Tag: Structure

Day 991: The Subjective Science of Getting Friendly With Your Water


Good morning, water. You look lovely today. The way you have meticulously extracted the energizing essence of those crumbly brown nuggets of Sumatra in my coffee maker really brings out the glimmer in your droplets. Look, I’m a married man, but if I wasn’t, I would totally be gettin’ up in dat aqua, you feel me?

According to Dr. Masaru Emoto, I may have just created a more healthy and vibrant cup of coffee. Dr. Emoto is a revolutionary oracle of scientific knowledge, inasmuch as he has concocted his own definitions of the words “scientific” and “knowledge”. Dr. Emoto has “proven” (and it’s hard to find a source for his work that doesn’t nestle that word between the comforting pillows of quotation marks) that positive energy makes water better.

Not better-tasting, not more nutritious or refreshing… just better. Happier. More wholly fulfilled. Dr. Emoto unearthed that line where metaphysics and alternative medicine cross over into crazed Lynchian fiction, then leaped across it like a doped-up Olympian. He landed among the Technicolor bobbles of the absurd, cultivated his own particular brew of ludicrous reasoning and slapped a price tag on it.

And we bought in. Oh, how we bought in.

How could we not trust that sincere face?

How could we not trust that sincere face?

Masaru Emoto earned his doctorate at the Open University for Alternative Medicine in India, though I feel “earned” should be yet another resident of Quotes-Marks Manor, as I have unearthed a couple of sources which claim that such a degree can be bought for around $500. But Dr. Emoto’s doctorness is relatively moot, as he immediately set out to sail the vague ocean of alternative medicine, which contains far more fetid flotsam than it does navigable current. Read more…

Day 892: 8 Obscure Poetry Forms For The Love Of 80’s Movies


I have a tendency to mistrust my own ambition. One morning I felt the urge to spend that day’s kilograph using however many haikus would be necessary to fill a thousand words (eight-two, apparently). Another day had me wrestling to produce nine Shakespearean sonnets, adhering as closely as possible to the specific rules the Bard created for himself. Once I stuck my e-quill into the murky ink of limericks. Every time I drift from prose into the rhymey, heavily-structured stuff it sucks up most of my daylight hours.

Yet here I go again, this time seeking the lesser-known twists of poetic construct, and aiming to siphon yet another perfectly good weekday into the mire of make-workery. Such is the sacrifice that I shall make for you, the reader of my manifesto of madness.

And because nothing is really drop-kicking my heart of hearts between the uprights of noble inspiration this morning, I’m going to use films from the 1980s as my muse. Suck it, romanticism.


I’ll start with a seguidilla, a Spanish form of verse with a specific syllable count (7,5,7,5,5,7,5) and rhyme scheme (x,A,x,A,B,x,B).


Consider: five lives meeting,

locked in detention;

overcoming plot points, and

child-scar retention;

it might happen there –

in Fiction, Illinois, sure;

fist-pump in the air!


I’m not winning any awards with these – best to accept that early on and continue. Read more…

Day 401: The Eiffel Towerses


In my (albeit limited) experience, the buildings that have earned the reputation of being among the world’s best usually live up to the hype. The CN Tower in Toronto pierces the sky like a deranged steel phallus, the Empire State Building’s mastery of art deco ensures New York will never become too cold and modern for its own good, and Telus Plaza in Edmonton, where I work, is just as ugly in real life as it looks in photos.

It even smells bland inside.

It even smells bland inside.

Then there’s the Eiffel Tower, which rises like a strikingly cool fountain of intricately woven lattice above Paris, offering some of the most lens-liquefyingly exquisite views of France’s boldest metropolis. Such an incredible architectural accomplishment is truly a unique volume within the world’s library of magnificent structure.

Well, sort of. The word ‘unique’ might need to be yanked from that sentence. ‘Cause it totally isn’t.

There are more than thirty Eiffel-ish Towers around the world, all emulating Gustave Eiffel’s contribution to the 1889 World’s Fair. The original – the one that ends up on the postcards – is about 1050 feet tall. Most of its impersonators don’t quite match up. Read more…