After the band ran last minute errands we finally headed out on the road to Saskatoon. We brought Dylan from Harvest King Records along with his distro, rad dude. The drive there wasn’t bad. This is the flattest place I’ve ever seen in my whole life. Not a mountain anywhere. That’s strange for me. Showed up to the venue without the promoter in site. I walked to the liquor store and but some rum to make booze Slurpees with. It’s a refreshing treat on a hot day. After waiting around for an hour a lady who ran the venue opened the door for us and let us load in. Old Problems went to get a PA and the bands more or less set the show up themselves. All the bands sounded really good. I’m stoked to be on tour with them. The turn out was pretty low and I sold one shirt. Yay me. Apparently the promoter showed up at some point during the show. As we were leaving he got into it with Jessie and then tried calling out all of invasion for “looking down on his scene”. The whole thing was just weird and unneeded. Lucky a fight didn’t break out and everyone just said fuck it and left. Took us forever to find food and gas as we were leaving town but i hit the jackpot. The cashier at the gas station was on his phone and not paying attention and gave me back $17 in change despite the fact I paid in exact change. He even called me back in the store because I had “forgotten” to get it from him. Works out for me. I’m back at Errol’s house now and I’m gonna get some sleep.
In truth, December destroyed me. January crushed me. By February, I was not myself. March rolled in like beatings and rolled out like a bear hug. In April I stared out the window for a fucking month. I don't want October. I don't want November. I don't want to feel those crippling blows that I can't explain to myself, my friends or you so I soften them with hours of Nintendo.
“He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others—the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by the midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad.”— Jonathan Safran Foer (Everything Is Illuminated)
This is the sound of the aurora on Saturn. Pretty eerie, no?
There is no sound in space. Outside planets and stars, molecules are spread out too thin for sound to propagate. It follows, then, that we can’t really hear sounds planets emit into space. But radio waves—electromagnetic waves with wavelengths longer than infrared light—are, as we know, handy for representing sound. And so it makes sense for us to interpret radio waves, whether originally encoding sound or not, as sound. These are radio waves emitted in conjunction with auroras around Saturn’s poles, similar to the northern and southern lights on Earth. They were picked up by the Cassini spacecraft and then interpreted as sound. But the sound was not in the audible range, so it has been downshifted by a factor of 44. And finally, so as not to bore us to death, it has been speeded up by a factor of 22. Realize, then, that many human choices were made in order for us to be able to “listen to space.” But if you can accept that, you can enjoy this.
Got into Regina, SK last night. Found out that Al was a dingus and never got the Winnipeg and Brandon shows booked so we have a few days to kill till we head to Saskatoon for the first show on Saturday. Last night we got burritos and drinks at a few different places. Wound up drinking $1 draft beers, which was the worst beer ever, at the local University bro bar. Apparently Errol’s mom saw Rollins era Black Flag at the same spot back in the 80’s. I did get my picture taken with Mega Munch the robotic dinosaur at the Royal Saskatchewan Museum. For some reason the dinosaur use to be at the airport which I can only assume was meant to scare and confuse tired immigrants or something of that nature.
It’s America’s hat. Also Vancouver beats the piss out of Seattle. I forgot how beautiful this city is. The downtown skyline is amazing. I will say the Seattle’s needle is bigger (that’s what she said). Greyhound ride was nice and smooth. Listened to music, wrote and texted with some swell people. The border crossing was surprisingly fast. Border guard was kind of a prick like they always are. Flight boards in an hour then I’ll be in Regina, SK two hours later. What’s the deal with everything in airports being crazy expensive? A cliff bar and a perrier was $7.98. I will say that I missed seeing French written on everything and most announcements are repeated in French as well. I need to start studying it again, don’t remember most of what I knew.
“PACK YOUR FISTS FULL OF HATE,
TAKE A SWING AT THE WORLD,
THESE KIDS STICK TO THEMSELVES,
CARRY ANGST IN THERE WORDS,
THOUGHT WE’LL NEVER BE APART,
OF THIS CURSED FUCKING TOWN,
SO WE STAND AMONGST OURSELVES,
AND WATCH IT BURN IT TO THE FUCKING
GROUND, BURN TO THE FUCKING GROUND.”—
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“The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were all made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff.”—Carl Sagan (via yamplifier)