Music is a funny thing. It’s only after reaching “adulthood” that I think I fully understood what people had meant all along by “being moved” by music, or when they said music was “like another language” that could speak to them. It doesn’t convey words or concrete concepts, but it does evoke emotions and impressions in the listener. So listening to music really isn’t the same as listening to someone speak or reading their written words, but some analogies hold. You can often tell when someone is a very good speaker or writer because you are compelled to follow their meaning, even though you might not agree or even understand their message. In the same way, some music just draws you in, regardless of its topic or lyrics.

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The weather has been pretty bipolar of late; things keep warming up well above zero, and then plummeting back down below freezing. But this week, I really thought it had warmed up for good. It had been sunny out for a day or so, and then rainy for another day when all the snow and ice that had built up over the past months was all washed away. So you can imagine our reactions when Care and I looked out the window last night and saw this (picture after the jump).

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Earlier this afternoon, I experienced one of those situations where time seems to stand still, and you don’t fully process what happened until after everything is over. The scene is this: downstairs in the Guy-Concordia metro station, around 4pm local time. The narrator of the story walks down the last flight of stairs to see the train on the opposite side pulling away, and settles in to wait for his own train to arrive by leaning against the wall. Enter stage left, on the opposite side of the railway from our narrator, an old man who bears a passing resemblance to a much older and less-well-kept George Carlin. The man is apparently homeless and seems mentally unstable, as he has been spotted in the very same metro station before. He is also very animated, perhaps even drunk, as on both occasions he has taken to waving his arms and flailing about, grumbling and shouting at nothing in particular.

Having finished waving and shouting at the departed train, the old man now returns to his flailing and dancing. After a few moments of this however he seems to tire, and moves to sit down on the floor. He then takes another few steps, and sits down on the very edge of the platform, with his legs dangling a few feet above the railway.

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Owning a cat is a little like owning having a kid, I imagine. Cats have their advantages of course: the poop is a bit easier to clean up, they cry a lot less, and they never talk back. Just like kids though, I find that our own cat is invariably less interested in new toys than in the packaging they came in. Or in this case, the packaging in which something else entirely came. Continue reading… »

I have my own set of websites that I check on a regular basis for new posts. Every morning before I’ve really woken up, or in the evening when I’m feeling a bit restless, I’ll mouse through my RSS feed to see if there is anything new on BoingBoing, Slashdot, MonkeyFilter or the like. Care has a decidedly different set of websites, one of which is the aptly named Cute Overload. There are an average of two incidents a day where I will be called into the other room (usually when I’m gaming, to boot!) to see some new video clip or photo of just the cutest thing imaginable. I’m fine with humouring her since I share stuff with her too that I’m sure she doesn’t care about. It’s my hope however, that I will receive enough credits with discovering and delivering this YouTube video entitled “It’s oh so cute!”, to replace several calls into the other room. I have to admit, I laughed out loud at several points - the music and video editing is very well put together, even if you aren’t the type to generally enjoy “cute”-themed videos.