Saturday, March 31, 2012

Join the Earth Hour Revolution!

In celebration of Earth Hour, we present the premier of the short Documentary, Grass' War on Global Warming.  Follow the journey of Grass, founder of the People for the Ethical Treatment of Earth, an activist who is out to save us from ourselves, and Mother Nature, no matter the costs:

Grass' War on Global Warming Part 1:

Grass' War on Global Warming Part 2:

And a treat from the archives of P.E.T.E., it's Grass' Earth Hour Spectacular.  Spend this important effort in conservation as Grass takes you through his apartment and offers you tips on how you can make a difference in reducing your carbon footprint.

Earth Hour Special Part 1 of 3
The most important environmental event of the year. Experience the spectacle and magic of The PETE Network's Earth Hour Special.

Earth Hour Special Part 2 of 3
Part 2 of The PETE Network's Earth Hour Special takes you on a journey into PETE Headquarters. Grass gives us an exclusive behind the scenes look at The PETE Network. He guides the camera crew on an eco-conscientious adventure of what goes on during such an historic event. Support a cause that is actually pushing for change on a global scale. Subscribe to The PETE Network today.

Earth Hour Special Part 3 of 3
This is the final episode of The PETE Network's special coverage of Earth Hour with Grass right in the heart of PETE Headquarters . It's all about dedication; without a passion for saving the planet, the message of environmental awareness cannot be spread. Smart scientists agree that sea levels may rise by 7 to 23 inches by the end of the century. If you want to make a pledge to stop this rise in sea levels and save those living in the coastal regions, please subscribe to The PETE Network.

We hope you take something away from this dire message and make a difference in the planet, because as Grass observes, we only have one Earth, so KNOCK IT OFF!

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

The Harrowing Adventures of James Cameron!

Date: March 26th 2012, filmmaker James Cameron reaches the bottom of the Mariana Trench, deepest point on the surface of the Earth, beating Sir Richard Branson...

In his GOD Chair.
In the race to conquest the furthest boundaries of our world, few men have endeavored to the lengths of the brave, Canadian filmmaker, James Cameron.  An alchemist of light whose films have grossed $1,916,423,619.00 worldwide, has never been one to settle for global domination of the box office.

Yeah...we all should pretty much just close our Twitter accounts, he won.

Some men are put on this earth to take dominion over the beauty and chaos of the natural world, and James Cameron continues to take steps towards fulfilling his destiny!

Alone, encased in neon steel, James Cameron prepares, basically,

to penetrate the deepest slit in the Earth.

One can only thrill at the harrowing expeditions of Kapuskasing's native son who has employed his funds to make discoveries in deepest, darkest fathoms of the Earth.

(Unlike other billionaire filmmakers who instead spend every waking hour and dime trying to further destroy the Original Star Wars Trilogy).

King of the World at 2:55

A man of action, one can never say James is content to have "interests" in any subject.  He's hardcore, which we can all admire - a man who goes overboard with his hobbies and passions to not only learn everything about something, like the history of the Titanic, but to become part of the story.  The man made more than 30 dives down to the damn wreck alone...

A true romantic, (the man must be passionate, having been married 5 times, usually to actresses he's directing) he's considered by some to be professional perfectionist with a reputation as a mad-tyrant on the film set, in the editing room, on the scoring stage etc.

Discovering the United States of South America.

But you must forgive him of all that since his other vocation, that of explorer, even if it is ego-driven, continues to add to our library of documented images of shit never-before seen, solve the decades old debate of who really sunk the Bismarck (Germans scuttled her, Jim prooved it dawg), and now head down to collect samples form an environment so alien it might as well be on Pandora.  God speed to you James, the greatest explorer of new frontiers since Jean-Luc Picard.

Friday, March 23, 2012

The True North Strong & Pissed Off!

Few things can warm the cockles of your heart like seeing your hometown grace the front page of the national newspapers, even if the accompanying picture is of drunken college kids dancing around a blazing car fire, whilst pelting police and firefighters with debris. That's how one neighbourhood in my dear olde London towne (London, Ontario - not the real one) spent St. Patrick's Day this year. 

Ye Olde London havin' a bit O' fun this St. Paddy's Day.

This latest display of hooliganism is one of several violent outbursts in Canadian cities in the last 2 years that have got some sabres rattling about the declining image that Canada is presenting to the rest of the world.

Vancouver, 2011: No Worries Bro, I just won't tag it as me.

Between the massive, chaotic demonstrations during the 2010 Toronto G20 Summit, last year's Vancouver Stanley Cup Riot, and other localized episodes of angst like this past St. Paddy's Day, the rumors are apparently starting to circle among our international neighbours...“Everything all right at home, there eh?”
Toronto G20 Summit: White People Democracy is my fav spectator sport.

As a Canadian I am reminded frequently by my countrymen that I have to contend with all sorts of Canadian stereotypes, that is to say, the little idiosyncrasies for which we used to be known around the world: Beavers, Maple Syrup, Hockey, our use of the word “aboot” and all that fun shit. Since I haven't traveled much since my hip replacement, I’m yet to experience any of these questions about igloos and polar bears firsthand, but of the aforementioned traits, chief among them has usually been our good manners.

Goddammit, we totally had them sayin' it for us!

It’s most readily apparent in doorways when two people heading toward each other meet at the threshold. One will open the door and, as there is only enough width for one Cannuck to shimmy through, a stand-off usually ensues. “After you,” Mr. Door-opener offers and is met with a sheepish “oh, no – please you first.” It usually ends when a third party, who actually needs to be somewhere, brushes passed the pair without a word.

 In this case it’s my opinion that our characteristic gracious and meek demeanor is, generally speaking, a common trait of the true north, strong and free. So if we go back to the 2010 Winter Olympic Games, it was kinda refreshing, if a little embarrassing to see the headlines from newspapers around the world calling us, arrogant, ungracious, even downright rude.

Relaxing after ripping the tits off every other team on Earth.

We were accused of playing up the home-field advantage by not letting other teams practice at our facilities an equal share, that our facilities were so hardcore they were killing off our Luge competition in practice runs, and how our woman’s hockey team was so mercilessly cutting down every other team that the Olympic Committee entertained the idea of a "mercy rule."

How proud was I to see that our nation was banding together as it never had before in sharing these victories. It was our turn to take not just Hockey but all those lesser, really weird sports that we’re good at, and ram them down the world’s throat.

We didn't burn any shit down at the Olympics, we were great hosts.

In our chauvinistic behavior we were compared to Americans! This was maybe the start of a cresting wave of pent-up false-modesty, alcoholism, and impotent rage that in the ensuing 20 odd months has continued to crash against the shores off restraint hard enough to knock Bob Gainey's daughter off the deck of a Scooner.

Since we were blue-ballin' we took it out on the Stanley Cup Final.

Maybe we're just tired of maintaining appearances of niceties. After all, we're kinda in an abusive relationship with Prime Minister Stephen Harper's Conservative Majority Government that's trying to lay pipe without consent, roll back retirement, build larger prisons for all the future criminals the intrusive anti-crime bills like C-30 and C-10.

Whatever your thoughts on the G20 bullshit, that's still pretty awesome.

Perhaps when someone across the pond sees us trashing our biggest, most beautiful cities (and the for some reason, London) and is moved to ask “everything ok at home, Canada?” Before we can answer, our Prime Minister chimes in “Oh she's just being a little silly,” **elbows us in the ribs so we'll peep out in agreement, “um..yeah...I just walked into the door...again..” 

Don't worry, if it was a baby Seal it'd be fucked.

It could be we've been choking on this rap for too long and it's time we drop it and make some noise to reveal that underneath the plaid jackets and the wool toques, we’re just as competitive as the Americans, as loud as the Italians, as rude as the French, and as drunk as the Irish.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

History Bites, Part One

I believe it was Winston Churchill who said "Study History...STUDY HISTORY!! BLAHGHGA!!!"  So to that end, I find it easier to remember important world events through helpful little snippets, cute and informative little bites of episodes in human history, in an easy to digest cartoon format.  Here are a couple to keep in mind for your next mid term:

April 10th, 1912
"New York City, Here I Come!"

April 15th, 1865
"This play is just the thing to take my mind
off those troubling nightmares of late."

January 28th, 1986
"Next Stop, Neptune!"

Stay tuned, kids...

Monday, March 12, 2012

Vampires Suck

I've never understood the obsession in pop-culture with Vampires.  Same with Zombies while we're at it. Guess I've always been more of a cybernetic organism fan -- Gimmie mad science over the occult anyday.
Umm, nope.

Lurking in the shadows, on the very precipice of our darkest nightmares are creatures of pure heart stopping terror. Tall, dark and mysterious they have struck fear into the hearts of every culture on the planet, the very reflections of Lucifer himself: Vampires.

Wesley's bout to go Demolition Man on them pasty kids.

They are the stalkers of the night who roam in search of young, beautiful victims from whom to drain the very life. The undead that have for centuries existed only in folklore emerging upon nightfall to feast upon the living, are not but rumors and superstition, they exist in our present, living among us.

Fackin Vampyras!

Today’s modern vampire has, of course, had to evolve to stay with the societal trends. The F.W. Murnau image of the coffin dwelling, sunlight and garlic fearing man-beast is very much a thing of the past. Whereas in the vampires of lore lived in secret, like spiders of the night baiting their victims with webs of sensual passion, concealing their murderous agendas, the vampire of the 21st century takes a much less deceitful approach.

I'm more of a Pranic Vampire, persay.

Today’s killers of the night carry the stigma of being “openly vampire.” While varying in age, most are white, underweight males who are socially inept, marking their faces with eyeliner, concealing their eyes beneath round sunglasses while garbed in flowing black overcoats, and usually working the 5 to 10pm shift at your local telemarketing firm.

 It's Pat, he's "openly" retarded.

And they absolutely love Anne Rice, and worse, the kids are nuts for Stephenie Meyer. They gobble down every page of vampire fiction as it comes of the press; the vampire in the know won’t be found haunting any belfries or castles, preferring to creep murderously round the two for one clearance sale at Chapters like a black widow towards her helpless prey. They creep across the world-wide-web hooking up with other necro-maniacal incubi through sinister RPG’s, arranging blood-drinking rituals in the High Priest’s grandma’s basement while she's at bingo. Kinky shit. 

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Up, Up and Away in My Beautiful Balloon!

Whoah there, Jules Verne - appreciate the matching tux and Balloon.

A long time ago when I was maybe eight or nine years old, I slept through a summer afternoon trying to break a fever. I awoke late in the day to the commotion of a crowd gathering outside the house and dashed downstairs in a daze. What was everyone looking at, I pondered in my sleepy sick state until I stumbled onto the front lawn. I looked to the right of me, I looked to the left.

From that height, it'll be like a block of cement chucked
off an overpass into oncoming traffic.

Then I looked up to see something I will never forget. Slowly descending closer and closer to my roof was a massive red balloon; it eclipsed the entire sky. And dangling below it was what I refer to as the balloons testicles but is really just a basket of two pricks. They waved down at us and everyone who was watching waved back as the balloon people kept pulling that thing that makes balloon fire in an attempt to gain altitude. I vowed vengeance that day.

They're just so fackin gay, I know you don't like me
using that word, but fuck, just look at them.

The next time you see a hot air balloon floating gracefully in the evening sky, imagine how satisfying it would be to fire some kind of projectile towards it, popping the canvas and allowing all that hot air to escape. I myself enjoy character balloons. There is nothing more rewarding in this world then popping a giant Tony the Tiger and following it’s trail down towards the city; extra points if your balloon lands on a playground and smothers some children. But I digestable.

Gumby takes the Dirigible Subway.

I'm cool with balloons on a smaller scale like at a birthday party, especially if I get a chance to get doped up on helium and start going off on a rant. Somehow vulgarity, ethnic slurs, and even the “C” word (not cancer, I mean cunt) come off so much funnier when the you sound like sound like Alvin. 

Conversly, I'm even cool with larger scale dirigibles like the Hindenburg, since that thing went down like a boss. However even to this day, the normally merry site of a colourful canvas bulb with a basket pisses me off.

Rare occurance in nature: a Fail so big it becomes Awesome.

So to get me through an encounter when they start popping up, I came up with a little guided meditation that you can feel free to employ in your own encounters with whatever it is you despise. Upon glimpsing one in the sky, I simply take a deep breath, close my little eyes, and repeat the following mantra:

Behold, a big red hot-air balloon. Can you see it, up there in the sky? Such a pretty balloon it is. Can you see that it’s coming down low enough for you to make out the shapes of people in the basket? See them pulling on the chain to make fire so the balloon can go higher and higher? Good.

Now picture that same balloon with the same people in the basket only this time the machine that makes the fire for the balloon to go higher and higher in the sky has exploded and the canvas of the balloon is catching fire. Do you see it? The balloon is starting to fall down to the ground really quickly.

Can you see the people in the balloon? No? You’re right; the flames are too big to see them. Good for you! Keep watching, I think the balloon is falling really, very fast now isn’t it? Oh my. I sure hope they land in a big swimming pool. Don’t you?

What a pretty balloon it was :(