The Tao of Educational Insensitivity

Recently I ruminated on whether I had done anything racially insensitive in my past. I consider myself to be a cultured man, and one that is accepting of people of all creeds, and indeed that is the case. But, if I were to choose the closest I came to doing something racially insensitive, albeit unintentionally, it would be back in Grade 9 English.

You see, in February of whatever year that might have been we were all required to perform monologues as different African American luminaries. We put into groups based on the nature of the accomplishments of the individual we were assigned to present. I watched in horror as all of the people I would have wanted to present (MLK, Malcolm X, Muhammad Ali) were chosen. At that point I would have settled for any person that I could recognize by name, but alas as I watched Eli Whitney assigned to someone else all of the names on the list of presentations that I could recognize. I even missed George Washington Carver, I could have made an altogether wicked-smart peanut butter themed presentation for that guy.

Alas, when my person came to be assigned, I was actually somewhat surprised that I recognized the name: Booker T. Washington.


Booker T. Washington: Renowned African American scholar, civil rights leader, and founder of Tuskegee University

But of course the reason the name was familiar wasn't because I had a basic understanding of african american scholarship in the early-20th century, but rather because I thought I had been assigned to do a presentation on this guy:


Booker T: Pro-wrestler in the WWF

Luckily, I didnt make the mistake of doing my presentation on the wrong Booker T. No no, instead I committed a much larger blunder. Not knowing how to present Booker T. Washington, having never seen him on tv or anything of the sort I did what I thought was reasonable and presented my report on him disguised as this guy:


Mr T: Former bouncer, turned pro-wrestler, turned actor, turned fool pity-er

In retrospect probably not the best idea. I dont recall being admonished for this in class. But, really what I did was present a report on one of the most accomplished African American scholars of the past century, punctuating each sentence with "I pity the fool". The reason I recant now is if the guy that had gone on after me had presented a report on gandhi while punctuating each sentence with "thank you, come again" i'd probably be pretty offended, so I feel the need to get that out there.

The Tao of Intoxicated Screenwriting

Disclaimer: The following is probably not true

Over this summer, I had envious duty of screening a pool of potentially memory deficient geriatric newspaper subscribers for inclusion in a research study. The task was rather tedious, most of them had, amongst a host of other maladies, rather severe hearing problems, and those of them that could hear well enough became rather hostile upon making out that my last name sounded remotely Baa'thist.

The test battery these participants needed to successfully complete to be included in the larger study included a serious of tedious questions ranging from rather uncomfortable, such as repeatedly asking if the person enjoys using illegal drugs, to the bluntly insulting, such as five successive questions that with slight variation asked if the geriatric interviewee found elementary school to be too difficult for them.

To be fair, a good percentage of them were rather pleasant throughout but there was the majority that either became irritated or just didn't want the half-hour long test to end. Case in point a elderly pot smoker writing a script with the horrible contrived plot which sounds vaguely like a rip-off of the little-known, poorly-recieved "ski school" starring Jim Varney (of "Ernest goes to Camp/School/Jail/the Beach/doesn't go the to Beach" fame) but set in the world of surfing. Now for confidentiality reasons I will try to remain as vague as possible but he wants it to star the non-fat guy from "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles" and the non-funny guy that plays Jiminy Glick, who...I dunno he might actually have died already, not sure. But maybe I'm being to harsh, maybe its actually really funny. But its not and because he told me the title of his script and its the following, but -Up and +Down (Hilarious! get it? Its the opposite of what its supposed to be! Ironic right?!?!)





So really quite sad, a non-starter idea, and aiming for a dream cast of washed up actors, and to think he quit a legit job for this. Hearing from people like this make me feel a little less bad about wasting my time writing blog posts as I'm currently doing.

The Tao of Eccentric Academia

One of the professors for one of my classes uses tootsie rolls as both a reward and a punishment in an oddly similar way.

Pay attention in class and answer questions, and he rewards you by digging into his bucket of tootsie rolls and throwing a handful of them at you.

If he catches you dozing off, he punishes you by digging into his bucket of tootsie rolls and whipping them at you. You awake to the image of a distinguished academic with a prominent name tag dangling from his neck pelting you with halloween candy.

Did I mention that we all wear name tags?

For these reasons and more this is probably my favourite class ever.



On a related note, if one watches the famous Tootsie Roll commercial, aside from getting the feeling that Mr. Owl is kind of a dick, something else becomes apparent. If you look carefully "Mr. Owl" is clearly wearing a mortarboard (Graduation hat).



So, maybe this entirely explains Mr. Owl being a bit of a jerk. Because maybe Mr. Owl, isn't "Mr. Owl" at all. Maybe hes "Dr. Owl" or at least "Prof. Owl". So maybe when that insubordinate brat addressed him as Mister Owl, Doctor/Professor Owl decided that he didn't spend six years of his life working on his Ph.D. thesis and another three years in a Post-Doctoral Fellowship at one of the most prestigious academic institutions of owl-dom to be called "Mister" by some snot nosed kid that has trouble counting and took a bite out of that Tootsie Roll pop. Maybe if that commercial had gone on for a few seconds longer Prof. Owl would have flown down from his perch and slapped the kid for being disrespectful.

The Tao of Proliferative Acting

You may never have heard of Brian Dennehy, but odds are that youve seen him in at least a few films. The Husky character actor who's imdb page boasts over 150 roles including parts in Ratatouille, Cocoon, Rambo, Tommy Boy, and most notably the lead role in Death of a Salesman.

Brian Dennehy: corpulent character actor

While hardly an A-list star, and lacking any sort of recognition factors despite years of work, his acting has had a huge impact on his life, arguably more than any other actor. His impact on me rivals the impact he is seen making on the disco ball below.



Brian Dennehy specifically has had a huge impact on my career. Just over a year ago is when it happened, when I, way in over my head, was invited to an interview for a position that I really had scant chance if any of being offered. The following exchange actually happened, the players are The Interviewer (played by Meryl Streep), Me (played by Dustin Hoffman), My Brain (played by Krang, google it).

I: "Hello, sorry for the wait." (she introduces herself)

M: "Oh, no problem."

I: "So I see here that you're from Toronto"

M: "Yes, ma'am, my whole family lives there."

I: "Yes, its a lovely city, My husband and I go up there every year for the Stratford Theater Festival"

B: (Thinks back to a blurb in the Toronto Star from a few weeks back about Christopher Plummer playing Caesar in Caesar and Cleopatra this year at Stratford, then thinking back to Grade 12 English with Mrs. Burrows and her talking something idontknowwhat about Christopher Plummer in King Lear at Stratford)

M: :Ah, yes, are you looking forward to seeing Christoopher Plummer there this year? I read that he will be in Caesar and Cleopatra this year. I might add, he was quite good in King Lear a few years back."

I: "Oh indeed, Christopher Plummer is a fine stage actor. I'm very much looking forward to that. You know who else I think is great, that Brian Dennehy."

B: First Thought - (Mind is blown) Great Googly Moogly! Brian Friggin Dennehy I know that guy!

B: Second Thought - (Thinks back to Patton Oswalt's comedy album - Werewolves and Lollipops, where he talks about eating desserts with Brian Dennehy at the Batman Begins Premiere, where Brian Dennehy says “Character actors! Who gives a fuck if we’re fat?!”)



B: Third Thought - (Thinks back to South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut, specifically to the song "What would Brian Boitano do?" which features a non sequiter reference to the pudgy character actor at the 1:05 mark)



B: Fourth Thought - (Thinks back to watching Ratatouille and liking it so much that it warranted going home and reading the Wikipedia of the entire cast and crew of the film including - Brian Dennehy!)

M: "I totally agree, Brian Dennehy is a great character actor, ive enjoyed so much of his work, he was great as Willu Lohman in Death of a Salesman. And hes just so instantly recognizable from his work. Recently I was watching the children's film Ratatouille and it immediately came to me that he was voicing one of the characters."

I: "Oh absolutely hes just a grat character actor and so effective in those bit parts. I certainly hope to see you at Stratford this year"

M: (Politely nods, despite never having been to Stratford or veiwing any play that wasn't put on by second graders in an elementary school gymnasium)

After that, things went very smoothly and in the end everything worked out. And its all because of Brian Dennehy!

Brian Dennehy (seen on right) Helping another young man (Barack Obama?) on his path to acheiving something in 'A Season on the Brink' (2002).

The Tao of Confectionary Dramatization

"It's time. It's time for us to come together. It's time for us to rebuild a New Orleans, the one that should be a chocolate New Orleans. And I don't care what people are saying Uptown or wherever they are. This city will be chocolate at the end of the day."

- Former New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin, Following the tragedy of Hurricane Katrina

I will get to why I find the above quote to be of profound importance to me in a little bit, but in order to get to that I need to side track a little bit.

In a few weeks the 81st Annual Academy Awards will be taking place, and without a doubt the highlight of the ceremony will be Heath Ledger winning the Best Supporting Actor award for his performance as the Joker in Christopher Nolan's "The Dark Knight" (assuming of course that he does in fact win this, which I certainly feel is quite likely). Ledger's performance was something to behold, it stood on its own as a portrayal of a hyper-intelligent anarchist with resolute interpretations of the perceived morality of man. As well, it measured favourably as interpretation of one of modern literature's most iconic distillations of villiany, out shining Jack Nicholson and Ceasar Romero's takes on the character, and in doing so upstaging two character actors widely regarded as being in a class of their own.

Though Ledger has passed on he will be remembered through his work. Ledger was likely not an actor one would have ever considered for this role, but after this no one will soon for get him in this role.

The reason I mention this is not because I am feeling particularly sentimental, but rather because I fear that another one of modern literature's most iconic characters will not receive its own definitive performance. Nolan took a chance on Ledger even though he wasn't the obvious choice for the role, imagine how deprived cinema would truly have been had he not. Likewise one of these great character-actor, that could shake up the very foundation of cinema lies among us, but unfortunately Hollywood has chosen time and time again to deny movie goers the opportunity to experience the very type of magic films were created to convey.

The character I speak of? None other than Roald Dahl's whimisical dreamer, Willy Wonka. The actor? The answer and the reason why are located in the video below.



Anyone who is a fan of this man's work know that it is a downright shame that he has been denied this role. Both Gene Wilder and Johnny Depp did respectable jobs with what was a very challenging role, no doubt, but how can you deny the fact that this would be the perfect. If Tim Burton could only have had the foresight to have cast this living legend as Mr. Willy Wonka we would have had a movie so awesome that Hollywood's collective head would have exploded.

Getting back to the beginning quote we really need to think though, was Cosby overlooked for this role because of bigotry, and have we as a society gone far enough to overcome those prejudices. I say yes. If America can have a black president, and New Orleans can be rebuilt using chocolate as the primary building material, then I believe the world is finally ready to accept a Cosby as its Wonka.

He would have been so money in this role, because there are two things he can do better than anyone else in showbizness, perform on screen with kids in a remarkably non creepy way, and sell products of questionable health benefit for big paychecks. And when this guy shills for corporate America, he goes big or goes home, see below:



Did you just see that!?!?! Man does this guy commit to a performance no matter how much it may contribute to the childhood obesity crisis and the epidemic of type II diabetes in small children.

Alas, I must come to terms with the fact that this man, this magnificent master of corporate shillery, will likely never get the chance to play the role he was born to play. Partly because he is too old, and is no longer as limber and loose as a freshly chilled bowl of raspberry Jell-O as the part would undoubtedly require him to be. But more importantly I'm pretty sure hes too busy touring across America telling teenagers to pull up their pants and stop listening to rap music, all while wearing Sunglasses for some reason.

On that note I bid you farewell, for some reason I really have to urge to buy 35mm film for my old Kodak camera that I don't use anymore. Not sure why, something about colour safe dimples or something.

The Tao of Habitation Compensation

"How do you document real life when real life's getting more like fiction each day? Headlines, breadlines, blow my mind and now this deadline, eviction or pay. RENT!"



So begins the longest running broadway musical of all time, RENT. I would just like to start off by mentioning that this blog really has at best a tenuous connection to the broadway musical RENT and even less to do with broadway musicals being gay. What exactly do singing and dancing have to do with being gay, other than the fact that all three of those things are in the musical RENT? Exactly. My point being theres nothing wrong with liking the musical RENT, that "Seasons of Love" is pretty badass, not that I would necessarily know anything about that.

On to the actual topic of my blog: RENT (the act of paying money to live somewhere, not the broadway musical that is based on this practise). Specifically a story about getting ones first apartment. Now, this may or may not actually have happened to me. Like most things I talk about, theres a good chance that this actually happened to someone else I know, someone else that probably doesnt know that I have a blog. And for that latter reason I will relate this story to you as if this may or may not have happened to me, it may have happened to a close friend of mine that doesnt know about the existence of my blog, or it may be a complete fabrication, only time will tell.

A young man, in his early 20s, not particularly attractive, with an unnaturally dry scalp has just made the decision to move out of his parents apartment for work elsewhere. With but a few scant weeks of summer left before he starts down a new career path he travels down to closer to the vicinity of his new place of employment with his family to find an apartment he can rent.

All great things happen in threes, like the Back to the Future trilogy, so he finds three apartments to scout out one weekend. The first one he goes to he finds too uninviting, the building is very dirty, it looks like its in a demilitarized zone and the building superintendant has a cigarett affixed to his lips, a snake tattoo on his arm and just one of those looks that says, I have the keys to every apartment in this builidng so dont be shocked if you get an unwelcomed surprise visit from me in the middle of the night. As they say in south central LA, thats one cold bowl of porridge homie.

Unhappy with how the first encounter went the young man and his family go to the next apartment, located in a much more serene part of the city. There they are greeted by a kindly old shoemaker who is renting out the main floor of his small house. The man seems pleasant enough, and while the bed and chair of the room he is rent out seem a tad bit too cofortable the young man is intrigued by the offer, if only to be off put by the fell meaning intrusiveness of the clearly dim witted yet kindly old shoemaker.

Upon leaving the apartment the young man recieves a phone call from the old shoemaker suggesting that he is prepared to cut his rent in half if the young man agrees to twice weekly tutor his daughter who one can only assume is somehow horribly flawed in one way or another. This event highlights the earlier mention of the elderly shoemaker being remarkably dim witted, a point to be mentioned again later in this story. The young man listens to this offer and considers it. Given his options, this offer is considerably warmer porridge than what else he had available.

Shortly before entering his third and final potential apartment he recieves yet another call from the old shoemaker this time with the financially retarded proposition of letting the young man live in his house for free on the condition that he tutor his daughter (likely defective) twice weekly. This second phone call from the dim witted shoemaker though clearly with a genuinely impressive if not dim witted offer made the young man realize what is all too often heards in the streets of south central LA, 'thats some hawt porridge yo......bitch, pay my bills'. Pay my bills indeed. Out of fear of being of being sold as a love slave to the dimwitted yet kindly old shoemakers daughter (read: no refund policy), the young man realized that this porridge was clearly too hot for his liking and politely turned down the offer.

But like a modern day Goldilocks he soldiered on to the third apartment. The apartment was in the city's infamous 'hookers and pie' district. While there was plenty of pie to be had by all, and good pie at that, there would be the odd hooker too, so it had both good and bad. Having found a living accomodation he could live with he happily accepted this as his new place of residence, now that porridge is just right! As well the woodsman killed the wolf with his axe freeing granny from his stomach whom he supposedly ate whole.

Whats that? You want an encore?

"Theres only now, theres only here. Give in to love, or live in fear. No other path, no other way. No day but today!"

The Tao of Antepenultimate Chronology

Yes the title is probably grammatically incorrect, its supposed to mean the 3rd last item in a list of chronological events. In this case specifically Friday, the 3rd last day of the week (Assuming that you start counting from Monday as opposed to Sunday at which point Friday is simply the penultimate day of the week, true story). As well this blog about Fridays is being written on a Wednesday evening.

I think I'm starting to develop an obsession with Fridays, not just Friday as a day of the week but Friday as a philosophy around which one may base their life. This impetus for this obsession began as a was stocking up on Post Honey Bunches of Oats, on sale at Food Basics for the criminally low price of $1.66 per box. Right then I heard "Friday, I'm in love" by the Cure playing over the speakers, probably having heard it once before but not remembering the name of the song or who it was by I googled some of the lyrics when I got home to find the song.



Now since this is a pop song its likely about being in love with someone on a friday, or since its a song by the Cure theres a good chance this song is somehow about unhappiness, but im convinced its actually about the love and downright obsession (Both emotional and physical) of lead singer Robert Smith has for the 5th day of the week. In the past few days i've come to share this obsession. I now love Fridays the way Garfield hates Mondays.

I don't care if Mondays blue, Tuesdays grey and Wednesday too, oh Thursday I don't care about you its Friday that I love. To many people Fridays are payday. Often times for me Fridays are exam day.

I dont care if Mondays black, Tuesday, Wednesday heart attack, oh Thursday never looking back, Its Friday that I love. But more importantly to me Friday is a way of life, a philosophy if you will. Its the idea of an otherwise forgettable event, or even exceptionally difficult event being made not only bearable but downright enjoyable by the events that may potentially follow it. Like sitting through 5 minutes of Leno and not really minding the fact that youre facing a painfully mediocre assault on your senses simply because youre minutes away from Conan.

Monday you can fall apart, Tuesday Wednesday break my heart, oh Thursday doesnt even start, its Friday that I love. The idea of Friday is that no matter how hard what you do on Friday is you wont have to do it on Saturday, so its bearable because its finite.

Monday you can hold your head, Tuesday, Wednesday stay in bed, oh Thursday watch the walls instead, its Friday that I love. But as with a lot of theories you can take this one to far, if you spend all week waiting for Friday, you'll miss the good stuff that happens on the other days even if its not always enjoyable.

On a final note, apparently Robert Smith took a lot of heroin and psychadelic drugs when writing songs for the Cure, then why does his song sound like something Rick Astley would write?