www.simoncollier.ca

Isn’t it weird how the senses are so deeply connected to our memories?

You know what I mean. When you smell something your mother used to make when you were little, or when you taste a drink you had on a special holiday all those years ago. Orangina reminds me of France. So does Yop, and chocolate-filled Cuissants. As soon as I hold them, I am back in the countryside in France, surrounded by sunflower fields and grapes.

I watched the new episode of Dr. Who tonight. As soon as I heard the music start, I got butterflies in my stomach. I felt a nervous excitment in me, and I quickly became the eight year-old child watching the show from behind the couch, huddled in my pajamas against the warm radiator as the opening music played. Grasping hold of something as the darleks chased the hero, or the alien was killed.

It’s good to feel like a child again sometimes. To be brought back to simpler times, to feel nervous and excited about a TV show.

“I’m an individual.”

I get sick of hearing that because no, you’re not. You’re a statistic, a miniscule part of a society that tourments itself with norms and fashions and ideals that are not representative of the population.

Turn on the radio and Biance or GiGi or other such crap is playing away, repeated every half-hour to satisfy the greedy overindulgance of the latest, greatest generation that we are; binging on everything until they makes us ill.

With the current quirky fashion of “uncool is cool”, everybody seems to be seeking the “alternatives” to the norms, whether it’s music, movies, books, political viewpoints or religious beliefs. But this in itself makes the alternatives mainstream. And as soon as that happens, people move on.

“They used to be great, but then they went mainstream.”

That’s complete bollocks: they didn’t ‘go bad’ because they went mainstream, you’re just so controlled by the popularity of something and so in need of being alternative that you can no longer enjoy them. That’s your problem, not theirs.

I like some of Britney Spear’s music. Not all of it, but some. I even like Jessica Simpson’s sister’s latest song, despite being gramatically impaired, and notwithstanding the tiny amount of respect I have for her. I like some imported music, I like some Enya, I like some classical, I like some jazz. Some rock, some rave, some choir. But it seems like for each group of people that like one music type I listen to, they judge me for the other styles. It’s bizaar.

“Alternative dressing” is also interesting. My goth friends have often said they want to “dress how they like to dress; they don’t care about fashions or what others think”. I would believe that if they dressed differently every day, perhaps based on their mood or what colour they like this week. But that’s not the case: they dress in black leather and white makeup, just like every other Goth in the world wanting to be an individual.

This isn’t a slam on Goths, nor is it a slam on Biance (let’s face it, she needs all the help she can get). It’s just my way of saying

“We’re all as individual as each other. Shut the fuck up and get along with each other.”

I was listening to ‘My Front Porch Looking In’ by Lonestar on the long drive home and my eyes filled with tears. It sparked a state of mourning, or rekindled it I suppose. It comes in waves. I’ll be fine a while, then I’ll pause too long, think too much. My chest tightens, my eyes swell, my stomach aches and I feel completely hollow.

Edited

It’s strange how things turn out. Funny how’s there’s always a twist in the story that completely changes the ending.

Maybe if I buy myself something, the pain will subside a while.

I like the lyrics here…

Every single night the same arrangement
I go out and fight the fight
Still, I always feel the strangest estrangement
Nothing here is real,
Nothing here is right
I’ve been making shows of trading blows
Just hoping no one knows
That I’ve been

Going through the motions
Walking through the part
Nothing seems to penetrate my heart
I was always brave and kind of righteous
Now I find I’m wavering
Crawl out of your grave you’ll find this fight
Just doesn’t mean a thing
She ain’t got that swing
Thanks for noticing
She does pretty well with fiends from hell
But lately, we can tell
That she’s just

Going through the motions
Faking it somehow
She’s not even half the girl she…
ow
Will I stay this way forever?
Sleepwalk through my life’s endeavour
How can I repay you?
Whatever
I don’t want to be

Going through the motions
Losing all my drive
I can’t even see
If this is really me
And I just wanna be
Alive

~ Going Through The Motions (“One More Time, With Feeling” Soundtrack, Joss Wheadon)

I was wandering down Whyte Avenue a little while ago and saw a car with a “powered by Canola Oil” sticker on it.

“What an interesting idea” I thought, as I passed it by. “Clean burning, renewable fuel – what a great concept!”. With all the land Alberta has, we could grow Canola en masse, this could be our new “oil”. The farming tradition in Albera would be rejuvenated, we would pioneer “big business” in clean fuel and we would have the world watching us, and learning.

Then I thought about it some more. Our whole transport system reliant on Canola. The benefits are clear, but there are some huge risks too.

1. Crop Failure
If all of our transport relies on a steady and abundant production of Canola, then a crop failure would be devastating to the economy. Not only would the Canola farmers lose money, but all businesses reliant on transport in any way would be affected. Fuel prices would skyrocket, as would the cost of cooking oil and margarine; fuel alternatives would be required again.

We would never let this happen, of course. To ensure consistent, successful crops we would be forced to grow Genetically Modified Canola across the board. They must be disease-resistant, rot-resistant, drought-resistant and grow well when densely seeded. This, logically, would be the same crops used for food and we would all consume the product of hastily-created GM seed.

2. Land Space
If this fuel is to succeed, crops must be grown across the country. We are fortunate to have so much unused land, and would likely become one of the world’s largest producers of Canola. This could make us rich, but could also attract bad business investors, such as those seen in Iraq oil companies.

Few other countries would have the vast growing areas that we do (we would need a LOT of oil), which means most would be unable to profit from this at all. Mostly, world demand would likely far exceed our production abilities – or even the production potential of the entire world.

3. Terrorism Risks
Terrorism is mostly about oil and money. If we became the largest producer of a new oil type, there would be many, many upset oil investors, not least of which being the U.S. We would become a huge target for terrorism. We would elevate ourselves from the comfort of being unnoticed amongst the masses and all eyes would be on us.

So, what started as a “nice idea” could spin wildly out of control.

It won’t of course, because so much money and power is derived from oil that none of the big players would want to lose that.

The same applies to Natural Gas-powered vehicles: nice idea, not going to take off. And ultimately, uses a non-renewable fuel anyway.

We need to run on something else entirely. Any ideas?