December 18, 2001
December 07, 2001
November 26, 2001
November 23, 2001
November 21, 2001
November 19, 2001
November 07, 2001
November 05, 2001
Listopad
Witamy.
November 04, 2001
15. Canadians don't know how to do anything.
I mean, I feel like you've been living in cave for twenty-five years or something! You don't know how to find an apartment, how to choose the degree you want, how to get a job, how to buy a car, how to send a letter, how to use a coupon, how to change a lightbulb, nothing, nothing at all!! What am I supposed to think? I don't know how to do things around here, but it seems like no one does and no one can help me. How can people live like this? How can you know that housing legislation overrides all personally written contracts? How come it's not written right on the rental application? How can you know what degree to get if you want to get into marketing? How can you get experience without already having experience? How can you get anywhere in this country? I don't get why they call it such a "free," "opportunity-filled" country, when there's no simple way to get anything at all! You Canadians are so focused on individuality that there seem to be no rules for anything. Consequently you have to rely on yourself to complete the smallest little task. And if you suck, then somebody's going to steal your house from you. Everything... dammit, everything is a competition. God help you if you run into a dishonest landlord, or car dealer, or the guy who sold you your house.Midge
I am so impressed by your character and sense of judgement that I can only assume that your taste in women is impeccable: any woman whom you date must be the most desirable and attractive woman there is; however, I would not dream of insulting your taste by attempting to make the judgment with my own poor sight (or any of the other senses for that matter).October 30, 2001
14. Canadians sense a manly obligation never to sleep during work hours.
Although many of them get very sleepy, especially in those two hours just after lunch, when.... oooooohhhh yeahhhh, you could just lean back in that big ol' comfy chair, stretch the ol' legs out under the desk, let the ol' lids droop shut, and snore away for a warm hour or so. Sleeping is absolutely forbidden! No matter how drowsy they get, Canadians force their eyes open, staring straight ahead, and putting all their remaining energy into the single task of staying awake. All work stops, co-workers don't talk to each other any more, and the office goes quiet except for the drone of the a/c exhaust. Yet everyone believes that if they are caught napping that's it, they're smoked. Worse even than the fear of being fired would be the absolute shame of the public revelation that the sleeper had for one moment let his guard down and been caught not pretending to work. As if it's unreasonable to lay the heavy and fog-ridden brain down for a quick repose after a hearty meal. As if the company will as a result immediately go bankrupt, customers turn away in disgust, or the quality of work suffer. A nap, refreshing as it is, actually subtracts less from a worker's productivity than the typical two-hour combat against lunch-induced, mind-numbing dreams. Canadian offices practically give off a light, collective rattling just after lunch, when breaths start to come heavy in a suspicious approximation of snoring. A nap could be as short as ten minutes and would augment the productivity of the saved 1:50 tenfold. But no one will hear of it. It's a sign of weakness, this sleeping, and a good cause for scorn. Canadians caught proposing that it should be considered are shunned, scoffed at, and sent off to "the minor leagues:" those barbarian countries where everybody's got a cot at work or something.October 25, 2001
A joke
A cowboy of modest means wanted to buy a horse, so he prepared to go out of town to the nearby value ranch where horses were known to be fairly cheap. However, as he was leaving the house he realizzed his wife was causing such a drunken ruckus that she was likely to burn the house down, so he brought her along. As they rode down the main street, she kept going <hic><hic>. They arrived at the ranch and the cowboy asked the wheezzing pipe-smoking proprietor about some of his best-value horses, so the old man got his rickety legs out of his rickety chair and took the couple down the stables. "This is Keller Hans," croaked the proprietor, grabbing the mane of a run-down bag of bones "He's blind, he can't hear nuthin', but he can work up a mighty trot when he catches a whiff of a fine filly." "I don't need no horse that can't see nuthin' but spends all day chasin' tail," remarked the cowboy, and they strode aforewards. His wife, meantime, followed going <hic><hic>. They arrived at another stall. "This is Clever Hands," said the old man. "He's got good eyes and good ears and he's quite fast. The only problem widdim is he steals lettuce." "Steals lettuce?" queried the cowboy? "Well, whiskey actually," admitted the rancher. "Ah, I see." <hic><hic> went his wife. They came to the end of the stalls, and the rancher made a show of lifting a large plank to push open an big inner door, then closing it behind them went they passed through. It was pitch black. "This is my pride and joy," boasted the farmer. "A healthy, quick, honest horse that'll do a day's work and then serve you a scotch at the end of the day. His father was the envy of the town, and everyone wanted me to lendim to breed wid them fillies. He's worth twice the others, but I'll let you have 'im for half price." "Why's it so dark in here?" asked the man. He couldn't even see where the rancher nor his wife were standing. "Well that's no problem," answered the rancher. "He's fine as flax; he just don't like to be mounted so you gotta do it in the dark-see. Why'ncha givim a try," he suggested. The cowboy struggled to saddle the stallion in the dark and get the bit in his mouth, but the beast was steady enough. Finally he got himself mounted and navigated him through the stables and into the daylight, where they ran a ways. He returned to the barn to find the rancher wearing a sly grin on his face and his wife strangely sobered up. In fact, she looked somewhat with child if he did dun know no better. Eying her and the rancher suspiciously for some moments, he tried to dismount but immediately the horse reared and started to make like he'd shoot across the ranch. "Not so fast, barley-boy," warned the old man. "You gotta dismount him in the dark too." So the cowboy navigated back into the pitch dark and there dropped down to the ground. "Well, I like 'im," decided the cowboy. "He's a fine stallion and I don't mind the little saddlin' trouble. I'll take 'im." They spat and shook on it and the cowboy prepared to lead the horse away, telling his wife to keep close by. However, as they passed out the gate and circumvented the old man's humming nuclear mind-swap laboratory aparatus, the cowboy noticed sumthin' funny-like about the steed. "Hang on hoe-down here-now," he said, "I got a mind this ain't here the same horse I rode... Get on up on 'im Fanny and lessee if he bucks." She obeyed immediately, so quickly that her dresses were disturbed, from underwhich come tumblin' two or three ripe lettuces. The bewildered cowboy wheeled at a wheezzing sound and was astonished to see Keller Hans smoking a pipe and the old rancher stumbling around blind as a bat. Meanwhile, the previously-enraged stallion had let his wife mount him as docile as a kitten. The cowboy spun side-to-side, arms near his empty gun-belt, astonished. Finally, he settled his gaze on his wife, welded a grim stare, and demanded: "What in shinny's name is smoking aroun' here Fanny?" At that moment he two things happened. His wife threw him a completely dumb stare, looking not as if she hadn't heard what he said, but as if she couldn't even understand plain-speak. He then looked at her steed. <Hic!> went the horse.13. Canadians sense a moral obligation never to drink during work hours.
Not even at lunch! In bars. They seem to avoid the hard stuff. --You jest!, contradicts Mehmet, incredulous. No it's true. They won't touch anything harder than Perrier. And even this last is considered marginally sinful. Most Canadians have the opportunity to drink every lunch hour that they head down to their local imitation pub (see: plaster walls), but they refuse to take advantage, only consuming the most modest amounts when in the company of their closest, most intimately trusted colleagues, when a lunch meeting takes almost the form of a rude mutiny. Mehmet's sitting-room spins, as if he had just circled sixteen times around a coffee-table trying to yank the ham from his dog's mouth. You must be more understanding of Canadian culture, Mehmet. It's not that Canadians have any aversion to drink; far, indeed, far from it. But the culture of drinking starts to emerge at an early age into an oppressive atmosphere of prohibition, stemming very likely from the Prohibition itself, and the enhancing act becomes a gesture of sinful shame. When the legend is such that anyone caught drinking before the permitted age will be ex-communicated, but the minimum age is higher than the age of majority, the resulting consciousness can only be confused. Why can't I, an adult, do what others can do? As the unanswered question is instilled early into every Canadian mind, but alcohol remains available and encouraged by media and the parental example, the only option is for the maturing consciousness to take on the role of protector of the great secret. Thus no one dares to admit that they enjoy what they believe is a sin, but they sin all the more in their quest to learn why they shouldn't. Fingers of free champagne cause nervous laughter.October 24, 2001
Inappropriate
A webpage created entirely with a publishing tool or a standards document converted to Adobe's portable document format from a presentation product is a neglect of its content's intended audience. The fever with which the word content is being used today can only lead to ambiguity. From where there was void, content producers are now springing up like fresh lettuce for rabbits. Content is manhandled like a sweaty boxing glove, packaged in boxes, carted around, translated by caclulating machines into bewildered tongues, painted over and crushed into haughty, nouveau-riche demi-serif fonts. In spite, content is pretty simple: it's just what
October 19, 2001
October 18, 2001
October 17, 2001
Quelle merde
Cet emerdeur de PDG qui vient de partir, ce nouveau offre d'emploi plus bas que l'actuel, ces narcomanes qui ont fait eclater une guerre à l'etage en dessous, avec la police et tout. <my><how><refreshing> On doit maintenant se démenager, recommencer à nouveau la recherche d'un apartement, choisir entre une plus basse salaire et l'inquiétude perpetuelle d'être viré, investiguer le marché d'emploi des villes eloignées des centaines de kilometres, negocier avec le propriataire de notre apart pour le convaincre qu'on va pas payer deux mois de plus, et trouver un façon de transporter tout nos affaires chez mes parents, merde et puis d'être obligé à attendre les buses pendant des heures juste pour sortir faire les courses, et bien conduire partout et manger la nourriture dégoutante. <merde><merde><MERDE!!!!!!!!!!>October 10, 2001

October 09, 2001
<TextFlow <TFTag `A'> <TFAutoConnect Yes> <Notes > # end of Notes <Para <Unique 998197> <PgfTag `Body'> <ParaLine <TextRectID 19> <String `This is the first paragraph. '> <Font <FTag `Emphasis'> <FLocked No> > # end of Font <String `Character formatting begins here and spans to the next paragraph.'> > # end of ParaLine > # end of Para <Para <Unique 998199> <PgfTag `Body'> <ParaLine <Font <FTag `Emphasis'> <FLocked No> > # end of Font <String `This is the second paragraph. Character formatting ends here.'> <Font <FTag `'> <FLocked No> > # end of Font <String ` However, the paragraph continues.'> > # end of ParaLine > # end of Para > # end of TextFlowIt would help you to see exactly what type of character formatting is actually used. Here is approximately what it looks like when opened in FrameMaker: This is the first paragraph. Character formatting begins here and spans to the next paragraph. This is the second paragraph. Character formatting ends here. However, the paragraph continues. Notice that the FrameMaker code marks each paragraph as a "String". If you look just above the line <String `Character formatting begins here and spans to the next paragraph.'> you will notice that there is a definition of a font. That font is called "Emphasis". If you look just above the line that starts "<String `This is the second paragraph," you will see the same font. However, if you look at the other two lines containing a "String," the font just above it is nameless. You can also remark one additional detail: that FrameMaker does not specifically say at what point each character format ends. From these observations, you can see that FrameMaker format of each string by preceding it with the definition of a font. This is different from HTML which uses a tag at the start and end of each group of words it wants to format. Although you, the user, may select a large block of text with your mouse, spanning multiple paragraphs, and then hit "bold," FrameMaker treats each paragraph separately. This is a precise way to avoid confusion between paragraph and character formats, a confusion which often seems to crop up in Word. The Word 97 file format specification is here. Scroll to the section called "Character and Paragraph Formatting Properties" and compare how much more complicated is Word's approach to this problem. Since Word is so internally complex, it is often unpredictable. For example, you'll select some text and want to mark it "bold" and the heading on the next page will also become bold, or something like that. This is what frustrates so many Word users and actually makes purists rant and rave against the software. The FrameMaker code given above, on the other hand, gives you an example of predictability, where unambiguous code uniquely specifies each morsel of information. There are many computer scientists and businessmen who would like to see everything specified so clearly. The resulting utopia would be remarkably efficient. Specification, however, is not likely to catch up to originality, and utopia is not likely to happen.
October 04, 2001
October 02, 2001
September 28, 2001
September 21, 2001
September 14, 2001
Pole orders broiled octopus
Talking with my grandma about all the languages in which my wife is fluent, we eventually moved on to the ones of which my other half has only rudimentary knowledge. German and Japanese are the principals of these latter, picked up from academic and intern experiences. As I searched for the proper Polish word to describe "rudimentary knowledge" of Japanese, my grandma jumped in with a comedic teacher's suggested "Yako tako.*" "Yak" meaning "like," and "tak" meaning "that," most French or English speakers will quickly recognise this turn of phrase, with its teeter-tottering rhyming suffices, as a close relation of "comme ci, comme ca," or "so-so." Like usual, I felt humbled in my ability to express delightful turns of phrase in Polish, but I had to accept my grandma's fluency. Over the long-distance discount call however, there remained a silent sense of smile playing upon my grandma's lips. In my pause, I betrayed a question. "Don't you think," she audibly beamed, "It sounds Japanese?" *pronunciations left in English phonetics, for readabilitySeptember 11, 2001
unhuman
How they penetrated security is not relevant. The attack was creative enough, audacious. But how they co-ordinated their efforts on such a grand scale is unimaginable. The creativity, the discipline, the very passion so rigorously harnessed towards their mighty goal is superhuman. If what they had done had delighted us (as it probably has done their supporters), it would have been a magnificent work of art. But that all this discipline, planning, organisation was entirely directed at taking human life means that its power can come only from the Devil. Their work is so evil that it can only be done by the inhuman.September 06, 2001
August 30, 2001
August 27, 2001
August 20, 2001
August 13, 2001
August 10, 2001
August 08, 2001
July 18, 2001
Spittin more bigger words than jesse jackson
Nearing the turn of the century, a francophone island money holder oriented all its calculation machines and devices towards objects. This meant that every operation performed by the institution--whether abstractly mathematical, intangible or collectively unimaginable--was modelled on something in the real world, something they could name. In other words, the abstract became the concrete, and the infinite became the sum of its parts, and from then on the institution was poised to quickly capitalize on any random brilliance of any of its members, a brilliance usually lost to miscommunication. Brilliant ideas, all agreed, not just the bank but everyone, are great but so often lost, misunderstood and endlessly replicated to the depth of inefficiency just because people can’t explain them. A period vogue, the project failed to deliver on its promise.Sense of style
Pedestrians window shopping on the rue St. Denis were shocked to witness the chief of the bank emerge raging at his smiths. Hot breath spiked from his black mouth like propelled stalactites, despite which evidence of cold weather he fumed in a fashionably light suit. His sense of style, darks to match the coming winter, confident cuts to strike business partners cold, only turned his fury more sinister, but it did not shelter him from the climate. At that moment he made heat seem superfluous. Projecting himself into the bewildered traffic, he spun and fired index at the building, one which really did tremble at his gesture. Inside, desk lamps toppled and fluorescent bulbs decomposed into flickers. Coffee spilled and the mugs were not soon refilled, though eventually the chief’s fury would pass. The pedestrians saw this, and they heard the cracking foundations of the century-young canister. Communication had struck again at brilliance. While ideas abound, inarticulation buries them. "J’en ai marre, bande des cons!" He ranted and raved and made decisions much too hasty for the delicate situation. "I’ve had it with you telling me how to save the world! From now on we will use common business-oriented language instead of small talk! Illustrators will doff their macintoshes and command their vectors line by line!" The chief and his institution miraculously survived, but not before the hard effort sunk into cryptic mundane, the plodding sequential, the repetitive and depressing. more bigger wordsJuly 16, 2001
July 09, 2001
Let's go blind!
Didn't the west just march into Africa handing out sunglasses once again? It seems we thought they would all go blind during the recent eclipse. That would have been terrible! Imagine all of Africa blind! Every single last one of them. Why, those Africans are so superstitious, as many articles in the newspaper, placed prominently so that we could find the most pertinent news first, proved. The most prominent of accounts featured an African grandmother, clearly a representative of her continent by the Canadian editor's decision to give her story a big cut of the first international news page, screaming that everyone was going to die, and sighing in relief when the moon passed ominously away from the sun. Considering how ingrained is the African fear of the solar eclipse, I hope we gave out some nice Oakleys to our black citizens here in the hometowns of all those brave missionaries who distributed on the savage continent. Damn they might have all thrown fits otherwise. Never looked at the sun directly myself during an eclipse. Nor has anyone I know. I'm glad that science has once and for all proven that we must never ever do this. What a relief to not have to make such decisions. There must be a billion things that science has "decided" that nobody bothers to question. There's not much difference between that and blindly following some myth like the African grandmother's one that the paper carefully ridiculed. It happens in every age really, and then then next age makes fun of the last one. I'm sure there are a lot of scientists out there who don't like their jobs, too. Everybody who goes to university meets tons of students who are just in school to party. Then they gain the title "scientist" and all of a sudden they're socially responsible? Severe doubts. Bunch of beer-swilling retards telling us what to do. Probably the majority of them.July 07, 2001
How to fill a beaker
With an emphasis on safety, the department teaches that acid poured into water will cause the harmless liquid to splash out, while the reverse operation could displace the more dangerous liquid. Kids seeking high marks, therefore, must follow the former procedure when handling their beakers. Mr Simmons professed this advice to his class with a dignified sense of wisdom. He was undoubtedly right and science was undoubtedly incorrigible once again. He navigated a curious method of divulging the knowledge; one often regarded as socratic: he proposed that his class may know the answer and simply asked them which of the two obvious alternatives the class preferred. And why. Perhaps the class got it, perhaps not. Whether it was a student or the teacher who finally released the reason was less consequential than the unanimity with which it was received. A clear, solid lesson brought to us by science. The essence of science itself in fact. Not at all. The lesson, which you should practice if you are actually mixing acid and water, ignores completely the scientific method. Imagine how science would have arrived at the same conclusion: hypothesis: water poured into acid is better than acid poured into water experiment: student will lift beaker of water and inverse it until said liquid falls into beaker of acid below; will repeat the reverse procedure observations: student splashed with acid, runs to eyewash, breaks beaker; reverse procedure, student pessimistic but unhurt perform experiment repeatedly conclusion: actually, acid poured into water better than water poured into acid hypothesis, theory, law, etc... Clearly, the result comes about from common sense, or "wisdom" much more naturally than from the scientific method. Yet science claims it for its own with one might say arrogance. But we won't go so far as that. We all know what this is another case of. It's--high-tech bull-smoke
July 06, 2001
New to Bible readings?
(For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing, because our days upon earth are shadow:) JOB 8:9
Now, most of you probably haven't gotten around to reading the Bible in great detail yet, but you may appreciate this quote nevertheless, which is quite striking at first glance isn't it? I mean, no academia needed to figure this one out is there? Pretty exciting stuff. Look: there's a smiley after the word "shadow"! Clearly the writer of the Bible is communicating a gesture of sympathetic cheer following this somewhat bleak quotation. And he has found no better way to communicate it than the method so recently brought into vogue as the colon-closed parenthex sideways smiling face!
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July 04, 2001
July 01, 2001
Je style comme un crocodile
Once we boarded two successive buses and his head passed where I disembarked, and now we get a tele-communication (vox), a fewer than hundred meter warning of the black that would overcloud us in ninety seconds. (time is an invention of the west) and whence space (that too lives continue without) and liberation from dimension breeds (breeds cold water)June 26, 2001
June 25, 2001
Amerigo, Amejigo, Amexico
Blew a tire this morning. Blew a tire. Blue a tire. Blue a tire. Blue attire. Blew attire. Blue attire this morning. Blue dockers, blue suede shoes, navy socks, marine mariner's cap, jaunty pipe, eyes cocked at a passing lass, blue tattoo: of anchor. Bought my dockers at the Docks; blew my pipe at seagull flocks; bought my socks at cents apiece; paid for blow from fatman's niece. Snorted blow, set out to sea; windward laylard laid a lee; swung to starboard, snossed the snocks; rebowed the toil through nowling lochs. Celebrated nautically; blew my boy and he blows me. Let the lemon course my chest, the stream to lick; to fondle, zest, Pectorals at their brazen best, and sprit waysporting south-south-west. While shaving, blade glints in my eye, Through mirrored doorway, I tears bespy.June 23, 2001
June 20, 2001
June 19, 2001
XXX-tian Films
After Christian Death Metal, one wonders how far the Herd of the Lord could take its superimposition on average society. Since all groups need to be eventually saved, the apostles must take great pains to establish common interests with every diverse one of them. Once on familiar terms with any such assembly, Christians can easily show that their activity is only enhanced by the presence of the father, the son, and the holy pamphlet. The aforesaid assembly can then assimilate into the true body of Christianity and proceed to target a new interest. One of the potential goals for future efforts is the porn industry, for where better could Christ share his vision? Christian porn?, you ask. Why, is that not a little unjustifiable? Hardly. While at first the two communities may seem irreconcilable, their differences are really only in minor areas that effort can, as easily as profanity in secular death metal, circumvent. There are only a few essential steps to follow.- All on-screen sex performed by the married It is un-Christian to have extra-marital relations, but not to watch them! Therefore, by the simple device of having all actors who engage in sex on-screen to be married to one another, pornography is as holy as water.
- All watchers of on-screen sex married Masturbation, the most common use of secular pornography, is a mortal sin. Therefore to establish a Christian use it is necessary that the users are ordained by God to be aroused by the material and proceed by its effects to have a child.
- All actors portray married personnages This is not an absolute requirement, but any (married) actors portraying umarried sex must also be immediately portrayed to go to Hell, where they must be severely pained and punished, and if any of the punishment results in more sex must be sent even further into Hell, there being approximately nine circles of aforesaid location for this purpose. Thus some fascinating and promising narratives may occur, perhaps more imaginative even than the secular versions.
- The disadvantage of monogamous couplings may be eliminated only by death Of course secular porn boasts the flexibility of mixed coupling, which in Christian porn becomes difficult to implement due to reason #1, above. However, in the case of real-life death of one of the actors, the widowed member is permitted to remarry and if sufficient foresight is put into the project, it is possible that for example the same Christian woman may have on-screen sex with two (or more) different Christian men providing that each of the men dies after the act and the woman marries his successor. At this point there is still no sinning involved.
- Lesbian scenes and three-somes are out of the question The only possible implementation of Christian lesbian scenes would have to be through camera trickery, wherein portrait shooting suggests labio-lingual contact and stage shooting shows two women naked in proximity, though not actually touching. Another suggestion is to use a well-shaven husband's lips in a vertical position to reasonably simulate a vagina which the wife could proceed to stimulate with her tongue. Nevertheless, as even suggestions of this type of activity are sinful, care should be taken to advertise that they are not really happening by camera shots which reveal the tricks. It can the be left to the viewers' imaginations in the intervening seconds to suppose what they may. However, as even imagination of this acitivity leads straight to Hell, those who choose to imagine it shall go straight to Hell.
June 14, 2001
June 12, 2001
June 08, 2001
June 06, 2001
11. Canadians make a big deal out of going outside
As soon as warm weather hits (cf. 1999), Canadians are all boasting about how they love being outside and how beautiful it is outside. They spend a short time outside, taking advantage of this warm weather (cf. summer clothing). In the words of one anonymous Californian "I don't see the big deal. I'm from California myself ... <short pause>... and I go inside; I go outside; it's all the same." He goes on to mumble something about "brush fires" which the noise of the streetcar entering the underground tunnel at Spadina makes difficult to hear, and when it calms he is already trying to pick up the girl he was talking to, leveraging the fact that he is from California in his pursuit. It is likely that his point is that the climate in California is relatively static year-round, and the brush-fires sometimes even make warm weather less attractive than cooler. Thus inhabitants of said state show a marked difference to the Canadian preoccupation with beautiful, warm, inviting days that it would be "a shame to waste playing video games" (cf. Star Control 2; Dr. Mario).June 05, 2001
June 01, 2001
May 30, 2001
May 25, 2001
May 24, 2001
May 22, 2001
May 15, 2001
10. Canadians read books on the subway
What else are they going to do? Well, for example, they could read more newspapers. But they seem to prefer the weightier and more fantastic forms of literature. This is an obvious indication that Canadian lives are so horribly mundane that that they simply must escape from reality at the end of their day. Or at its beginning. But we err to theorise where we should only observe because all our theories could turn out flawed. After all perhaps the reading Canadians choose is actually harsh, gritty realism, even darker and depressing than our normal lives. Perhaps our newspapers (cf. Post, Star, Globe, Sun, Record), offer too little fact and too much fancy for our tastes. So the interesting question that blossoms is what in fact are Canadians reading? Statistics Canada should have the answer to that, but they don't seem to have the convenience of a working website, which leads us to:Corollary 10.1: The Statistics Canada website is down.
9. Les Canadiens ne font pas de queue
Ca se voit surtout devant les boulangeries. Il parait que le Canada est tellement bien organisé qu'on n'a jamais besoin d'attendre. C'est probablement puisqu'il n'a pas de boulangeries au Canada, mais peu importe. Dans la poste: pas tellement de queue; dans une banque, pas de queue non plus. Peut-être la seule fois qu'on peut voir les Canadiens faire la queue c'est dans les bureaux gouvernmentales. Mais bon, c'est normal.May 09, 2001
May 04, 2001
8. Canadians rent textbooks to high school students.
And a good thing it is to see the government spending money on something. These books aren't always in bad shape either. Typically, how it works is that every eight to ten years the government issues some new editions of textbooks. In the inside cover of each textbook (right inside the cover, where there is a page glued to the cardboard), there is a large stamp. This stamp has the form of a table, and the top headings in the table are "Name," "Date," "Signature" and "Condition." Each student is obliged to complete the first empty row of this table (reading from top to bottom, cf. "Left to Right"), indicating in the leftmost column the condition of the textbook with some witty adjective/invective. At the end of the year the students must return these books, usually during the respective exam, and if they don't they are threatened by the administration. The great advantages of this system are numerous. One, they don't clutter up everyone's house with useless highschool texts for the rest of their lives. Two, they save money on books, or at least publishers make less money selling books, I mean, you can't make a killing in the textbook publishing business I bet because it's so unpredictable and I mean really they keep those books forever. Three, it is amusing and thus motivating for the students to see how funny people in their math textbook pictures dressed ten years ago. Like in grade six when sideburns were really "out" for example all the people in our math textbook photos had sideburns! What a riot! (Cf. "Quebec WTO summit") As mentioned before, it is also one of the few areas in which Canadians can visibly note signs of government spending. They sure do take a lot of taxes here, but they so rarely pretend to be giving it back. Sign of an immature country. (Cf. "Taxes")7. Canadians wear seatbelts in the back
Unless they're rebels. But note that you have to be a rebel not to wear a seatbelt in the back, and any average Canadian will snap right in from the moment they sit their butt down. Some will even spend some moments rooting around under the peanut shells and gum to pull out the buckle from beneath the seat cushions. This buckle will often have been stuck so long under the customary pile of rubbish that it will actually belong to another car! Yes, and this is how it happens: Canadians often own one car per person, and this person situates himself in the top-left quadrant of the car (imagining the car stood on its back end), and if he ever goes anywhere with another Canadian, that guest situates himself in the top-right quadrant. If they have a third guest, that guest probably takes their own car; the advantage of this being that it is more expensive. Therefore, by the time a sufficient supply of immigrants delivers a third guest to any given vehicle, a large quantity of peanut shells and gum has buried the seat belt buckles in the back seat. These buried buckles can then go unremarked for such a long time that the car is actually recycled and returned to the road in a new form, be it a Toyota Corolla or a Ford Sundance, and the buckles remain from the previous frame. Therefore, whenever they are dug out and tried, they do not fit.Corollary 7.1: The people in the back seats of Canadian cars are immigrants
May 02, 2001
May 01, 2001

6. Canadians always use the formal form of address
Same as Brazilians, to the delight of the Portuguese! However, our cultural predecessors, ie. the English, have also snobbily eliminated the informal address from their speech; now Canadians, English and Americans (I mean U.S. Americans!) all insist on the highest standards of appelation in writing and speech. The formal "you" is used when respectfully addressing higher-ranked, elderly, new acquaintances equally to long-time friends.April 26, 2001
5. Canadians drink milk from bags.
Yes, and it's often 1 or 2%, which refers to the amount of fat content. Canadians are extremely conscious of fat content. However, their consciousness unfortunately comes from advertising encouraging them to consume more fat content. A marketing battle ensues. The milk bags are clear plastic, tubular, of 1L volume. One needs scissors to open them, which leads many Canadians to have a pair of scissors in the kitchen (a good idea in any case). However, a bag of milk with a hole in it can't stand up on its own, and therefore all Canadians must own a cheap plastic jug, such as the ubiquitous Mistral available suspended in grocery stores above the milk aisle. The jug is made to hold the tubular milk bag, and sports a handle to facilitate pouring. I'm not sure if I've described the shape of the bag precisely, because it--unlike a real tube--has corners. It is the corner which is snipped to create the spout.April 25, 2001
4. Canadians have their summer clothes on contant stand-by
Summer is, after all, rare; therefore a day of 20-degree weather in the midst of an icy week provokes an instant flesh-party where everyone tries to appear casually undressed and suntanning themselves in the ephemeral sun. Don't know why the sun so suddenly decides to dip closer to Canada every once in a while. Perhaps it hits turbulence. But it levels off just as fast and the winter clothes need to be back on the next day. Hence our extra closet space, and special numbness to frost necessary for those days when the winter clothes are not held at sufficient ready.1. Canadians use towels to dry themselves.
When our bodies are wet, either from swimming or showering, we use a rectangular piece of absorbant fabric to dry them. This fabric is made of natural fibres and is cross-stiched its entire surface in tiny loops of thread, which provide the absorbency. Without trying to get too deeply into sewing terms, suffice it to say that the towels are generally the dimensions of breadth of shoulders by anywhere from half a person's height to his full height. Each person has his/her own, which is washed every couple of weeks, at which point it may be reused by the same or someone else. Canadians get wet in pools, lakes, oceans, rivers, baths, or showers (cf. "Showers"), but in all but the most exceptional circumstances the liquid of moistening is water.2. Canadians read from left to right.
Thankfully they also write this way. This practise is standard and poses smearing problems for left-handed Canadians, who in traditional Canadian education are not forced to switch to their right hand. When reading Canadian text, it is expected that any given letter will be followed by its successor on the right side, and that streams of these letters can be collected together into groups. When these streams are collected in a continuous manner, they may make sense; otherwise no.3. Canadians drink water-based beverages.
Yes, this is the same liquid with which they wash themselves (cf. "Shower"), but typically these are separated into different productions. Washing water often arrives at domiciles through pipes, a complex nation-wide system of hollow tubes. This unfortunately prevents Canadians from nomadic tendencies. Beverages arrive in the domicile carried by Canadian individuals, almost always the individuals who will consume them, in flavoured varieties, very seldom in natural form. However, Canadians do retain a romantic affinity with the natural which struggles against dominating forces of artifice. Note that francophone Canadians, whom are called "French" by anglophone Canadians, use the term "breuvage" for beverage. These are but examples, but a full list is available on the web. In fact, a full list is available in every Canadian's head. The problem is that Canadians don't seem to know this, and often summarise the entirety in a single cross-check. The only way to stop the common complaint that we don't know who we are, however, is to write it all down. Left to right.April 24, 2001
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Title Page
Open D:\cvs-work\eng\doc\mif\titlepage.mif #Open D:\cvs-work\eng\doc\mif\template-roman.mif
Note the clumsy pound sings at the end of two lines. They might look bad, but this is the key to the multiple-compiler. The two "Open" commands open files in FrameMaker. But the pound signs are comments. That is, when the batcher runs, everything following a pound is ignored. Therefore, to display the file in Internet Explorer, all one has to do is put the html tags after the pound signs! The code actually looks like this:
# <h2>Title Page</h2> Open D:\cvs-work\eng\doc\mif\titlepage.mif # <br> Open D:\cvs-work\eng\doc\mif\template-roman.mifNow would you call this file an html file or a FrameMaker batcher file? It works in both. In fact, it works very well in both: in FrameMaker it opens the required files and formats them with the help of succeeding commands; in Internet Explorer it uses headings to highlight the sequence of commands to make it infinitely more readable. As a technical writer, I tend to think of Java files as input to the tools that will produce my printable pdf documents. I often forget that Java files actually contain source code. The fact is that they do both, but developers use javac to compile them, while writers use javadoc. Java is a language which looks closely based on C++ syntax, at least in its primitive control structures. Is it possibly then to make an ambiguous source file which both a c compiler and javac will interpret? Javadoc demonstrates that it is possible to write an infinite number of compilers for the same source code. In fact this is the principle of data storage and retrieval that defines how we use computers to store information: your entire life could be stored in a single bit if only it pointed to the right entry in a table. Boo!