Na na na na na na na na CATscan!!

See what I did there? What with the Batman thingy in the title?... ah, forget it.

Anyhow, it's that time again when I have a bizarre medical scare. If it ain't throwing up and heaving, it's falling down and seizing for me.

Well, not a seizure necessarily, but something of that nature. To make a long story short, my buddy watched me pitch myself to the floor and twitch around for a while, so I went to the doctor and the doctor said,

"NO MORE MONKEYS JUMPING ON THE BED!"

Uh, I mean, he referred me to the University Hospital for a CT scan, or CAT scan, or whatever you medical-types think it's real name is. Eggheads.

So I go to the hospital, and here's a little hint I want to pass along to the genius who put up the signs: If the area is called "Radiology", then put up a sign that says "Radiology", not whatever the hell the sign said. Something like "Pictured Result Scanning and Related Fields" doesn't really help Joe Lunchbox here.

I must say, I actually enjoyed the ride on the ol' CT Machine: First, they make you lay perfectly still for roughly 2 minutes, to build anticipation... I guess. Then, the table starts to move up and down, back and forth, and a big mama cylinder with lights reminiscent of "Batteries Not Included" (you know, the little UFO-like Aliens that help old people movie) spin around your head, taking pictures of your thinker...

If I don't hear back from the Doc, that's good. But I'm not too worried.

If you haven't seen "Batteries Not Included", you really should. I find movies that were made like this one before CGI was considered good enough make for a much more enjoyable viewing experience. Because you're like, whoa, that was done nicely, instead of whoa, that was good CGI.

It took us 2 years to animate the fur so it looked natural... Well, maybe you should have used puppets then... or humans in mascot-like uniforms. Because you're never getting those two years of your life back.

Truckload of Kryptonite

There comes a time in every superhero's life where their powers fade. Either that, or there is something causing it to slip, either a physical, real thing, or something more psychological.

Lately, I feel a little like the Lady Lovin' Lynx has lost his Soul Finger.

But it's cool, I'm sure it's totally in my head... Or... OR!!!... I bet there is some supervillian out there, maybe his name is Erik Von ElevatorMusik, and he's playing a particularily crappy cover of "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang, maybe some sort of Casiotone version with the damn thing set to mandolin, like some sort of freaky, alien jackhammer pounding out the feel-not-so-good melody.

Celeleleleleleabratatatatate ggggoooododod timimes cccc'comomomon!

And if I can muster up some power, maybe I can get him to stop... I just need to remember that I'm still funktastic...

And thus, Triple L will rise again.

It's a Mad World

Some people give me a rough time about my Tears for Fears album.

They're like, "Dude, why would you have something so hopelessy 80's and cheesy in your otherwise acceptable music collection? Why deviate from the path of awesomeness?"

I object. That album is awesome.

And I'm glad that the glowing miracle that is television is proving my point yet again...

There's that commercial (for a video game, "Gears of War"), you know the one. A dude looking like a GI Joe on steriods is running through barren, war-torn streets. He's passing bodies, debris, and the obligatory children's toy...

GI Juice-monkey enters an abandoned, shattered building. Hiding in the dark: A gigantic, robotic spider. Our hapless soldier spews machine gun bullets from his phallus, only to be (possibly) dramatically defeated by four sharp mechanical legs...

Now, the score to this commercial should be obvious. It should be "Random Metal" by "Studio Musicians pretending to be a Band". Or perhaps it would be "Dramatic Cheaply-Purchased Rights to Orchestra kind-of sounding like John Williams"... But nay. It is a haunting rendition of Roland Orzabal's classic Tears for Fears song "Mad World" as interpreted by Michael Andrews and Gary Jules, also heard in "Donnie Darko" and at the top of the UK charts in 2003.

Everybody wants to rule the world, and Tears for Fears, you once did. And you still rule a portion of my heart.

Skeletons in the Pencil Cup

It's funny when a holiday passes, and we are left with it's remnants.

A lot of the pencils here have skeletons on them, and the skeletons are frantically waving bats away from their faces. And a geeky ghost is flying around with the bats, seemingly oblivous. Or the skeletons are dancing, and the bats are swarming in to watch their mad skills. And the aforementioned ghost is still without a care. He is smiling.

How do you really know how a skeleton is feeling? They all seem to have the same expression on their faces. Unless they are the types you hang up in an elementary school. Those kinds are smiling, and they usually have eyeballs.

But alas, a true skeleton cannot smile. It can simply stay motionless, or bleach if exposed to sunlight. Or if it is hooked up to a sort-of animatronics device, it can squeal and spew delicious puns.

Anyway, what was I getting at?

Oh yeah, Halloween is over, man... Like, over a week ago. Time to throw those pencils into the fire, or donate them to a Poor Goth Charity.

I'm sure they could always use more pencils.

And Now, a Dialogue from Blackbyrd Myoozik

David: I want to get something something in your cabinet.

Clerk: What do you want?

David: Oh, just something in that cabinet in that corner...

Clerk: Yeah. But WHAT?

David: (surprised) Uh... The Killers Box Set...

Clerk: Okay then.

Mr. Clerk, you proved to myself and my friend that you are definitely jaded and cool. Good on ya. That's the spirit. I love your record boutique. Keep on making people feel like pieces of rotting vegetables in a downtown dumpster, that's the way to success.

But I guess I keep coming back. And you probably made fun of my friend for his $50 purchase... I mean come on, the Killers? They are so totally not Indie...

But from the interviews I've read, they are complete assholes, so you might have something in common with them!

Burn.

When I Was Your Age

I can't believe that there is a 45 minute wait at a chain restaurant.

I mean sure, it's good food, the chefs are trained in Italy, and I like Moretti Beer (very mild, yet refreshing), but 45 minutes? I shoulda gone to some local eatery, or, uh, got some Bertoli...

Anywhoo, that's not really my point. My real point is this: If your child is over 4'11" tall, they are NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE ANYTHING RESEMBLING A SIPPY CUP in a restaurant!!

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say. What if she's one of those allergy/bubble kids who needs this sippycupesque liquid to stay alive? What if she's just getting over her parents divorce and needs this cup as a security blanket? What if somebody died in her life and this is the cup they treasured, or the cup was the last gift to her?

Meh.

It still looked dumb.

Time to Play The Game

Okay brothers and sisters.

It's high time that I started bringing my "A" Game to the show again. For the last few months (really, since the beginning of the season), I feel like I've been performing at a solid "C" level.

I know that's not good enough.

But it's tough... It doesn't seem to matter how many years I do improv (14, for those who haven't see my bio), I always hit a spell where I'm not really clicking like I should, and I feel like appologizing to the audience for that.

Unfortunately, I usually am. You can tell in my body language and facial expressions that I'm improvising as well as being "sorry for being shitty", which doesn't help the audience, the cast members, the higher-ups, or me.

So it doesn't matter if I perform or not tonight, I just want you (my 4 readers, that is) to know that from this day forward, I'll envision myself as an unforgiving SUPASTAR... Understanding all the time that being modest whilst projecting that is a delicate balance.

And at the same time as being more confident, I'll be more relaxed. I'll do the warm-ups that I know will get me out of my head, and stop questioning or even subtly mocking my artform.

Kind of a strange read today, I know, but I have to get that off my chest.

Uh... yeah, nothing really funny or insightful in all that... so... uh... CRAYZEE MONKEYS!!! WHEEE!!!

Crazy monkeys can be funny.... Now, for something insightful... Uh... If god created the world, who created god???.... TRIIIIPY... WHOA!!!

Shawn out.

And Now, A Letter.

Dear Sloan,

(Boys, your concert reminded me of a challenging date with an intelligent and beautiful girl. So, I will write this letter as if you were one.)

I must say, you were radiant the other night. You were charming, smooth, and your charisma filled the room. I felt like I was at home with you, and you really swept me off my feet. However, I was left wondering if the earlier part of the evening was intentional or just some excruciating mistake that you wished never happened.

I arrived at our meeting place a little early, and I know, that's a little desparate for a second date. I'm sorry, I just can't help myself. You told me to be there by 8:00, so I was there by 7:30, and I knew you wouldn't be there until at least 9:30 or 10:00.

Boy, was I wrong.

It's cool to be fashionably late, but I was really worried about you. 9:30 came, but it wasn't you. You told me you'd have a friend come along, so I wasn't upset... But I thought your friend would be there earlier, and then it would leave more time for the two of us. Yoko Casiono is lovely, but I just wanted to see you sooner.

So myself and Yoko were hanging out for a while, but I really started to get worried when she left and you still weren't there. I mean, sure, it's okay, but it was already 10:45 by then.

I started drinking. It's not your fault, I just got bored. I wanted to stay on par with you, and I didn't want to get up to relieve myself in the middle of our date... It was a terribly, awfully long line that I waited in to get my drink, and many people were getting upset.

Next time, let's meet somewhere else.

So 11:30 came and we finally connected. Wow. I really enjoyed myself, but for the last 30 minutes of our date, I really had to pee. Sorry for running off on you like that, but I had to go something fierce. I had to settle for looking at you from across the room for the last few minutes of our date, because I could not get back in the lounge, but I did wave goodbye. Because our date ran so late (it was after 1 am) there were no buses running and no cabs to be found.

I walked almost all the way home that night, Sloan. And it was cold. You should have offered me a ride or a parka... Or maybe you should have come to our date a little earlier.

But I can't stay mad at you, Sloan. I just can't. I spent more money on you that day, and I even spent more today.

Let's make our third date a little more magical... I await your return.

With Love,

Shawn Pallier
Edmonton, AB

Deceprachaun?

Okay, so I had this great idea for a halloween costume.

I was going to be an unknown Decepticon (none of these well known characters to the left here) known as "DECEPRACHAUN!!"

The basic idea is he would be an Irish-labour built transformer, and he would be part Leprechaun, part decepticon.

But you probably guessed that already.

Fortunately, many Leprechaun costume pieces were available to me. Unfortunately, no Transformer stuff was to be found.

And thus, a mere Leprechaun I will be, but a bonny one indeed!

Confounding Confusing Conservatives

Yo, check this out.

I get a memo in the mail saying that the Conservatives want to increase funding by $50 million to the arts, and that the NDP and Liberals voted against it.

Huh?

I can only imagine the real conversation went something like this:

"Alright, pitiful house!! This is HAR-POR, Your almighty leader. I would like to pass a bill that will make KICKING PUPPIES MANDATORY. Bwahhh-hahaha!!! And I want to tag on a $50 million dollar increase to the Canada Council for the Arts to give you Liberals a major headache as to whether this bill should be passed or not! Eahahahaaa!!!"

So naturally, the so-called Left would have to vote against it. I mean, kicking puppies? But the Conservatives got it passed somehow, and they only told us about the Art thing and not the abusing baby animals thing.

And that's how I see it.

An Important Message About Diet Soda

And the important message is this:

Don't try to get that cool geyser of aspartamey goodness with a Mentos that has a coated shell.

According to the boys at Mythbusters, only the original, non-coated Mentos work for the awesomeness that is a "diet pop cascade".

True, this may be old news for most of us, but I just want to make sure everyone out there knows that it only takes a minute to go down to your local corner store, buy a pack of Mentos and a two-litre of pop to impress your friends, relatives, and strangers... but I don't want anyone to make the mistake of buying anything but the white mints.

Green? No Go.

White? Big Show.

Got it? Good.

Thanks once again, Mythbusters, for bringing us the news that our moms would certainly believe would take our eyes out.

Hey, I wonder what would happen if I put a penny in there...

Check out some music:

Artist of the Day (in the blog section)

You Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'?

Got to be startin' somethin.

So I've decided that I'm going to use my "myspace" page for a training ground in music journalism.

The idea is, I will start with my ol' friend Robby Suter (lead guitar and vocals for Motive Unknown). I'll click on his profile, and pick a band to summarize from his list. I'd profile him, but his band isn't quite ready to go yet. It's still in the recruitment phase.

Then, I'll click on a band from the list of the band I profiled first. It'll be a little journey down the path of music using Myspace.

Should be fun. Yay. However, that means the whole "song of the day" thing that I do will be moved to the blog section of:

http://www.myspace.com/ladylovinlynx

Okay then. Peach. I mean, Peace.

PS- I am well aware of the irony that I just said in my last post that I wanted to be an actor, yet now I'm talking about music journalism... A man can be both, can't he?

Dream On

My dream? To be a professional actor.

Now, it's my literal dreams.

I don't dream a heck of a lot about performing. I don't really dream about acting often enough to give it much thought. But lately, the last few nights, acting has been flooding my head.

I had a dream several nights ago that everyone had gone to an opening night party for one of my co-actor's shows. It was also the opening night of a play I had written and directed, and for some reason, my show and his party were in the same building. Everyone was cool about it and wanted to come see my show...

A couple of nights later, I was a voice talent for a cartoon. I was in a studio, and the work was long, but satisfying...

Then, just last night, I had a dream I was at a debut screening of a Hollywood-budget RFT movie, starring everyone including myself. I had a small role, but it was a role with lines, which was awesome...

It's funny that I dream within reason like that. I mean, I know it's a long shot that I'll write and direct my own show soon, or that RFT would get a Hollywood budget to produce a film, but I still feel that these "dreams" are within reach. Possible.

I think that's cool. Sometimes, it's easy to forget just how lucky we are in Edmonton to be absolutely flooded with talent that has the potential to do some huge things. It's just the motivation hurdle that most of us have to jump.

Now, who wants to help me make a HOLLYWOOD BUDGET MOVIE STARRING, WRITTEN, AND DIRECTED BY MEEEE!!! WHOOO!!!

I like to dream big, too.

Song of the Day: "Flying High Again" by Sloan. Only 1 1/2 minutes long, still cool.

A Duck-Dodgy Subject

If there is one thing the internet has taught me and beat into my head, it is this:

People are freaky, yo.

I have the bonus feature of knowing how people got to "The Generalizer". I know just what keywords they typed in. For Example:

"Shawn Pallier"
"Thegeneralizer"
"Shawn Pallier is hot"
"Nude Shawn Pallier"
"Dancing Shawn Pallier"
"I Hate that 'tard Shawn Pallier"

etc.

However, quite often, people stumble across the Generalizer looking for entirely different subjects than my musings. I definitely will not share them all here, but I just have to share the most recent one. It came from Sweden... Linkoping, to be exact.

"Sexy Marvin the Martian and Duck Dodgers".

Now, searching for "Marvin the Martian and Duck Dodgers"?. Fine. I did once write about them. However, it wasn't a very sexy article... And hey, I shouldn't judge folks. If a picture of Marvin the Martian with lipstick and fishnet stockings is what does it for you, then I salute your uniqueness.

Swedes. Gotta love 'em.

Song of the Day: "Waiting for Slow Songs" by Sloan. All this loving of Sloan songs has reminded me that I haven't received my tickets in the mail yet...

You Look Down, Care for a Sausage?

A quote:

"Nobody cares more about commercials than the Palliers."
A. Lupul, 2006

Quite true. There's just something about advertising on radio and television that captivates me. I remember a lot about the paid plugs I see, and I never forget certain moments. Unfortunately, it's usually the shitty stuff that sticks in my brain like a tumor.

Here are the top three moments from recent commercial history (according to me):

1. "Jim Sokolove". I can barely hold it together when this guy comes on the boob tube. First off dude, your name sounds like "Sock o' love", which brings up all sorts of visuals, from bad porno to bad teenage habits... Second, you get some of the most asinine comments from unbelievably stereotyped actors pretending to be "winners" in your court cases- Exhibit A: The guy with the Buckwheatesque hair that says he "got the money Mama deserved". Holy shit, dude. Capital R racist.

2. "Carl's Jr.". In this parody of an anti-smoking commercial, a guy makes it sound like he's in trouble for all the meat-smoking that he's been doing. So he's quit. He proudly states he'll now let "Carl's Jr. smoke his sausage".

I'm sorry. I'm a very immature man. So that makes me pee myself with laughter.

3. "Public Service Announcement, School Funding". A guy approches a young lady, she cheerfully greets him. He says to her "you seem down". She says she totally feels down about not having enough books for her classroom, and that kids in other schools have to sit on the floor... Um, bummer... But the part that sticks out the most is that this 18 year old girl is supposed to be a school teacher, the 20 year old guy is supposed to be her colleague, and the script SPECIFICALLY STATES THAT SHE "LOOKS DOWN"!" So why, oh why can we not do a second take where she is a little on the glum side instead of cheery? Bah. ACT HARDER!

And this concludes my recent feelings on, uh, liminal messages. Yes, liminal.

Song of the Day: "Last Time in Love" by Sloan. I'm sure some of you have figured out the reason why I choose a Sloan song every day is because I'm going to the concert on October 28. I'm happy. And "Last Time in Love" has a classic Pop song appeal that shows the true genius that Sloan collectively is.

Radio With Comic Timing

So I'm listening to the news on the radio a couple of days ago. They mention a story about a boy and sports.

You see, the boy in the story is autistic. He plays on a baseball team. His coach isn't terribly fond of the way he plays baseball. The coach is a pussy, so instead of teaching the boy some better fundamentals, he gets a different boy on his team to throw a baseball at the autistic boy's head to hopefully injure him so that he can't play baseball any more... Or at least so he won't play that day.

Immediately following that news story, a commercial.

It was a little boy's voice, talking about how much he liked sports, and how (inexplicably) McDonald's has something to do with that. And the kicker: A sports-style organ solo playing the "ba-ba-ba-ba-ba... I'm lovin' it" music.

Do-do-do-doot-da-do! Charge(s laid)!!

Song of the Day: "People of the Sky" by Sloan. Ba-ba-bada-baaa!

Sam I Ain't.

I noticed Sonic 102.9, Edmonton's modern rock station (for you out-of-towners who might not know about it) is running a contest in which listeners must name famous people who have the first name "Sam" based on a series of clues.

Only one problem: The last character they were looking for wasn't named Sam.

The clues were this: Funny laugh, chases a "wascaly wabbit", and is from California. So my guess is Elmer Fudd, except for that baffling California part...

However, the answer was Yosemite Sam. Oh, I get it. He's from Yosemite.

Great Horny Toads.

I know, we who listen to the station are supposed to be too cool to know the difference. We're supposed to be so busy primping our shaggy coifs and buying vinyl from Blackbyrd to care about the subtle nuances of Looney Toons. But hey, I care about both... Not that I have much to coif or money to spend at a place where the employees won't acknowledge you if you were Lou frickin' Reed. Sorry Blackbyrd. I'm mad at Sonic, not you.

Well, not mad at Sonic. That's going too far. I just want to chase them with two cartoonishly large guns and shoot at their feet.

Dance.

Song of the Day: "I Am The Cancer" by Sloan. Now that's some fuzzy guitars boys.

It's that time Again When the Trees Imitate My Head

Yes, I noticed all the leaves are off the trees surrounding my yard... And that mine are the only trees with no leaves. All my neighbour's trees? They have the mystical colours of autumn still hanging from their boughs.

My trees? They look like a moody set from a Vincent Price movie.

I think I was never meant to be a good yard-keeper. I've got somebody's Tim Horton's garbage on there from last winter... I just keep running it over with the lawnmower... WHOO!! Look at that paper fly!!!

I've got the previous residents' garbage under the steps. I could probably get it out of there, but I'm a little afraid it's a human head, or a head of lettuce. Either way, ew.

I've got the dandiest collection of weeds, and the way I keep my coniferous trees pruned? I run over the long ends with (yep, you guessed it) the lawnmower... YeeHAW!! Look at those pine needles fly!!!

Oh trees, I'm sorry for making you prematurely bald. At least I'm no longer alone.

Song of the Day: "Suppose They Close The Door" by Sloan. They took two songs and spliced them together for this. Unless you have the live version. Then they didn't.

Acting? Brilliant?

The time has come.

I've been putting off trying to do some theatre outside of theatresports for close to 3 years now. It's just too easy to not put in the work and find other things to do.

Like drinking, for one. Or taking up time-consuming hobbies...

But I found myself reading a copy of "Angels in America" today, and desire welled up inside me like some sort of Japanese Movie Monster from the pavement of Tokyo.

It feels like cheating, reading words on a page and saying them back the same way they appear. But then I remembered that it really has nothing to do with the what the words say, it's how the words are delivered.

And remembering all that makes me come alive. I'm going to be doing a little acting workshop, and I think I'll use a scene from "Angels in America". I want to see how we can handle this material, what with our comic leanings.

Let's do this thing.

Song of the Day: "I'm Not Through With You Yet" by Sloan. Leave it up to the boys to finish their album Navy Blue with a song that not only implied many years remained in them, but actually felt like that in the music too... Geah, I'm gettting too flowery today with this entry. Here, let's lighten the poetics for a moment...

Monkey!!! Knife!!! Fight!!!

Y Kant I Listen to Tori? Or Kan I?

By the way, the opening title is an ubergeek reference to Tori Amos' original album, Y Kant Tori Read. Oh yeah, I'm a know-it-all like that.

I wonder if womyn such as Tori Amos and Ani DiFranco would be okay with the fact that I have some of their music. I don't have a full Ani DiFranco album, but I do have a full Tori one, and I hope that they want men to listen to their music.

Sometimes, I feel like it sure the hell wasn't written for my ears... But it's neat stuff. I mean, who else would cover Eminem like Tori does? WhEEEeeeee.... look at mama...

Evil shit, man. Chilling, sweet.

I'm sure neither of them like to be referred to as "feminists". I think the term is considered to be very yesterday. Like, totally 1998. Yep.

What I'm saying in an extreme round-about way is this: I like their shit. It's good.

That's okay with them, right?

Song of the Day: "Bells On" by Sloan. "If you had a funeral, I'd be there with bells on". Heheh. Now that's what I call lyrics.

Link of the Day: http://www.last.fm According to this site, Tori Amos and Ani DiFranco did a duet. A re-recorded version of perhaps Tori's most famous work, "Silent All These Years". Is that true?