“… if you do that and you do it convincingly, you walk out of here and we give you a half a million dollars. Kay? If you don’t do it convincingly, I take you out back and run my fucking tractor over your head the rest of the day”
The problem with laptop music is ironic: there’s too much freedom to make music. As a result, the ability to finetune samples, cut’n paste loops and micromanage the music to the point that the performance is lost and somehow, the songs all sound the same if they don’t outright suck. Maybe everyone’s using the same software or they’re trying to copy or outdo other people’s sound.
For well over ten years, the Finnish duo Pan sonic (which I will still call Panasonic to the very end) have been going ultra analogue yet insanely hifi. Using handbuilt instruments, Mika Vainio and Ilpo Väisänen turn their dials and fade their switches to make their music live. No keyboards, no loops, no dropped beats. The closest thing you could label it would be "experimental techno" but that doesn’t even begin to describe how utterly alien their songs are. Although they recently moved to Berlin from their recent base in Barcelona, their sounds always bring to mind the splendid desolation of the Finnish winter and the pent-up frustration of vicious loneliness.
Their latest release is Kesto which is Finnish for permanence or something that lasts a long time. Kesto consists of 4 full albums, each coming in its own cardboard slipcase and each with its own style. This is like no multi-album release you’ve run into before, unless you happen to find a cheap used box set somewhere. Kesto lives up to the alternate definitions: endurance, strength, quantity.
The first disc’s got the heavy beats. Massive square sound waves against distorted percussion lead the way, hammering the senses like a construction site planted in your skull. This harkens back to their days organizing raves, doing the pure techno beat. Then again, they never really cut the wax live, preferring to punish the floor with unrelenting sounds. Listeners beware: listening to any of Pan Sonic’s music at high volumes will cause ear and stereo damage. Listening to their music live may cause bowel disruption. (Seriously — I’ve seen them live twice and I’ve been thankful I had earplugs, based on what happens to those in the audience who forgot.) At the same time, this is Pan Sonic at its most conventional where the two layers of sound guide each other, moving through section with slow monumental buildups.
Disc two is less intense, although it maintains its industrial roots with the first disc. The melodies are clearer and less distorted, adding some serenity with the constant menace. It’s occasionally as pastoral as Boards of Canada, although there’s no nostalgia involved. At times, there’s a charm harkening back to the early sound pioneers Throbbing Gristle, who get their own dedication on this disc. Pan Sonic is fairly aloof although they rightly manage to get themselves out of the way of their music and leave the explanations elsewhere. All the song names are blunt and carry no sentimental attachment: even in its original Finnish language, the words are technical in nature ("distance", "current transformer", "telemites", etc.). Still, the songs have their own internal logic and build up their drama accordingly.
The odd disc out is the third one. This disc is an abstract tease; it starts off with a processed noise, then a toilet flush before spending the next few minutes in very quiet static that often leaps out with a different mood before going somewhere else. The entire disc sounds like an art installation soundtrack with its random moments of sound. There are moments of apparent silence and volume changes are more extreme. As opposed to the other parts of Kesto, this disc requires the most conentration. If you don’t have the patience, yet somehow got this far, it might be wise to skip to the last disc. Once you have the time, listening to CD 3 allows for some startling mood swings.
The fourth and final disc consists of a single hour track (Säteily or Radiation) which sounds like crystal glass slowly being rubbed together in a monstrous cavern. If you ever heard Aphex Twin’s slower works or Brian Eno’s ambient music, imagine slowing them down past a glacial speed and freeze time to its most languid pace. Turn out the lights, close your eyes and lean back when listening and you could almost feel your body hurtling through space or submerged thousands of metres under the water. From the hearts of tubes and wires comes a whalesong piercing through the stillness.
It had been three years since Pan Sonic released an album, but they’ve come back in a large way. The way they strip a song or arrangement down to its complete minimal essence without ditching the meaning is unparalleled. Based on the sheer size and scope of the project, newcomers may be overwhelmed by the four plus hours of music here. However, if you want to listen to what music in another dimension sounds like, brace yourself for what the other planets may be hearing in their dreams.
a few things have been going on that I’ve been meaning to write or post about so I’ll attempt to cover as much as my brain and carpal tunnel syndromed fingers will allow.
Quit yo’ jibba jabba
Carla got me this belated birthday gift (late but worth the wait)
“I’ve got two legs from me hips to the gr… oh wait”
Today I saw a legless and armless man playing his Casio keyboard on the corner of Dundas and Spadina. It was all John Tesh-like, so I made no donation. Having no limbs does not excuse bad taste.
(Actually, I had no money to give).
Reason why I love my apartment #302
The cherry tree out back (I bet Ms. 3×2U is jealous, hmmm?) I ate some today fresh from the tree when I got home. The only thing stopping me from filling a basket is the unknown black cables that run through it.
Yeah, I got one too
But what’s the big furor over getting a Gmail invite? Well, I guess it is a pretty damn decent alternative to Hotmail. I’ve got some passes or whatever you want to call them if anyone needs ‘em.
My cat’s litter smells like cat poop
This song comes to my brain every time Bailey steps out of the litter box:
Smellycat, smell-ly cat
what are they feeding you?
smellycat, smell-ly cat
it’s not your fault
(Yes, it’s from Friends, and no, I don’t care, it’s still funny)
Now what have we been feeding her?
*WARNING* cute cat pictures (JenV take extreme caution)
Bars on ice
Snickers taste good frozen and at room temperature. They don’t taste right straight from the refrigerator. I’m pretty sure they’d taste pretty crappy melted as well. (*BONUS TRIVIA* A melted Snickers bar actually doubled as a piece of shit in a Dave Chappelle Show sketch)
Look at me, I can be centre field
I got my Magnetic Fields concert tickets for next Friday… finally. My good buddy and Dirty Monkey partner Gary bought me most of the Stephin Merritt back catalogue that I didn’t own of my Amazon wishlist for my birthday, so I’ve been Magnetic Fielding-out as of late. My favourite album has to be “Charm of the Highway Strip”, with “Get Lost” as a close second. “The Wayward Bus/Distant Plastic Trees” is easily the worst. His recent venture “I” is like an addendum to the glorious “69 Love Songs”, which is, if you don’t know, a three-cd concept album of cross-genre ingeniousness.
My good buddy (and also a Dirty Monkey partner) Ryan will be joining me for the concert (and for two weeks starting this Sunday).
I’ve been playing Scrabble way too much recently, to the point where I’m rearranging tiles in my sleep.
MAKE THE BAD MAN STOP-op-op!
Get your filthy paws off me…
Speaking of the Dirty Monkey Bugspray Fun (I did, right there, not three paragraphs ago!), some besides me has finally put something up there!
Gary has reviewed the new !!! album, and his mixed sentiments mirror pretty much my own.
Recent reviews by me include The Chronicles of Riddick (which apparently I’m not the only one that enjoyed it and the new Hayden. album.
I’ve also been keeping up my manic consumption of movies which I’m tracking over here. Next week’s batch of mini-reviews will include the Heroic Trio, Ripley’s Game, and You Can Count On Me. My movies seen to date this 2004 is now over 75. I’m looking to cap my year with a 1:3 movie to day ratio (at least). Who needs a life?
This post is over, but first I have to say to everyone on my blogroll whose blogs I’ve ignored almost all month… erm, how’s it goin’ eh? I’ve started playing catch up as of today, don’t post too much without me.
This post deals with … ahem… male bodily things and what we do to those male bodily things, and may contain more details about me than you really care to know.
Sorry, no pictures.
Your prostate and you
What was my favorite topic of conversation at an outing last Saturday?
Why, prostates of course.
Y’see I’d just finished reading this article in Now Magazine which tells you all about your prostate and how to keep it healthy.
One way is to, putting it bluntly, ejaculate.
They mention “those who ejaculated 21 times a month were 33 per cent less likely to develop [prostate cancer].” They go on to have quotes from health professionals, one mentions “One way to keep the prostate healthy is through the correct amount of ejaculation. If your lower back starts to hurt, it may be a sign of ejaculating too much; if you’re full of vim and vigour, you’re doing fine.” I made the joke that tantric sex was actually harmful, which really isn’t a joke at all.
Of course having an almost daily routine of capping the sailor can be a little demanding on your partner so you have to let the sheep run free on your own from time to time. And, well, sometimes you need inspiration. Okay, fine, “inspiration”, spelled p-o-r-n.
You see ladies, guys have a physical need to seed, it’s nothing to do with maturity or education. We just have to do it. I don’t think you ladies have the same pent-up issue (you have a whole other grouping of physiological issues to deal with, which I am quite glad I don’t have to deal with), so you obviously don’t have the exact same attraction towards sex… not to say that women can’t have an attraction towards sex, and that both can’t have their own nuanced attraction towards it… just to say that there’s an innate understanding guys have with their bodies from age 12(-ish) and beyond that, well, ejaculating feels good. From the awkwardness of puberty, we begin to understand the effect visual and aural stimuli have on our nether regions, as opposed to just physical stimulation.
Porn, boys learn, is one of the quickest of stimulai, as they reflect one’s own thoughts of sex, whether the images engage memories of personal experiences or simply engage the fantasies. It’s been proven that women more prefer mental stimulai to get aroused, and that men definitely react to sensory stimulai But the visual and aural stimulation only serve to activate menal synopses that project a sort of false sensory response where one can “feel” what one sees, and invariably one climax becomes another.
Of course this comes off (no pun intended) as being in defense of porn, which it kind of is, but I’m not ignoring the fact that most pornography made out there is actually more harmful than beneficial, as the industry’s tendency towards demeaning, dominating and controlling women (on screen at least) portray what is definitely and unreal and unhealthy representation of what intimate sex is really supposed to be like.
Not that sex can’t be enjoyable without being romantic, but when men repeatedly watch “actors” bang one starlet after another after another in a 90 minute video span, the perception becomes that women are a conquest and not an equal partner.
Not only could this lead to sexual disfuction in an actual relationship, but it can also lead to emotional trauma and scarring for both the man and his partner. By it’s inherent nature of being a personal and solitary activity, and the feelin’ fine outcome as a result, pornography viewing can further lead to obsessive watching and/or necessity to watch… an addiction, if you will.
It’s those people - the addicted - that us regular joes mock because, for one, we don’t want to become them, and we understand how easy it could be to slide down that route - like alcoholism or gambling - but we normal guys also fear being mistaken for one of “them”… aka pervs.
But try to find me a guy who says he doesn’t look at pornography (anything from “reading” the “unpornographic” FHM to watching the Chronicles of Ride-dick) and I’ll show you a liar. Every guy’s got their thing.
I’m comin’ out
Which leads to me outing myself, here and now, as a guy who’s going to be open and honest and say, yes, I observe from time to time pornography as a facilitator of prostate heath.
Why come out now?
Well, because Emma found out - not that she caught me in the act or anything. No, she just asked… and then proceeded to prod and poke me about it until all her questions were answered or she tired first (I think it was the latter).
It’s that simple. Me and my inherent sense of non-lyingness exposed me for the minor-league prevert that I am. So yeah, I like boobies and bottoms and .. front bottoms (as Don from Sexy Beast would say)… I don’t spend any money on it (why not take advantage of the multitude of easily accessibly free stuffs that the internet provides?) and I don’t want to “talk shop” about it with other guys.
I’m not “into” porn… it’s a disposable means to an end… and I’ll take the real thing over the pictures and videos any (and every) day.
And yeah, Emma’s fine with it, she said, as long as I’m not spending my money or too much of my time with it (and, obviously, not throwing it in her face… the porn that is). And why would I when there’s still 120 hours of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on DVD I need to watch… (the geek in me wins over the pervert in me every time, just so you know… hmm Playboy or Superman?)
Magnetic Fields Get Lost ****1/2
Magnetic Fields The Wayward Bus/Distant Plastic Trees **
Future Bible Heroes - Memories of Love
Future Bible Heroes - I’m Lonely (and I love it)
Future Bible Heroes - The Lonely Robot ep
Mixing the raw feel of rock’n roll with the heathen vibe of dance shouldn’t be thought of mixing two completely different tastes together. It may sound crazy but people used to dance nonstop to a live band playing hedonistic tunes. Somewhere along the way, a line was drawn in the sand and rock dropped the roll and strove for authenticity, so the head could bang and the angst could thrash.
At least, that’s how the generalization goes. Don’t bore us, just get to the chorus. The hips and the butt got spurned so they went to the discotheques and warehouses to find the beat.
I forget where I’m going with this.
!!! (try running "chk chk chk" through your preferred search engine) are a wily octopus of a band where the tools of your favourite live band fit into a James Brown style, where each instrument fits a certain rhythmic role and they play against each other, providing their own tension. There are no verses; each song charts its own course, leading a path through different acts.
When the big mess works, it lets loose. When the going gets tough, the tought get karazzee starts off the album with the wooziest bassline hook that you’ll have injected to your booty and then glides through deranged guitars and disco drums. Pardon my freedom kicks the dance floor with warped steel drums at the beginning, sinister bongos at the end and a potty mouth throughout.
And it goes without saying, the epic dance single from last year: Me and Giuliani down by the school yard (a true story), nine minutes of top notch, floor filling action. If you have not heard this song, this should be compelling enough for you to pick up the album. Both Graig and I considered it one of the best songs from 2003, so it stands as a high water mark for the rest of the album.
However, there are patches of shoddiness. Occasionally, the inane lyrics often cripple some of the songs. Sometimes, they lay low and punctuate the polyrhythmic wonderment, but the odd phrase sounds dopey and really yanks you out. Shit scheisse merde is perilously close to prog wankery with the textures sloppily piled together and every bad 1980s new wave cliché put on display. Like leg warmers over your parachute pants in the pantheon of bad taste. An awkward piece, considering you get two parts and an instrumental reprise, but maybe they’re just anticipating the next wave.
You can tell that their reputation for being all dancepunk is wearing heavy, so they could be making their first tentative steps towards a new sound. The few short pieces interspersed throughout the album suggest some further outtakes where they run wild far from their dance roots and somewhere more cinematic.
As breakout albums go, Louden up now passes the grade, but maybe the club band lost something along the way from club land. Or the tectonics are shifting already and it’s time to hit new heights. Somehow, your butt must get moved.
(I’m finally making use of the “wha’ happened to …” category)
Remember this guy? He was one of the first hosts of the awesome CBC consumer reports show for kids call Street Cents (remember “Fit for the pit” and “What’s your beef” HA!.
He also had his own teenybopper talk show, Jonovision (which was intermixed with bad sketch comedy).
That’s right, it’s Jonathon Torrens.
Whatever happened to that guy?
Well, tune in Tuesdays at 9 to Spike TV for Joe Schmo 2 and you’ll see Jono is no Gerald, the Gotta-Be-Gay-Guy. That’s Gerald (with a soft “g” [guh], not a hard “g” [juh]).
He’s actually quite funny on the show, which is, if you don’t know the premise, a mock-reality tv show in which (this season) two real people are thrust into a fake reality tv show where every other contestant, unbeknownst to them, is an actor.
Last year’s show (coming very soon to DVD, and well worth watching) was an absolute riot, with shocks and “is he gonna figure it out” moments roughly every ten minutes.
This year’s show now has a Schmoblog in case you were curious.
So, anyway, good on you, Jono. Congrats for finding limited US success.
Forget Jason vs. Freddy.
Forget the vamps vs. werewolves of Underworld.
Forget Robocop vs. the Terminator.
Forget Frankenstein vs Dracula vs the wolfman etc of Van Helsing.
As much as I hate to admit it, Aliens vs. Predator has them beat hands down.
Ever since Dark Horse paired the two space villains up in comic books, geeks everywhere have been awaiting the unification on screen. Yeah, the videogames and action figures have sorta tied us over but now… it’s here.
And as hesitant as I am about it being directed by Paul (not Boogie Nights) Anderson, it still looks like it’ll be fun, like Chronicles of Riddick was fun. It’s a geek movie, and geeks will get it.
Well, according to this Salon article, the odd name is the pseudonym of Daniel Handler. He’s not as mysterious as Mr. Snicket, but perhaps he is just as moody.
Mr. Handler, while being a writer, is also a musician, playing accordian frequently with the Magnetic Fields. This friendship enveloped MF headman Stephin Merritt into the Snicket world, where Mr. Merritt has crafted all the songs that accompany the Lemony Snicket audiobooks (the first novel, “A Series of Unfortunate Events” is read by none other than Tim Curry.
Lemony Snicket emerged as a nom du guerre in a fit of paranoia on some message boards Mr. Handler was on while researching a decidedly non-children’s book. Thereafter it became much of a party favour, as in “Let’s have Lemony Snicket order a pizza.” It became it’s own entity when Mr. Handler was prompted to make a children’s book after his his high-school morality play “the Basic Eight” (1999) (which involved such childhood rituals as the ritual clubbing with a mallet) became a misunderstood critical success.
His Lemony Snicket series has been both a critical and commercial success and there’s a new trailer on-line for the upcoming movie starring Jim Carrey (which appears to rightly wrap two or three of the novels into one movie). Looks like fun.
Mr Handler has also written the adult novel “Watch Your Mouth” (2001) - a comedic novel about incest.
I found this on the street about a year and a half ago. It sat in a pocket of a jacket for a long long time. I’m not sure what the story is, but doing a quick Google search for some of the terms referenced yielded this page amongst other things.
Orthomolecular medicine, from what I can tell, relates to dietary healing - that is, healing one’s self through nutrition, and in the case of Hoffer, treating Schizophrenia.
I’m wondering if this was created by a former patient, or made to look as such…?
Perhaps it’s advertising directed towards the schizophrenic, as maybe only they would immediately get the message.
Now I am in no way endorsing any of the claims made on this found piece of paper, suffice it to say I’m presenting it in the context of found art and discussion stimulation, and in no other representation.
The Fiery Baths of Hades
So there’s a God ‘n’ Jesus guy a work.
You know, the type who have no problem making their obvious religious viewpoints known whenever the situation may arise. I don’t hold his religion against him, as aside from his annoying habit of vilifying us heathens, but sometimes I like to just, you know, poke him a little. Such as tonight, when I found out he smokes.
Sitting next to a woman I work with he lights up. She coughs and waves her hand.
“Oh,” he says, “you don’t like?”
“No, I’m just a little allergic.”
“Oh, well I’ll just (starts to get up) …”
“No, that’s okay,” she said. “Sit down and make your lungs black, and give your baby cancer.”
He rolls his eyes.
I look at the cigarette package and it reads “Warning: You are not the only one smoking this”, I show it to him.
“What’s that mean,” he asks.
“It means,” she said, “that second hand smoke affects everyone around you.”
“And, in fact,” I said, “second hand smoke is actually more damaging than what you breathe in.”
He laughs dismissively.
“You’re killing people when you smoke. You. You’re a killer. Killers go to Hell! You’re going to Hell!”
Look of stunned shock on his face. My co-worker stifles a laugh.
“Not just that, but you’re killing yourself. Suicide is a sin, no?”
He then relaxed a little but that initial “You’re going to Hell,” well, either it scared him or it angered him. Either way, I got a good rise out of him… was that so wrong?
I’m watching a few stupid “unscripted dramas” recently, including Last Comic Standing and Next Action Star.
The former is a stand up comedy elimination tournament kind of like American Idol (with a multi-city) talent search which pares the competitors down to 20. They then progressed to Las Vegas where a celebrity panel of judges voted for the ten best who go on to live in a mansion ala Big Brother style. Well, the celebrity judges (including Drew Carey and Brett Butler) *thought* they were voting… but apparently their votes were overshadowed by backroom producers and NBC execs who naturally didn’t pick the best and funniest comedians but the ten most unique people to throw into a house together. It’s a rather shady and deceptive thing that pissed off not just the judges but the participants as well. Watching the judges and the losing participants get an explanation as to what the rules are was intense, and then watching the winning participants trying to justify continuing on in the process after everyone’s been deceived kind of left a bad taste in my mouth.
The Next Action Star is, after two episodes, starting to get interesting. Thankfully the auditions process took up only one episode as opposed to American Idol’s 4-6. It seemed like they shot more of the auditions process but they obviously and rightly decided that it wasn’t that interesting (and it wasn’t).
But the process looks to be fun.
Striding Cloud accurately describes the inherent problem with the show.
So the “Copy Controlled” protection on my new Beta Band cd was completely bypassed by iTunes installed on my computer at work.
I rip all of my new purchases to iTunes at work, so that I can listen to whatever I want at work whenever instead of carrying cds around everywhere, and I can still listen to my cds on the big stereo at home. I just think it funny that EMI has gone through the trouble of this copyright doodad and that iTunes just goes right around it.
I’m doing origami
I’ve done Mothra and original Gamera so far.
Yesterday marked the 2 year anniversary of Me and Blogging.
Ha, blogging has been my mistress longer than Emma has.
Everybody is on about this new gmail thing… and if they aren’t going on about it, they will be.
Do we need another alternative to Hotmail and Yahoo? Well, yes, we probably do, and why not Google. But it’s not like it also has an instant messenger like the other two, nor can anyone just sign up. It’s kind of like Orkut, only it’s email. You send a limited number of your friends an invite and they in turn can sign up and invite their friends. There’s no chat, no message boards, just some rather clever (comparatively) features (plus 1gig of free-for-now storage, which is sweet). You can archive your mail and all your email is sorted by subject rather than as individual messages. And, if you’re looking for something, you can always search your email.
I’m now geekent(AT)gmail.com (just what I need, a fifth email address)…
TV Shows on DVD reports on upcoming Adult Swim Releases, which adds onto the AS release schedule of July’s releases of Aqua Teen Hunger Force Vol. 2 and Sealab 2021 Vol. 1, as well as the November release of Space Ghost Coast To Coast Vol. 2.
The new releases are as such:
The Brak Show Vol. 1
Sealab 2021 Vol. 2
SGC2C Vol. 3
Harvey Birdman Attorney At Law Vol. 1
ATHF Vol. 3
Sealab 2021 Vol. 3
SGC2C Vol. 4
The Venture Brothers Vol. 1
No explanation of what’s up with SGC2C Vol. 3, and ATHF Vol.3 has been pushed back a full year.
The Kids In The Hall Season 2 is now available for preorder from kidsinthehall.com for shipment in July. I’m crushing your head!
DJ Shadow’s “In Tune & On Time” live CD, DVD and LP came out yesterday in the US, and gets released internationally on the 28th.
Corner Gas is quite possibly the funniest Canadian sit com ever (it’s certainly the most popular right now, with nearly 1.2 million viewers each week). It’s now coming to DVD in a 2 disc set with all 13 episodes, some commentary, DVD-ROM content, interviews, deleted scenes and a preview of the second season. Price and release date haven’t been finalized, expectations are around October/November.
The really short lived Fox Keen Eddie is coming to DVD. A quirky American cop-in-London series which tried quite hard to be Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels… and didn’t do to badly at it either. Worth a look.
And sadly, The Flash tv show from 90/91 season isn’t coming to DVD any time soon. Barry Allen creator Carmen Infantino is suing DC Comics for copyright of the character (who died in 1985’s Crisis on Infinite Earths mini series but is continually used these days to tell new stories from the past) amongst others.
the hair we share
I paid nearly $40 for a haircut yesterday, a haircut I’m not entirely sure I like… but the hairdresser massaged my head as he washed my hair, and that was totally worth it.
I’ve never paid $40 for a haircut before. I don’t think I need to again.
The $40 haircut was a bit of a treat to myself as my vacation pay from my last contract was paid out, so I had a bit of extra buckage to throw around. So, what was I to do with all that money? Comics? CDs? TV on DVD? New clothes? Donation to the Green Party? All of the above?
I took Emma to the promise land. No that’s not a sexual euphamism, nope, that’s code for Made You Look, the Jewellery co-op in Parkdale (our old stomping ground) where I had been promising to take her to get a ring made for months now…. as soon as I get money.
Well, I got money, and Emma’s getting her Green Lantern ring (well, it’s not an actual Green Lantern ring. It can be recharged every 24 hours and wield her great power… it’s merely inspired by such. The best thing… it was her choice.)
So, yes people, that means we’re engaged. It’s nothing new, and nothing to wet your pants about. It’s just semi-official now, instead of unofficial as it was a mere two days ago.
I watched one whole half hour of the Party Leaders Debate on television last night. What do I have to say about it all? First, Conservative leader Stephen Harper may have been the most composed person of the evening but his policies are totally scary-ass. Secondly, Jack Layton spoke the loudest, but Paul Martin spoke the longest. Man that guy can ramble on and on and on while ignoring three other people yelling in his ear. Too bad what he had to say seemed, well, too rehersed. They all, in fact, seemed too rehersed. Thirdly, nothing was accomplished last night. There was no new ideas brought forward, and no real discussion was achieved. I only wish the Green Party’s Jim Harris had been in the mix to bring some issues into the mix, instead of continually reverting to “sound bites”. Fourth, did anyone notice that the Bloc guy was there? Nah, me neither.
In the end, I don’t think any of the politicians did themselves a service last night, and I think they only served to confuse undecided voters more. My recommendation is (1) take the time to read about the parties, and your local representatives for all, instead of deciding on leader, and (2) don’t vote Conservative (unless you would like to see what George Bush did to the US happen to Canada).