter is over. I gather from seeing Game of Thrones memes that for fans of the series that saying’s never quite true, you just have two seasons: bodies don’t rot and bodies do rot. But here in BC (as opposed to AD or even AC/DC) it’s rainbow season, and that’s a good thing.

It’s a rather paranoia-making, creepy-ass thing when you take off from Tsawwassen Ferry Terminal and the mainland vanishes altogether in the mist mere moments after departure. Mountains and all. And them are some big-ass mountainry, I’m saying. It’s even more paranoia-making and creepy-ass when your large industrial ferry is tailed by rainbows all the way through Active Pass, whereupon they execute a 90 degree turn and follow you to Swartz Bay Ferry Terminal.

And speaking of paranoia, why doesn’t Foursquare work on BC Ferries? Eh? Are they really some sort of extra-dimensional transport and the aliens have to block those servers lest we realize we’re really disembarking at a cunningly camouflaged space/ferry port on, say, a minor planet in the Alpha Centauri system?

It’s important to ask the right kinds of questions, in this crazy, mixed-up world. Seriously, when aliens are sending rainbows to trail us for all the world as if they were masterfully inconspicuous master spies…

We're er, tourists from Seattle, baby!

We’re er, tourists from Seattle, baby!

I mean, it’s like being tailed by a herd of airborne My Little Ponies. Honestly, look at this. Aliens! Bitches (or Assholes, as appropriate), please!

Double Sunset Rainbow & BC Ferry Spirit of British Columbia at Swartz Bay Terminal, Vancouver Island

Oh. Wait.

I know what this is.

They have had enough.

Just as in the Olden Time, meaning about the start of April in 2007, the Little People, and by that we do not mean anyone with a reality show about life on the farm, however awesome that show is (even if he IS kind of a dick), are preparing their return. Last time they were turned off by the overwhelmingly unscientific reaction, when the entire world rejected their very existence, physical proof and photos with POLICE EVIDENCE BAGS, HELLO! be damned.

The fairies are back. Prepare to be pixielated!

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OpHippie: the shopping situation

Well, I went and did it. I didn’t mean to, but I did it.

I spent the bus fare home.

How? One “buying pizza for a friend” and one trip to Army Navy for supplies. That’s all it takes to zero out the bank account lately: a pizza with wine and a months worth of batteries.

Well, actually:

4 D batteries for LED lamp
The cheapest LED lamp they had
4AA batteries for the headlamp, making midnight firewood runs with the wheelbarrow much, much easier
A paperback on living off the sea by a local fisherman
Three space blankets to use as wallpaper to keep the heat in
One fluorescent poncho
One fish grilling basket
Three candles
A lighter
Garden trowel for clam digging

And that’s it. That’s all it takes. $85.81. So I emailed my ex-boss to see if he could pay the remainder he owes me tonight or tomorrow instead of month’s end. Wish me luck!

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BIL Conference Vancouver this weekend!

raincoaster:

Getting back in the public speaking saddle this weekend with the all-volunteer BIL conference. Great people doing great things.

Originally posted on raincoaster media:

BIL conference

BIL conference

You’ve heard about TED. Have you heard about BIL?

BIL is the quirky, populist, unconference known as the ad hoc analogue to TED. Open to the public and fully participant driven, our yearly gathering features a wild mix of technologists, scientists, artists, hackers, and those with a passion for community awareness, social entrepreneurship, and innovation. BIL emerged from a community of people who aspire to change the world for the better- everyone is on equal standing and we meet to share ideas, problems that need solving, and discoveries we are excited about with a quite diverse national and international crowd. Our attendees are our speakers and our speakers are our attendees and in true unconference style, attendees are responsible for shaping the conference itself through their participation.

BIL is organized and observed by the participants. BIL emerged from a community of people who aspire to change…

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Fabulous Fascists!

Prince is the KING of fashionable fascists

Prince is the KING of fashionable fascists

I forget who said it (when in doubt, blame Diana Vreeland) but it’s true: fascists have the best uniforms. Imagine what they could do if they really let themselves go!

They could do this. From Pseudonymous (for obvious reasons) Middle Eastern Internet Artist Saint Hoax comes the ultimate recipe for a dictator.

The recipe for an iconic queen:
1- Flamboyant name
2- Fierce persona
3- Defining outfits
4- Personalized hairdo
5- A trademark feature
6- One hell of a PR teamI then realized that it takes that same exact effort to make a leader.
A rush of images containing Hitler’s mustache, Bin laden’s headgear, Obama’s campaigns, Saddam’s narcism crossed through my mind. It got me thinking that behind every “great” man, there’s a queen.Like drag queens, political/religious leaders are expected to entertain, perform and occasionally lip-sync a public speech.
But unlike drag queens, the fame hungry leaders don’t know when to take their costumes off.

Hitleria Hysteria

Hitleria Hysteria

Queen Abby

Popette Benny Madame O'Sane Georgia Buchette Vladdy Pushin Ossie B Baricka O'Bisha Kimmy Jungle

Blame Artax!

Blame Artax!

Blame Artax!

The NeverEnding Story is a childhood classic with a neverending potential for discussion. Last week, we discussed how it’s all Artax’s fault that the generation that saw this as children turned out to be completely fucked up. Stupid horse! If you’d just stayed cheerful in the Swamps of Sadness (what, they don’t have bubblegum pop playlists in Fantasia?) you’d have made it out alive, a generation would not have wasted their adolescence pretending to be Fiona Apple and Trent Reznor, and Atreyu would have saved the world a helluva lot faster, you goddam waste of alfalfa!

Emo pony doesn't care about your sugar. Life IS lumps, sweetie.

Emo pony doesn’t care about your sugar. Life IS lumps, sweetie.

This week, we bring you the last thoughts of the late Artax, emo basketcase and (formerly) living proof that man’s best friend is a dog, not a goddam equine.

I’m feeling pretty crummy, if I’m honest with myself. And sort of…melon…what’s that word? Melatonin? Melancholy, that’s it. Boy, I gotta start doing the crossword again, my vocab’s gone to shit.

‘Course I never was the sharpest nail in the horseshoe.

Is the mud getting deeper or is it just me? It is just me. Atreyu! I’m, like, four feet tall all of a sudden. What the heck?

It…it just gets worse from there. Go on. Read the whole thing.