Who cares headline of the day:

Justin Trudeau Smoked Pot

Ok, maybe it was yesterday's headline, but I had other things on my lack-of-mind then.

This headline has as much relevance to me as Justin Bieber is a Douchbag or Ben Affleck is Playing Batman. I couldn't care less if I tried. Maybe it would do the rest of parliament good if they all took a 4:20 some day. And it's not like I'll be voting for the phony little weasel anyway, right?



Nah, I'll be voting for some other phony little weasel.

Incidentally, and not that you should care about this any more than I care about most Justins, but I'm actually in favour of legalisation of marijuana. Legalise it, regulate it, tax it (especially the tax it part. Just think of the returns on a pot tax)... that certainly has to make more sense than having the court systems spending so much time sending people to jail for carrying a spliff or two.

Anyway. I've totally forgotten what this post was going to be about now.



Hmmm.

Oh yeah, selling out.

I just finished reading an article by someone (doesn't matter who) that I really admire. I admire his talent, I admire the skill and uniqueness with which he expresses himself, and I got a good deal of enjoyment out of the column.

That is, until I got to the bottom and found out that it was a sponsored article. Sponsored by a company directly interested in the subject matter.



Well, great. Way to lose all of your credibility in one sentence, writer.

Now, I'm not saying that professional writers shouldn't be paid. Hell, technically even I get paid to write in my job (definitely not for this pointless blog, though). But as soon as you're paid by a company to write about something that they're concerned with, you're a shill. A well-expressed shill, but a shill nonetheless. And this guy already makes enough money that he had no need to be a shill.

Sigh.

I'm not going to say I'm disillusioned by this because the world's the world and famous people sell out all the time. I'm also not going to say that I want all art to be pure, since that's pretentious bulltwaddle. Nah, all I'm going to say is why don't we all just forget that this ever happened and watch a spider dance? No, seriously. It's absolutely fantastic. Please watch it even if you don't like spiders. And it's a pretty spider, to boot.

Besides, spider dancing has to be the purest of art, right? It's not like they're getting paid or anything.

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Ignorant truck update:

When I got home from work, the floor was already thumping. It thumped all evening, and was still thumping when I went to bed. Luckily, my brain was finally tired enough that it managed to ignore what was going on (a very weird thing for my too easily distracted brain to do) and go to sleep. Slept until 6 am, too, which would be like sleeping 'til noon for most of you.

The floor wasn't thumping at 6. It will be when I get home, though.



Sigh.