Eric profile picture

Eric

There's always an onion in every o pi nion .

About Me

I was born in the back of a Toronto taxi cab and left behind as payment because my parents were short the fare. Raised communally as one of their own, riding shotgun during their shifts in nothing but a baby seat & diapers, the cab drivers affectionately called me "Guilt Tip," a pun referring to the type of trip a passenger took whenever I was present in the car. I was every driver's son, daughter (when the pink ribbon was tied around my head), nephew, retarded grandson, third-world adopted foster child; I played whatever role was asked of me. The passing street signs taught me to read, the drivers taught me the value of hard work, and the passengers taught me how to be a arrogant, racist, condescending, self-righteous prick. It was my private shame however, that I had never learned how to truly love another person.And so, at the tender age of 18, I reluctantly put on some clothes, shedding that baby seat once and for all. Stammering through a traitorous, yet tearful goodbye to my extended family of honorable cabbies, I struck out on my own with nothing but a suitcase in my hand and my most prized possession around my neck: a pine-tree scented necklace given to me by Eddie, the overnight dispatcher-guy.Over the next 11 years I wandered from town to town and job to job, trying in vain to make my mark in the world while blindly chasing the elusive myth that was true love.And yet, to my underwhelmed sense of disappointment, no one wanted anything to do with a young man dressed in a suit of wooden beads made entirely from discarded seat cushions. Unable to endure so much anguish and embarrassment, I was forced to make the heart-wrenching decision to conceal my taxi cab heritage from the rest of the world. I arrogantly shunned my communal family and adopted a new persona, a new wardrobe and most importantly, a new name: Eric.Under that more palatable pseudonym, I undertook the long, arduous journey from my disgraced Ontario homeland, through the lonesome twilights of the never-ending prairies, over the craggy & unforgiving stone walls of the Rocky Mountains, all the way to the fabled golden Western Coast of Canada!Upon my triumphant arrival I quickly collapsed from exhaustion and a distinct lack of fluids. I may have fled from my past but I never could get far enough away from myself. To this day I feel that I'm still running, but it seems now that the West is where I'm destined to cross that finish line and leave the race behind me once and for all.But, as it is with any quest to discover the self that deep down one has known about all along but willfully denied its existence, the journey introduced me to many people, some of whom were also just wandering spirits like myself. There were more than a few adventures and escapades along the way..extraordinary tales of lust found and love lost, of raw passion and violent retribution: ripe elements for a scandalous tale the likes of which are best left for another time, and another blurb.

My Interests

I'm a bit of an urban-dwelling media whore. But like a media whore with character. You know: a sailor's mouth, unsightly fashion-sense, endearing addictions and a heart of gold. Oh, and STDs. Lots and lots of STDs.

<[b> Correction: I've recently been made aware by the good people who design those curved, hard plastic Public Health warnings we've all seen on public transit that we're supposed to ditch the whole STD acronym and instead start endorsing the term STIs , i.e. Sexually Transmitted Infections .

Ridiculousness I say! I mean if we're really serious about preventing the spread of inane definitions for sexually-induced illness', then what we need to do is jump off of this PC wall once and for all, grow a pair of shiny brass ones, and send this organic concept of STIs back to the hemp-lined drawing board of the vegan brain-trust who insist on ignoring the truth by sticking their heads in the sand like a flock of free-range ostriches.
It's time to face facts folks! This is our Vietnam! We need to get on board the Straight-Talk Express and unite like a million-man march for the adoption of a new acronym: " STZs ". Yep... there ain't nothing that'll shrivel up your happy bits quite like the possibility of contracting the weeping genital sores of Sexually Transmitted Zombie Syndrome.
I mean, if you were given the 'from-the-hip' Sue Johanson straight goods on STZs would you really risk letting some hardbody pre-law stud ply you all night with Jaggermeister-shots knowing there was a plausible chance of waking up the next morning with a roofie headache and a case of full-blown Sexually Transmitted Zombie Syndrome? Hmm..., congrats hon, not only won't you be having any periods for the next 9 months, but think of all the weight you'll gain what with the cravings for pickles, ice cream and, oh yeah, BRAINS!!! Ben & Jerry's 'Cherry Garcia' might not satisfy your hunger, but Ben & Jerry themselves just might. And the less said about early Zombie morning sickness the better.

If we don't intervene while we still have the numbers on our side, the zombie-welfare class, left unchecked to their own depraved vices, will have inter-bred to the point of STZ saturation and the epidemic will become, rather ironically, impervious to any and all Public Health warnings, PC or otherwise.
Hell, I won't even be able to get halfway through reading the new STZ ads on the bus home from work before the girl with the cute pixie cut I noticed sitting across from me violently erupts from her seat and lunges at me through the swaying swarm of semi-autistic 9-to5ers that fill the aisle between us. Her crackled eyes mimic her bloodthirsty shrieks as she rips the iPod headhpones from out of my ears; a frenzied ballet of fingernails and torn skin that distracts me long enough so as not to notice her sharpened canine teeth until they've anchored themselves deep into my skull.
The bus driver, either oblivious to my screams or satiated from an earlier feeding, blindly continues to pick-up and drop-off his passengers. No-one notices or seems to care as the girl who was my fleeting bus crush starts gnawing feverishly through my temporal lobe, severing the nerves which now rendered me incapable of hearing or even comprehending my own soon-to-be-silenced screams.

Ah, but life is not without it's humor. Like all good things in life, be they media, violence, drugs, sex... it's all just a matter of time until the you get that tickle in your tummy, and you realize it's time to get off the couch and join in on the feeding frenzy.
I guess that's why I'm a just a media whore and not a real one. It also might explain why I suffer from both major depression and the debilitating isolation & crushing loneliness that are the inevitable results of such an affliction.

But... at least for the time being, I'm safe from the outside dangers of STZs ...

...FOR NOW!!!

I'd like to meet:


Stephen Colbert , as he presents my second installment of the On Notice board!

Music:

In no particular order...

Belle and Sebastian, Neko Case, Scissor Sisters, The New Pornographers, The Verve, The Detroit Cobras, Emmylou Harris, Gram Parsons, Underworld, Spiritualized, Spacemen 3, My Bloody Valentine, Ride, Now It's Overhead, Sufjan Stevens, Marah, Lily Allen, The Pipettes, Stars, Amy Millan, Broken Social Scene, Antony and The Johnsons, The Magic Numbers, Ellen Allien, Everything But The Girl, The Fiery Furnaces, Gillian Welch, Kate Rusby, Interpol, James, Jamie Lidell, Bjork, LCD Soundsystem, Gang Of Four, M.I.A., M83, Sasha, Telefon Tel Aviv, Mates Of State, Mazzy Star, Minus The Bear, Nada Surf, The National, Noonday Underground, The Notwist, Sam Cooke, Paul Simon, The Doors, Bruce Springsteen, Elton John, The Perishers, Young Heart Attack, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Wolf Parade, Arcade Fire, The Velvet Underground, Talking Heads, Tom Waits, The Streets, Embrace, Ted Leo/Pharmacists, The Shins, Cat Power, Bright Eyes, Radiohead, Jerry Lee Lewis, Primal Scream, Pixies, The Smiths, Joy Division, New Order, Portishead, Massive Attack, !!!, Sarah Harmer, Rilo Kiley, Asobi Seksu, The Black Angels, The Knife

As you can see, I likey the music

Movies:

Breaking The Waves, Head-On, Lost In Translation, All The Real Girls, The Muppet Movie, Ghost World, Footloose, Magnolia, Morvern Callar, Bottle Rocket, In America, Suicide Circle, Gozu, Who The Hell Is Juliette?, Le Samourai, Children Of Paradise, Code 46, Ratcatcher, George Washington, V For Vendetta, The Descent, Battle Royale, Human Traffic, West Side Story, Requiem For A Dream, The Passion of Joan of Arc, The Godfather, Blue Velvet, Sex Lies and Videotape, Boogie Nights, M, Thirty-Two Short Films About Glenn Gould, On The Watefront, Long Days Journey Into Night, Who's Afraid Of Virgina Woolf, The Celebration, Wings Of Desire, Run Lola Run, Ruby In Paradise, Brick

Television:

The Simpsons, Twin Peaks, 24, The Office (UK and USA), Prison Break, Arrested Development, Family Guy, Futurama, South Park, My Name Is Earl, The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, The Muppet Show, American Idol, The Wire, House, Battlestar Galactica,

Books:

One Hundred Days Of Solitude, Neuromancer, Microserfs, Girlfriend In A Coma, The Intuitionist, On The Road, The Grapes Of Wrath, The Last Magician, Out (by Natsuo Kirino), The Bell Jar, A Scanner Darkly, Watchmen, The Pornographer's Poem, American Psycho, The Ticket That Exploded, Beloved, The Sound And The Fury, Snow Crash, A Confederacy Of Dunces, VALIS, The Divine Invasion, The Transmigration Of Timothy Archer, Blindness, Foucault's Pendulum, The Word For World Is Forest, The Southeast Asian Book Of The Dead, Rosey The Baby Killer and Other Stories, Fox In Socks, East Van

Heroes:

It's on Mondays @ 9:00 on NBC

I edited my profile with Thomas' Myspace Editor V4.4

My Blog

East Van Snow Day!

There's snow. It's dark. Took a walk. Wire's Pink Flag in my ears. Slippy shoes on my feets. Big smile on my face....
Posted by Eric on Mon, 27 Nov 2006 11:44:00 PST

Good ole fashion'd Brampton bashin'

This is one of those things that you believed was so beyond the realm of possibility that your brain never even bothered to imagine it, even though this is the same brain that brought you "If you were...
Posted by Eric on Wed, 25 Oct 2006 07:21:00 PST

Welcome to the Lighthouse

An equation, if I may: It's late + I can't sleep = the bleary-eyed birth of this blogActually, it would serve you well to consider the above more as a PSA in equation form. Or, at the very least, ...
Posted by Eric on Mon, 07 Aug 2006 05:08:00 PST