Every Devil

Why I would still work for British Petroleum
-And Supporting The Toronto Police-



People have a lot of difference reasons they end up where they are. Family, location, pay, challenges, ethics, morals and rewards are all factors that play out their roles in our lives. Finding our place in the work world is not always about finding the perfect job. Sometimes it means deciding what we can offer and ignore. I can offer you honest insightful work. I possess creative drive and an unprecedented focus. I can offer you three things: My maturing skills, my loyalty and the pliable mind of youth.

I see conceding ethics in a positive light. It’s not about giving up something you believe in. It can be about the pursuit of new knowledge and procedure; a view from the other side. You can be an honest caring person and still lie through your teeth about the benefits or risks involved with X. You can do whatever you want, and the secret to living with it is by making those skills part of your arsenal, not part of your nature.

The way I see it, helping British Petroleum improve their image would be a monumental task, a chore which I would take on whole-heartedly. A failure like this could happen to anyone, it just happened to be BP. It’s happened to others before. And I would have worked for them too, all of them.
Enron, Exxon-valdez, AIG, Goldman Sachs, Bernard Madoff, all of them. You know why? Because they handled themselves incredibly poorly. When a company is in a haemorrhaging state like that they need all the good help they can get and they’re willing to pay the big money for it. With some camera time I’d even like to represent these companies in front of their enemies.

But let’s talk about Toronto for a moment. This city is not a “police state” and it never will be. Activism is one thing and I give props to all of you U of T and Montreal students with your ironic protests. Down with American Apparel! You fucking idiots. I used to be in a lifestyle where I didn’t really like the police. I would not show them my ID if they asked me during some random day. But during an international event like this? What are you so afraid of? Why do people get so self-assured at the chance to “voice their rights”. I have rights too but I’ll be damned if you catch me anywhere near downtown Toronto and you know why? Because the police are trying really hard to do their fucking jobs, so why would assholes like me and you want to go down and make it worse?

I stand by the boys in blue. I would say they should be more aggressive if anything. But hey, I’d like to thank for Toronto for the recent media coverage. You’d think this was Tiananmen Square if you’d never been here before.

To recap, every devil needs a smiling face.

-Kade

Redundant Music

So this weekend my girlfriend and I went to my parents place. My brother is getting married in August and his fiancée had her wedding-shower on Saturday. It was an awesome weekend all around, I spent the day on Saturday then with friends from years gone by and the rest of the weekend with my girlfriend and family on the lake. But, I got a call on Sunday from a friend on the other side of the country that sent me into a self-analysis of missed opportunities and alternate possibilities.


My friend that called me, well let’s just say he’s A+. This kid does digital recording and audio wizardry the likes of few others. In our separate lives in Peterborough we devoured our ideal cultures. In a bender of self-depravation we sold our souls for more music. Condensing just below the surface was a raw energy waiting for a vessel. When he called me I realized that if things had been different, I’d never have had to write this blog, I never would have met any of you that are reading this and I would be rolling around behind a gigantic switchboard.






That`s Recording Arts Canada, it`s on Peter St. in Toronto.
It`s a gorgeous building with a program unrivalled by nearly anyone in North America.

It was my buddy that had graduated from there that convinced me to explore the opportunity.

This is a brief overview from the RAC site.

``At RAC, creativity is fostered through inspiration, skilled guidance, and world-class facilities. RAC's staff and faculty include top, award-winning industry pros. Our programs of study are designed with the help of the leading technology companies, industry professionals, and artists in music, sound and digital imaging.``


I did not care if the music industry had died, I wanted to do what I loved no matter what.


!!!BAM!!!$14 000!!!BAM!!!

Wow, for tuition for 9 months not including any other expense, how could I go wrong?

Then no more than a week later I got a cheque from WSIB for $13 500.

I was torn between two worlds.


Do I go to school and not have any money to do anything with or do I consider my life first. I love my girlfriend with all of my heart, we`re sick of the city we`re in and we want to do something different.

So I start to weigh the pros and cons and everything in between. And I come up with an answer.

I`m not going to go to RAC now or ever. I`m going to look at some other choices and in the mean time I`m going to play my fucking music like I paid fourteen thousand dollars to do so.


And that`s exactly what I did until a few months ago.

Now my strings are warped and rusty, my beast a dusty wreck and all of my trinkets and equipment has been forgotten.

Music has taken me on a roller-coaster and I feel that I owe it to myself to bring it back into the forefront of my life. When I`m done what I am doing and I find the time for myself I will play again.




-kade

Shallow Like A Valley

So I guess this is my second post. There’s a lot of stuff I skip or forget to tell people just because it seems irrelevant to me. Times and places and things that have been important to me just seem to fade out. My passions and aspirations blink from my mind when I’m talking to someone. Where I want to be and what has gotten me where I am are two questions that I rarely want to tackle.

I blame it on a lot of things.

At this point I would like to stress that I jump around a fair bit.

When I talk about “loving” or “enjoying” music and writing I don’t mean it in a figurative way. Writing and listening to certain genres or albums leave me with an explicit feeling of self-fulfilment. Enveloping yourself in a melody or passage is a feeling that social interaction cannot touch. Now, that’s not to say I’m socially-handicapped or agoraphobic. All it means is that when I have the time to read, write or listen to music I do it; with fervour.

So yeah, I blame my lack of personal discussion on a lot of things. One is the deep love and inspiration from the arts that I find hard to express with my words. Why would I bother when I could care less what you are going to tell me? I mean honestly, your opinion will not hinder my judgement. (I feel that this very statement warrants an entire post)

Another thing I blame is this self-inflicted act of becoming so fucking jaded. The internet has destroyed my brain and corrupted more or less all of my faith in both the individual and the group. News from around the world exposing you to circumstances you could never conjure can be too much sometimes. Aside from the real world trauma and duress there is the seedy underbelly of the world wide web.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” is something that I think quite often when trolling Digg or Cracked. The level of emotion that I feel reading true accounts of war-stories or under-publicized statistics baffles me. The real stories are the ones that get swept underneath a carpet of pre-teen madonnas, celebrity sex-addiction and god-damn Twilight.


Guh-faw. I’ve also come to realize it’s better to stop a rant before it can fully materialize.

Until next time...

-Kade

-30-