TO SPEAK OF A THING IS TO SPEAK THE THING ITSELF: - 23rd May 2006

Woke up before sunrise this morning - starkly convinced that, atop my usual duties at the office, I was a Mossad operative responsible for organizing Munich retribution. Sat in bed for thirty minutes excitedly contemplating how I was going to integrate these new duties into my existing workflow - would a promotional campaign for that New Super Mario Bros. title allow me to justify the trip to Damascus I'd been putting together sub rosa? Felt pleasantly productive and heroic, whopping erection.

Was at the cottage for the latter half of this weekend, after spending Friday and Saturday wrestling with contraception. The wind was furious, the chill in the air psychotically unseasonal. Things got so bad on Sunday, in fact, that three people died just off the Haldenby Island Homestead. Odd to wake up to hear your backwood spattered across the CBC - all part of some live-action horror roleplaying fiction?

As for that first half of the weekender - I felt as if I was falling into some sort of strange socio-biological experiment. As part of a culture and species where I perceive that mates are often chosen for congenitally undesirable traits, it only makes sense that they could also be rejected for featuring more biologically beneficial ones. Whether rooted in a snapping condom or hypervigilant sperm, rejection of a partner based on virility or unlucky fertility seems a distinct possibility. Does this represent a strange mix of the natural human sexual evaluation process with values of high culture, or a rejection of natural selection entirely? Whatever the case, thank YOU levonorgestrel.

While you just can't go wrong with three succinct paragraphs, I didn't know where to squeeze in Saturday's Architecture in Helsinki concert - which was absolutely riveting. Their new material is drifting into a bizarre territory between Graceland, Terry Riley, and saucy poppyseed vinaigrette. Certainly succeeded in getting my ass shaking.