Statement from Greg Elborne

My good buddy @GregElborne asked me if he could use my blog to issue a public apology in light of some unfortunate "social" media (yeah, right!) posts that he has made recently.  Being highly territorial, I usually don't tolerate guest posts on this site.  However, the Greg-meister caught me in a good mood today.  And honestly, this whole thing smacks of something that his wife (the lovely Marilyn) is forcing him to do, which is kind of pathetic. So, basically out of pity, I am going to allow it just this once.  Here is Greg's statement:

Dear Twittersphere and Facebookland,

Please accept my apology for the tweet and accompanying facebook post that I made recently, insinuating that the city of Toronto has some kind of drinking problem, and the subsequent hostile exchange that ensued between myself and popular talk show host (and veritable Canadian icon) Jian Ghomeshi. The truth of the matter is that when I am overtired, I have an unfortunate tendency to issue derogatory tweets dissing individuals, institutions, and geographical areas. This is an undeniable character flaw of mine that I need to work on improving.

Furthermore, I wish to extend this apology to the following individuals, institutions, and/or geographical areas that I may have offended in any of my social media interactions over the past few years:

• Arash Madani
• Ryan Seacrest
• the late Dick Clark
• The Mormon Tabernacle Choir
• Ryan Nugent-Hopkins
• The Vatican
• Conspiracy Theory Debunkers
• Debunkers of Conspiracy Theory Debunkers
• The Wild Rose Party of Alberta
• Christians
• Toronto, Ontario
• Edward de Vere, aka the 17th Earl of Oxford, aka "William Shakespeare"
• Anyone that I may have referred to (either directly or indirectly) using any derogatory term including (but not limited to): douchebag; fucktard; douchetard; tardbag; and/or tardhole.

Note that this apology does not apply to:

• Toronto-based sports teams
• Jay Leno
• Rick Astley

Sincerely,

Greg Elborne

Touamoto's Dream

I have been playing around with Audacity, and have (for better or worse) resurrected this timeless old gem from Touamoto's brief foray into pop music back in the mid 80's. I offer it here for the sake of posterior. My apologies for any incontinence.

The Dream (2009 Remix)

Zero Divided By Zero

The following is the transcript of a 3-way argument that I had with myself yesterday:

anything divided by itself is 1, so 0/0 = 1.
no, 0 divided by anything is 0, so 0/0 = 0.
no, anything divided by 0 is undefined, so 0/0 = nothing.
by nothing do you mean zero?
no.
why?
zero is defined, nothing is undefined.
so everything is defined then?
what?
you just said nothing is undefined.
no, i meant that nothing implies undefined.
something must imply undefined.
what?
doesn't the phrase "having no meaning" imply undefined?
yes.
so you admit that you're wrong then?
huh?
you said that nothing implies undefined, but yet something does imply undefined.
he's right!
that's not what i meant!!
what did you mean then?
nothing.
zero?
auuuugggghhhhh!!! [sic]

What the %$#@! is the matter with me?  Please don't say "nothing"!

The Groundhog and the Equinox

My friend Kirby is getting all uppity about the prolonged cold spell up here in the frozen tundra. Coincidentally George Stroumboulopoulos did a bit about this on last night's - The Hour (watch from 3:40 to 6:00).

Unfortunately, Kirby's rant got me thinking about the weather and the seasons. I live in a place (Edmonton) where the weather is not constrained by anything so arbitrary as the date on a calendar. Up here, anything goes, anytime. It is quite possible to experience *every* type of weather there is, all within the span of a long lunch. It keeps one on one's toes, er ... flippers.

Like Kirby, I too grew up on the Canadian prairie. I actually grew up even farther north than Kirby did (by about half a block), so I feel that makes me more qualified than he to speak out on this issue. I've never had much of a problem with Groundhog day, but something that has always bugged me (along a similar vein), is the notion that the winter solstice marks the *first day* of winter. Sorry, but in my books "Christmas-time" is the *middle* of winter. Always has been, always will be (... in this hemisphere anyways).

If we take it that the solstices and equinoxes mark the *middle* of the seasons, then the start of each season would be about 6 weeks before the corresponding celestial event. That means the beginning of each season corresponds pretty closely to the start of the months of May, August, November, and February (which, on account of my tusks, I am forced to pronounce as "febbie-airy"). Which is why Groundhog day makes some sense to me. I believe that some wise people "way back when" were thinking along these lines ...

"So does spring start at the beginning of February, or the middle of March?"
"I dunno ... I'm good with either one I guess."
"Well, what do we tell people?"
"Hmmm ... I've got it!! We'll get a groundhog, see ..."

I'm sure you can see where it went from there. It ended like this:

"So he sees his shadow, and then what? It's spring?"
"Nope. Winter, for 6 more weeks."
"Oh, ok. Yeah that works."
"Yep. And Toronto sucks."

And so ever thus it has been.

The Subway Address

I went out for lunch with my friend Touamoto Sakimata-Smith this week, to a local Subway restaurant. I'm afraid that Touamoto may have been a tad "over-inspired" by the inauguration of Barack Obama on Tuesday. Here's what he had to say when it was his turn to order:

Thank you for this opportunity to be served by your respected and honourable establishment.

I stand before you today as a man of free will. A man who has been called upon to make a choice. A choice borne of hunger, but radiating with a higher purpose.

The hunger that calls me here today is more than just a hunger to feed and nourish the body. It is a hunger to rise above the petty and selfish concerns that, left unchecked, can darken the spirit of the soul. A hunger to leave behind the dreary pursuit of material concerns, and to be with like-minded brothers and sisters, of all races, creeds, and backgrounds, who have come here together to share in a common purpose. A hunger to uplift and ennoble those who have toiled to produce and deliver the choices now presented here before us - the bakers of the breads, the harvesters of the vegetables, the butchers of the meats.

Some among us will argue that free will does not exist. That the choices presented to us in the course of our daily activities are mere illusions. And that our fate has been predestined by ancient and powerful forces beyond our control. I reject this premise as false. For to surrender our will to the fates, to casually abandon our responsibility to choose wisely and to choose well, to apathetically shrug our shoulders and wonder "what does it matter?", is for us to admit defeat. And at this critical juncture of our history, I call upon men and women of free will everywhere to vigilantly defend ourselves from this defeat. So that when future generations are called upon to decide, they may look upon us a shining beacon of guidance. Let them say that we did not falter, we did not abdicate our responsibility, we did not lose our will. When called upon to decide, we chose.

And so my friends, the time has come to choose. Let us ask ourselves, at this moment, at this place, is the choice between "Marinara Meatball" and "Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki" really any different from the choice between justice and oppression, between compassion and brutality, between charity and greed? In deciding between "Whole Wheat" and "Italian Herb", must we not call upon our better angels to guide us to make the decision with grace and dignity? Not with malice towards any of the options left unchosen, but with an undying conviction that all options are to be granted the due consideration, deliberation and respect of which they are worthy ...

Awww, crap! I forgot my wallet at home. Never mind.

I "forgot my wallet" too (hey, it was supposed to be his turn to buy!), so we had to leave. The people in line behind us were grateful.