My favourite band is Spiritualized

I started studying Christianity because I started going to church.

I know, I know:
“Who goes to church?”
“Naw man, Who Sings My Generation.”
(Ba, dup, bup, chsh!)

I started going to church because I wanted a teaching job,
and to work for a Catholic school
you need a letter
FROM A PRIEST.

So it only made sense that I should study Christianity.

Studying is one of my hobbies.
I do it for fun.
I do it for pleasure.
I do it when I run.
(Level 1- rhyme.)

(Things I have studied for fun, pleasure, and while I run, include:

Professional Wrestling
Rock and Roll
The Beatles
The Who
Keith Moon
Spiritualized
The Existence of God
Calcio
Ancient Rome.)

I read John (God Jesus),
Then Matthew (Jewish Jesus),
Then Mark (Confusing Jesus),
Then Luke (Joyful Jesus).
I read Acts and got bored.
I read Paul and gor bored.
I read chapter summaries
of the Old Testament books
in my Catholic Bible
from St. Norbert's Elementary School
and was like,
“Shit, man. I don’t know shit about the Old Testament.”

I read some of Jesus and Yaweh
by Harold Bloom
but he used
too many words
I don’t understand.

I listened to some of Christianity: The First Three Years
by Diarmaid MacCulloch
but he lost the iPod battle
to Rainbow Dome Musick
by Steve Hillage.

I’m reading God: A Biography
by Jack Miles.
It’s going slowly
but it’s also kind of blowing my mind.

I re-read “What Did Jesus Do?”
by Adam Gopnik
and felt jealousy
because I am a sinner.

Over Easy, Feb. 18

Poster by Carrly Gooding

Musical Screenplay: "Secret Meeting" by The National

Instructions: Start the song. Read along.

[Twinkle Guitars/Half Disco 1]
(Low, despondent.)

I think
this place
is full of spies.
I think they’re onto me.

[Voice/Drums 1]
“Didn’t anybody? Didn’t anybody tell you?
Didn’t anybody tell you
how to gracefully disappear
in a room?”

[Twinkle Guitars 2]

I know you put in the hours to keep me
in sunglasses.
I know.

[Voice/Drums 2]

And so and now,
I’m sorry I missed you.
I had a secret meeting
in the basement of my
brain.

[Edge Guitars 1]
(Hint at tears.)

It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.
It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.

And how,
I’m sorry I missed you.
I had a secret meeting
in the basement of my
brain.

[Twinkle Guitars 3]
(With more feeling.)

I think this place is full of spies.
I think I’m ruined.

[Voice/Drums 3]

“Didn’t anybody? Didn’t anybody tell you?
Didn’t anybody tell you
this river’s full of
lost sharks?”

[Twinkle Guitars 4]
I know you put in the hours to keep me
in sunglasses.
I know.

[Voice/Drums 4]

And so and now,
I’m sorry I missed you.
I had a secret meeting
in the basement of my
brain.

[Edge guitar 2]
[Enter Shouting Chant, Slow Crescendo]
(With more life.)

It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.
It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.

(Gaining confidence.)

And how,
I’m sorry I missed you.
I had a secret meeting
in the basement of my
brain.

[Shouting Chant Gets Slightly Wilder]
(With conviction.)

It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.
It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.
It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.
It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.

[Shouting Chant Adds Higher Pitches. Loose and Free.]

It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.
It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.
It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.
It went the dull and wicked ordinary ways.

On Phil Kessel

The most popular explanation for the general suckiness of the Maple Leafs since the 2004* NHL lockout goes something like this: “Leafs fans are so dedicated to the team—so faithful—that MLSE has no incentive to ice a winner.

“The only way we’re going to win,” the theory implies, “is when the fans stop showing up.” Leave it to Torontonians to turn loyalty, the greatest virtue of sports fandom, into a cause for self-flagellation.

It’s those loyal fans, though, who never hesitate to lash Leaf players and management when things go wrong. This season, the whip has often landed on the back of a 23-year-old Madison, Wisconsin-native by the name of Phil Kessel.

To acquire the speedy right-wing sniper from Boston, Leafs GM Brian Burke traded two first round draft picks, a much-maligned move amongst the talk radio and message board chattering classes, who always seem to favour a “slow rebuild,” until the team actually hits the ice, where boo birds chirp at every lacklustre period. (I realize this "Monolithic Fan" is a straw man , let me spear him anyway, OK?) Kessel despite his undeniable technical and physical skills, is streaky, a deficiency magnified greatly in a city where Leafs post-game analysis gets more media space than the Jays, Raptors and Argos combined.

A winning franchise needs a franchise player; basically, a guy who makes the all-star game every year. Kessel has to be that player for the Leafs. Dougie Gilmour** knows he has the the talent. He skates swiftly and rips it in into the top corner. He hasn't had linemates*** all season yet still netted 19 goals.



He displayed his class to me very early this season at the ACC: With the home team up 2-1 late in the third period, the Florida Panthers pinned an exhausted Leafs first line in their own zone; and, just as a tying goal seemed inevitable, Kessel stripped the puck from a Panthers forward, sprinted past his former Bruins teammate Dennis Wideman, and whipped the puck into the top corner with his trademark quick-release wrist shot. It was an all-star play from an all-star player. And in a hockey-obsessed town that hasn’t seen the playoffs in half a decade, Kessel can’t afford to be anything less.



*Some of you will think, “Haven’t the Leafs sucked much longer than this? Like, since 1967?” This isn’t true. The Leafs before the lockout were strong--they finished fourth overall. And I how could you ever, EVER say the Gilmour-era Leafs sucked? If it not for Wayne Gretzky’s NHL Mafia, we totally woulda won the Cup that year.

**I apologize for using the Lord's name in vain.

***Come on, Joey Crabb!

On Roger Daltrey

I think Pete said it best:

"As soon as Keith joined the band, we became four people vying for the audience's attention, and I think in the end, Keith and I won over Roger and John. Well, actually, John never bothered to join the fight and Roger just lost, really."

On music

I play it
usually with drums
sometimes with other people
sometimes for money.
I sing and bang piano, too,
but no one’s offered to pay me
for that.

I listen to it
through headphones
through my computer speakers
and sometimes
when people in the room with me are playing it
through a P.A.
I prefer headphones, but the big ones make my ears hot and the buds
give me wax.

I read about it, daily
and my favourite critics right now
are Sasha Frere-Jones, Mark Richardson, and Carles
from Hipster Runoff.

I think about it
with my brain
probably too much.
Lately, though, I mostly think
about math.

I write about it.
Then I dance about architecture.

On John Entwistle

John Entwistle, bassist for The Who, will be remembered by rock historians for four things: his superior playing skills, his skeleton suit, his cocaine-and-hooker induced death at 57, and his statue-like performance style, the final piece of The Who’s much-imitated, impossibly awesome on-stage aesthetic.

When we were kids, my sisters and I would often play Band. Our role-plays involved costumes (such as head bands and leather vests), make-up (for mascara beards and mustaches), and props (tennis racket guitars, chair drumsets, desk keyboards etc.) I have two sisters, leaving us one member short of the full Who line-up, so when we played The Who, an ironing board would stand in for Mr. Entwistle. After viewing a particularly blistering performance, my mother, in her review, described the board’s performance as “spot on.”

I first became aware of Entwistle’s still style while watching the epically awful film version of Tommy. He first appears, wearing a religious robe, as a musician in the entourage of Eric Clapton, who plays the part of the head preacher at a church where Marilyn Monroe is idolized as a god (as I said, the movie is epically awful). As he’s walking down the aisle behind Clapton to kick off mass, Entwistle, with impeccable posture, keeps in perfect step while ripping some absolutely deadly bass licks during a bluesy version of "The Hawker." I found this approach really, really funny. I still do.

What made the whole minimal motion schtick work, of course, was Entwistle's ridiculously, hilariously mad bass skillz. Where the rest of his body barely inched, Entwistle`s fingers raced up and down the strings like a flurry of wild rhinos. And where Pete, Keith and Roger appeared more than willing to bleed for rock and roll, with their windmills, orgasm faces, and swinging microphones, Entwistle never broke a sweat, though he did occasionally crack a grin. He was the quintessence of effortless cool playing in the hottest live band of the 60s and 70s. May Marilyn bless his soul.



Isolated bass from "Won't Get Fooled Again" in 1978. The little breaths he takes before the big runs are hilarious.



Entwistle's piece de resistance, "The Real Me," from The Who's 2000 comeback show at The Royal Albert Hall. Don't love the bass tone, but wow could the dude wail on that instrument.