I really don’t feel like blogging right now.
Probably because it’s beginning to work.
I feel genuine change is afoot and so my broken down old depression is kicking up one hell of a fuss, dragging its heels as I drag it off into a well deserved oblivion.
Good. Its tortured screams please me. Music to my ears.
It knows I’ve made a breakthrough or two lately and it can feel the ground shifting underneath its feet and knows that means the end is coming for it.
And there’s nothing as dangerous as a dying dinosaur. Especially when it knows it is the last of its kind and after this, it will be extinct.
Well good fucking riddance. Welcome to the La Brea tar pit. Here’s your anchor.
So go ahead and fight it, you morbid malignancy of the mind. Knock yourself out. Make your grand dramatic last stand like a good supervillain. Give it all you got.
Because no matter what you do, you’re still gonna die in the last act of the movie, and I’m still gonna ride off into that sunset and have a hell of a lot more fun without you.
And go ahead and try to get me to back off by inflicting pain. It won’t work any more because I have got this shit rigged now.
The more you make me suffer, the angrier I will get at you, and the harder I will wring your filthy little neck.
You’ll only be hurting yourself.
And that’s fine by me.
That other life of mine
Meanwhile, in the life I actually live (for now), I have been playing a lot of Elder Scrolls Online, aka that game I’ve played for over 1600 hours.
It is the only MMORPG I have ever found to be worth my time, so it kind of makes sense that it ended up being worth so much of it.
I recently used some of the Crowns I accumulated back when I had an ESO Plus membership to buy the Clockwork City DLC, and it’s been a lot of fun.
I really loved the Skyrim mod this ESO expansion is based on, so it was a no brainer that it would be one of the first DLCs I got.
I’m running through the main plotline right now. It’s got high level intrigue, very nasty Daedric monsters, evil cultists, a missing Living God (not Vivec), and a whole bunch of hilarious talking crows.
Not that there’s anything wrong with them in my books. I used to listen to this song off our Disney storybook albums when I was a kid and I thought the crows were awesome!
I didn’t know anything about racism back then. The idea that they were supposedly caricatures of black people would never have occurred to me.
Ah, such innocence.
And they still don’t seem like bad people to me. They still seem like a fun if somewhat rowdy group of people who truly care about poor ol Dumbo.
So in my heart of hearts, they will never be racist or negative.
But um, I don’t expect anyone else to see them that way.
Because objectively speaking, they are racist AF.
More after the break.
Hey there America!
Hey America! What’s it like to live in Canada’s basement? 🙂
Just kidding. I’m just yanking your chain. Forgive me.
But you drive us Canadians so crazy that we have to poke fun at you now and then just to keep what remains of our sanity intact.
Having you as our “older brother” can be nerve wracking because you lurch from sane and heartbreakingly noble to crazy and alarmingly evil so wildly that we who are, for the most part, helpless to do anything but watch are in for one hell of a roller coaster ride.
And trust me, we’re watching. America watching is the true number one Canadian pastime. You’d be watching too if you were the mouse in bed with an elephant, as one of our greatest prime ministers put it.
In a situation like that, you bet your bippy that the mouse is going to watch the elephant’s every move just to make sure we don’t get stepped on.
But more to the point, to be honest, America, y’all are damned entertaining.
It’s a non stop reality show mixed with the wildest damned soap opera ever down there from the point of view of us Canadians.
In the neighborhood that we call the free world, you’re the crazy neighbours everyone talks about. Nobody knows what you’ll do next, but it’s bound to generate a lot of hot gossip as we all try to figure out what the flying fudge is wrong with y’all.
Not that we’re blind to your suffering. Our heart goes out to you all the time. You’re our close kin, after all. We’re not the same but we’re a hell of a lot alike. Same variety of English, same food, same culture, same traditions, and broadly speaking, the same basic way of looking at the world.
Side by side, it’s abundantly clear how different we are.
But compared to the rest of the world, we’re almost twins.
We’re the New Zealand to your Australia. The Austria to your Germany. The Belgium to your France, Switzerland, and Germany.
And while as a Canadian I will always find it galling to be mistaken for an American (sorry), even I must admit that from afar, the family resemblance is uncanny.
When you look at it that way, we’re all each other has. No other culture is anywhere near as alike as our two.
And like all close family relationships, it has problems. Issues. Drama. More for us than for you because most of the time, y’all forget we’re even here.
And even when you do think of us, you know so little about us that you end up stumbling around and giving us second hand cringe when you try to relate.
Don’t sweat it. I think, on the whole, Canadians are quite happy to be ignored by you.
We’ve seen what happens to countries you take an interest in.
Just kidding, America. See? We’re friend again.
But um, we’ll just hold on to your car keys for now.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.