Canadian Nationalist Identity

Two posts in one day? Way I see it, writing's a double-barreled shotgun and the only fools shooting one shell at a time are out of ammo. These days I'm armed to the teeth and freshly reloaded. Besides, should I run out, as I understand it's a double-edged sword too, so I'll just hack the bastards.

Here's the point, winter's coming, and with it people from India are whining about the cold (I'm not trying to stereotype, I just know there are certainly a few (you know who you are)). I love the winter, and by winter I mean cold, cold winter, although 35 minutes of biking every day will test that love, I'm sure. Luke-warm winters frustrate me.

I feel that in order to be a true Canadian, one must fulfill the following criteria:
1)embrace Canada's winter with loving arms
2)visit every province at least once (bonus points for Territories, but I wouldn't worry about it)
3)speak both English and French

I am aware that by my own criteria, I am not even half of a true Canadian, but I like the idea of growing into one's nationality. It means that immigrants can become true Canadians, and that's what I'm all about.

Cigarrettes don't cause Cancer, Cancer just wants to be cool

See, the way I figure it, popular opinion is about 79% incorrect these days, so going against any part of it is, in all probability, a good idea.

Popular opionion: smoking tobacco is savage and angry or whatever. It'll make you dead and ostracized from society, just like Creepy Uncle Cyrus.

Lies or at least half-liesprobably created this opinion, so, using lies, I'm going to try to reverse it. See, that line up at the top? Yeah, Timber said something to that effect in the Imprint office a couple days ago. I think its a good start to my campaign.

I mean that's the only way to get marijuana legalized, and I suppose I'm for that. Shit never hurt noone. That may be some vague kind of half-lie, but like I said above, its probably for the best. Of course popular opinion on pot is something of a quagmire these days, and vary's greatly depending on the room you stumble into all red-eyed and dudey. Some say that pretty much everyone thinks its ok and that those old stodgy lawmakers up in Ottawa are merely delaying the inevitable: Decriminalization. Balls-to-the-wall legalization.

I won't naiviely suggest that those options are ideal. I don't know if they'll be good for society, or if I even want them, what with the way the Government taxes and agressively PSAs against tobacco, I can't see them giving way to another smokable substance. Even if it gets you high. They're more likely to prohibit tobacco.

I find myself in a growing minority of non-smokers. I've gotten into the habit of going out for non-smoke breaks, sometimes with smokers, sometimes without.

Remember, half-lies are half-truths too.

...but getting tighter

I would say that the theme of this blog is pretty loose.

The metaphor is probably obvious. Mr. Shabby is my nickname for myself. To those of you fully immersed in the so-called "blogsphere" self-naming is part of the culture. I'm not so "savvy" that I don't feel a little silly for it. Still, I like it because these days, the only time you hear the word "shabby" is in that expression "not too shabby." Shabby on its own, while having its own meaning, still implies the expression. You can't imagine the "shabby" without the "not too." At least, I can't.

The next part, the pantry part, was a fluke, random metaphor, much less construed than the first. A pantry is a place where food is kept. Food is delicious or at least food sustains...

Like I said before loose, random, but for whatever reason at the time, I liked it, and never bothered changing it.

Loose, right? But there's only one reason to explain why there hasn't been a good post in eight months: The pantry has been empty.

Sometimes, quite literally.

A really random thing happened, then a lot of horribly unrandom things happened, and for one reason or another, the pantry has been stripped bare of everything but cobwebs and the mocking shelves themselves. And I did what anyone does with an empty pantry: nothing. For eight months.

Its starting to fill again. I'm regaining my grip on things. Thank you for fielding my metaphors.