I want a 200G hard drive in my head that records what I’m looking at with the flick of a thought. Then I could download some of the things I saw this morning like the guy in the alley near my house doing his best John Cleese “Ministry of Silly Walks” routine without knowing he was being watched.

Or the face of the homeless guy waiting in a sun soaked temporary work storefront, his stubbly chin sticking out of his hoodie, eyes hidden.

Or how the Scotia tower looks like the citadel from Half Life 2 on most mornings.

Or the sun casting a perfect font shadow in a sign making store.

Its amazing how beautiful things become when the temperature goes above -5C and there isnt a cloud in the sky.

Update:

I remembered this post thickslab made a couple days back where I commented that clandestine photography and posting to the web was a bit creepy. It would seem I contradicted myself a bit here. Every time we exit our houses we are open for scrutiny (and even home privacy is graying these days) yet while we maintain a certain level of moral code, our humanity peeks out every so often. One day I pointed out to Sharkboy a person who had his finger up his nose to the third knuckle while he waited at a light, blissfully unaware that the cab of his car had windows that allowed people to see in. Or that was his kink. Whatever.

You know the Simpsons episode where Kent Brockman previews a news clip by saying: “A new fad is sweeping the nation: Wasting Food!” and the guy in the video behind him tosses a whole plate of dinner into the garbage? Did you think that was funny? Then may I introduce to you a similar fad slowly growing with its own chapter here in Toronto: FreecycleTO. An email group that can yield some pretty hot booty if you’re fast enough.

I posted two old 7200 PowerPC Macs to the group and had them snagged up faster than I could hit refresh. Literally out of the basement where they were collecting dust for a year, within 5 minutes. No I didn’t expect any money for them. I could have put them to the curb and have them magically dissapear that way but there was the chance they’d be gutted and their remnants litter our street. This way I know they’re going to someone who wants/needs them, without the “garbage-picker!” chants from the kids in the neighborhood.

This gives Bill Gates, Ayn Rand and the Grinch acid reflux, I’m sure. There are under 4500 members in this group (that’s GTA Toronto, there’s a freecycle Cabbagetown too) all offering and asking for stuff at about 50-80 emails on average per day. Check it out.

Round the corner from my house is a small Korean Mom and Pop fish and chips operation. The interior has been painted over so many times the tin ceiling panels are almost flat now. There is an original 70s Pepsi ad of a dad and son on their stomachs, facing each other, sharing a soda and some manly advice. Slightly torn and yellowing posters explaining the difference between trout and salmon adorn the walls. There is a “No Credit” sign on the wall. The benches look like they were pulled from a burning church for midgets.

The Pop doesnt say a word. Slim and gaunt, he preps the fish in the batter and when it’s done, adeptly scoops it out of the fat and slops it into Mom’s draining mesh. Thats all Ive ever seen him do. The Mom is the personality of the duo, always greeting me with a loud “HELLO yeh!” and a plastered on smile. Something about her says she is perpetually in a state of nervous fast forward as if she will forget EVERYTHING if she doesnt get it done RIGHT NOW. She repeats your order 4 or 5 times when you tell her (“Fish yeh? fish! Fish!? Yeh?”). She adds a slight, terse “yeh” after her sentences. She expertly flips your order of fish twice so that there is an even coverage of vinegar over the slab of fried mercury and dough. She must have the last “Goodbye!” as you exit. Must! All of this is insignificant in comparison to her greatest need: to touch the tape dispenser several times before actually wrapping your order in the Tsing Tao Daily. Right on the counter is an old-style brown tape dispenser she uses to seal the newspaper. When I first started to go there I would count the times she would touch the tape and not pull one off, as it were. Once! Twice! Folds the paper over the bundle! Three times! More paper! Four…? Rip! Yes!

I eventually made a contest out of it with Sharkboy: “Who Would Get More Tape Touches?” I was winning at 5 touches when one day we went in and Sharkboy made an astute observation: she touched the dispenser, which was moist at the cutting edge, to wet her fingers so she can grab the newpaper that goes around the fish. It made sense. There was usually 3-4 sheets of newsprint around the order…

Damn it! There went a little quirky thing that I loved about a total stranger, right out the window. I honestly thought with all her idiosyncrasies, she had full on OCD.

I still play the “Goodbye Game” with her, thought. Ive only won once and that was by saying it really fast and slamming the door.

Daryl has an Arte Showee coming up, it seams (oh the puns!) This is the angry patches stuff that he creates that takes me back to when punk meant “angry as fuck!” and not “hey where’s my money!” He will be displaying his Propaganda Quilt at

Toronto Free Gallery
660 Queen St. East Toronto
(they dont have a website I think. I googled a foot fetish site from their name…)

From November 18th to December 22rd.

Get out there and see some Ahrt!