tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-173752612024-03-12T19:08:17.373-07:00Infinitely Irrational<i>Having returned (fleetingly) to blogging, Sam retreats to his hidden lair to plot world domination</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-57490785061119872832011-09-24T12:50:00.000-07:002011-09-24T12:56:05.388-07:00I'm Sorry.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Being in first year at university, I am forced to be part of a class that teaches me how to write essays (something I already know how to do). Still, it does give me the opportunity to write about topics that interest me. Here's my most recent assignment:</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">It is an unfortunate truth that the tooth fairy does not exist. The idea of a creature that sneaks into our bedrooms while we sleep and leaves money in return for the pieces that fall out of our heads is admittedly appealing, but it is also so improbable that to believe it is laughable. Even if we were to limit the recipients of the tooth fairy’s generosity to those who lose their teeth in the nation of Canada, that would still leave approximately 2 789 920 children within the ages of 6 to 12 (the age group in which tooth loss is a normal occurrence). If we take into account the fact that each child loses 32 teeth within a 6 year period, we can determine that Canadians lose approximately 14 879 573 teeth each year, or 40 766 teeth a day. It is possible for children to lose multiple teeth in one day, or for multiple children to lose teeth in the same household, but the frequency with which this happens is not enough to decrease the number of households that the tooth fairy must visit by more than a couple hundred. Let us therefore accept that the tooth fairy must visit 40 566 Canadian households each night. If the average child gets 10 hours of sleep a day, and there is a 4.5 hour time difference between the East and West coast of Canada, this gives the tooth fairy 14.5 hours in which to work. The tooth fairy must therefore visit approximately 2798 households each hour. This would be difficult enough if they were side by side, but Canada has a surface area of 9 984 670 km², and Canadians have taken advantage of the opportunity this gives them to spread out. If the tooth fairy is lucky, a journey of about 10 000 km is in store each night. Unfortunately, no research has been done on fairies, so let us assume that their flying ability is similar to that of a common swallow. The airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow is about 38.6 km/h, so at maximum speed a fairy could only hope to complete 5.6% of the required journey <i>if it forgot to pick up the teeth and didn’t leave any money</i>. If the tooth fairy were kind enough to bring the money, it would have to start its journey carrying 285.4 kg of loonies, a feat impossible for any swallow. Alas, we must accept that as no creature is capable of simultaneously reaching the speeds required for the journey and carrying such a weight, the tooth fairy cannot be real.</span></span></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-30368356547138653982011-01-15T09:20:00.000-08:002011-01-15T09:39:23.163-08:00The Officially Licensed Maintenance Ninja Handbook<div>I have had the profound joy of working on the maintenance team at Circle Square Ranch (Severn Bridge) for the past two years. It was there that I became the Maintenance Ninja. In an effort to pass on the training and lore of the Maintenance Ninja to younger generations, I created The Officially Licensed Maintenance Ninja Utility Belt. The O.L.M.N.U.B. fell into the hands of Joshua M, a friend of mine. However, due to time constraints, I was unable to complete the handbook that was supposed to go with it.</div>The following is an excerpt from The Officially Licensed Maintenance Ninja Handbook.<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 16.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Congratulations!</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">You are either the recipient of the </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Officially Licensed Maintenance Ninja Utility Belt</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, or have won it in a </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">battle to the death</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. If the former, you must be a staff member at the Christian summer camp </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Circle Square Ranch (Severn Bridge)</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. You are, therefore, awesome (though if Josh W is reading this, that is no excuse for making up egotistical nicknames for yourself). If the latter, you have just killed a Circle Square staff member. Know that my vengeance will be </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">swift and terrible</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A Maintenance Ninja is one who can use everything around him to trick his enemies. He and </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">fast</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and he is </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">friendly</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to his environment. A Maintenance Ninja is </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">honest</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">good</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. His mind, body and spirit are one. He has </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">self-control</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. He has </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">discipline</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. He has an </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">awesome Utility Belt</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. A Maintenance Ninja loves nature because he is part of nature. A Maintenance Ninja never fights a battle if he cannot win.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The original ninjas, on the other hand, were </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">cold blooded killers</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> who had the unenviable job of trying to kill off military leaders and royalty without being </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">caught</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> or</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> executed</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Still, there is much that we can learn from the first ninjas.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The first man considered to be a ninja was </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Prince Yamato</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. He </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">dressed up as a</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> woman</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">killed</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> two men</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. While he may not have been wearing the black costume we now consider to be obligatory ninja garb, he did use everything around him to trick his enemies (and by everything around him, we mean </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">a dress</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">a large sword</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, and probably </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">a lot of makeup</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">).</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The classic ninja originated in the regions of Iga and Koga in Japan. The mercenaries in these regions were experts at infiltrating castles, using </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">stealth </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">and </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">deception</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Iga-Ueno, a city in the Iga region, now boasts a Ninja Museum, and holds a ninja parade every year. In the most recent parade, </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">nobody saw anything</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> until it was </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">too late</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Many legends have arisen about ninjas. The ability to </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">summon animals</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">shapeshift</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, or even </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">split into multiple bodies</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> are among their mythical talents. In fact, the reason most people think ninjas wore black is because early drawings depicted them in black to portray a sense of </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">invisibility</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. It has long been believed that ninjas themselves spread false rumours about magical abilities in order to scare their enemies. While this theory made sense, no one knew until recently that Ninjas planted the rumours by </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">flying through windows</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">planting the ideas in our minds while we slept</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ninjas usually wore civilian clothes, and could disguise themselves as priests, entertainers, fortune tellers, merchants, or komusō monks. The komusō monk was a very effective disguise, as the monks were well known for wearing “basket” hats that covered the whole head, though why no one would be suspicious of a man with a </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">basket on his head</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> is </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">beyond me</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></p></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Interesting Fact: </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Paranoid warlords often took precautions against assassination. Some built floors that were specially designed to make a loud noise when people stepped on them, others covered the ground with gravel. All of these countermeasures were unfortunately useless, because </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ninjas can fly.</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-38329871880215092462010-04-02T20:38:00.000-07:002010-04-02T20:53:51.225-07:00<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">I googled my name the other day. I came up with a brewery in Yorkshire and a tombstone. Creepy.</span></span><br /><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://thegazz.com/gblogs/beerstoyou/files/2009/04/ss-organic-fruit-beer.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 525px; height: 425px;" src="http://thegazz.com/gblogs/beerstoyou/files/2009/04/ss-organic-fruit-beer.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/%7Epahuntin/RIM00132.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 640px; height: 480px;" src="http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/%7Epahuntin/RIM00132.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">The tombstone got my birthday wrong.</span><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-90698328138674563722010-03-28T20:09:00.001-07:002010-03-29T19:40:13.866-07:00The film shall be called My Name is Joe, and I Am Canadian<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I have decided to make more of an effort at updating my blog regularly. Partly because the last post was a lot of fun to write, but mostly because a cute girl told me I should update my blog regularly. (Sarah, the word </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">cute </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">is used here in the best and most not-objectifying-your-body sense there is).</span></span><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">What follows is a piece I wrote for a writing contest. The contest, run by the CBC, called for a short advertisement, tweet, or movie plot-line to be sent in for judging. I wrote a movie plot-line. As it was the CBC that was doing the judging, I put in as much Canadian awesomeness as I could. So far as I know, it hasn't won yet. I still think it's awesome.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> Joseph</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> is a man seemingly incapable of holding down a job for longer than a month. As the Olympics in Vancouver wind down, Joseph has been preparing for his imminent dismissal from the store that hired him (temporarily) to sell Olympic mittens. This preparation involves a surprising job offer as the personal (temporary) assistant of Kiefer Sutherland, who is soon to play a role in an upcoming science fiction film. Unfortunately, due to Mr. Sutherland’s role as Jack Bauer in the popular television series </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">24</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> and a misconception about the difference between television and reality, the luckless actor is kidnapped by a group of high profile gamblers who want him to infiltrate the Olympic committee and sabotage the gold medal hockey game between Canada and the USA. With nothing but a cell phone and a box of mittens, Joseph must work with Mr. Sutherland to prevent the Canadian hockey team from being undermined and bring the criminals to justice.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I wrote this the day before the game itself, with no idea of who the winners would be. The fact that Canada won makes the idea even more epic. Obviously, the goals against the Canadian side were the result of a rigged puck. It's in the script. Cameos will include Bob and Doug McKenzie and Joe from the Molson commercial. Someone will ask Colin Mochrie if he was in Ghostbusters; no one will ask Dan Aykroyd if he was in Ghostbusters. Dawn Cherry will be in it, but we may have to digitally remove his fashion sense.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I'm trying to think of something witty to finish off with, but words fail me. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I'll be back.</span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-53341251281239307592010-03-27T19:10:00.000-07:002010-03-27T20:02:50.190-07:00It was better in my imagination<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>When I was six, or eight, or whatever age I happened to be when I went to the supermarket with my mother, I used to look with envy at the children whose parents were kind enough to buy them unhealthy food. How I longed for pudding, how I dreamt of orange pop, how I wished I could sink my teeth into any one of the candies being sold at the checkout. But one treat I desired more than any other.<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Every time I passed the drinks section of any supermarket, a particular fizzy beverage caught my eye. It came in plastic containers that were roughly half the height of any adequately sized pop bottle. Just imagine a pop bottle upon which a large weight had been placed. A grenade-sized pop bottle. A pop bottle that drank too much caffeine when it was a child. I'm sure if I had looked closer, I would have read the words <i>Serves 1 committed dieter or two hamsters.</i></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The marketing department of this particular drink had looked at the bottle and its potential customers (who, let's face it, weren't going to be dieters or hamsters), and named it <i>Chubby</i>. Its mascot was a fat little man in a yellow cap and red shirt. He had a particularly bulbous nose that I'm sure was supposed to be endearing. My eight-year-old self thought it was.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I don't know whether it was the child-sized bottle, or the bright colours, or the endearing nose that interested me. All I know was that my soul was drawn to the bottles of <i>Chubby</i>, and I never got one. I can't remember asking my mum to buy one for me, but I'm sure I did, and I'm sure she said no.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>It was not until this evening that I realized that, being a college student, I could finally buy a <i>Chubby</i> for myself. For many months I have been taking advantage of the fact that I can buy many of the things I desired more of when I was a child. I don't do this often, and I am always careful to eat healthy food too. I am also lucky that few of the things I desire, with the exception of <i>Chubby</i>, are particularly unhealthy. In any case, I hadn't even noticed the bottles of <i>Chubby </i>until tonight. I looked quickly at the price, and decided that it was worth 33 cents to fulfill a childhood dream. So I bought one.</div><div><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">I drank it on the way back home. It tasted like crap.</span></i></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-9367274926192209322009-06-20T15:34:00.000-07:002009-06-20T15:46:43.014-07:00Summertime!High school is over. Completely. I don't need to go back <span style="font-style: italic;">ever</span>. That's not to say I won't, but any visits to high school in future will be just that. Visits. Hooray!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Goals I Achieved in High School</span><br /><ul><li>Had films (which I created) shown in assembly</li><li>Won the Cosmo Music Award (Grade Twelve musical achievement award, basically)<br /></li><li>Got a role in several school shows, including the musical</li><li>Won more music awards, with at least an honourable mention each year<br /></li><li>Passed Grade Twelve French</li><li>Sang a solo in choir</li><li>Played at Talent Night</li><li>Played in an assembly<br /></li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">Goals I Didn't Achieve in High School<br /></span><ul><li>There's just one. You don't get to find out what it was.</li></ul>I am now done High School. I graduate this coming Thursday. Hooray!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-44295815085562803102009-02-22T11:39:00.000-08:002009-04-20T07:20:34.855-07:00Home Before Dark<style> <!-- @page { size: 21cm 29.7cm; margin: 2cm } P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } --> </style> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Once again, I have my life back. I don't particularly want it; I usually have nothing to do. But yes, it's true, the school musical is over and I now have no reason to stay at school till 10 o'clock every evening. I can return home before dark. For those of you who don't know, I've been playing Rapunzel's Prince in the musical Into the Woods for the past five months. It's been fun, it's been wonderful, but it's finally finished.<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Some statistics</span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> <span style="font-size:100%;">(to steal an idea from Darryl)</span><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Play:</b> Into the Woods<br /><b>Authors:</b> Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine<br /><b>Plot Summary:</b> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Into_the_Woods#Plot_summary">Click Here</a><br /><b>Producer: </b>Phil Vriend<br /><b>Director:</b> Richard Peters<br /><b>Stage Manager:</b> Rachelle Veldkamp<br /><b>Roles:</b> 23</span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><b>Number of Actors Involved:</b> 29<br /></span><b>Death Toll:</b></span> <span style="font-size:100%;">18*<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><b>Time Spent Preparing:</b> 5 months</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><b>Performances:</b> 8</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><b>Average Length:</b> 2.5 hours, including a 15 minute intermission<br /><b>Scenes Cut:</b> 2 (<i>Our Little World</i> and <i>Moments in the Woods</i>)<br /></span><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ7-C5rcPUg2fYzqIk7D6dX3_B7t0H26KaaQm4T55heGK-HFRPElN4VX2Y-byb8YiHbx1efQ73FZWaw1f1aApbpIEe9JqP9g5vqxKcouEsSsX5df9jw-21PFsqE2eq5vkNvZ1M/s320/prince.jpg" name="graphics1" vspace="5" width="214" align="left" border="0" height="320" hspace="5" /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><b>Role:</b> Rapunzel's Prince<br /><b>Inspiration for How to Play Rapunzel's Prince:</b> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h3jEdW1zYDU">Click Here</a><br /><b>Songs:</b> First Midnight, Agony, Second Midnight, Act I Finale, Agony (Reprise), Act II Finale<br /><b>Minor Injuries Sustained as a Result of Playing Rapunzel's Prince:</b> 8<br /><b>Mustache:</b> Yes<br /><b>Burns on Upper Lip Caused by Allergic Reaction to Mustache Adhesive:</b> Yes<br /><b>Number of Times My Lapel Mic Fell Off of Its Clip During a Performance:</b> 5<br /><b>Cupcakes:</b> Yes<br /><br /></span>*<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Death Toll refers to characters in the play, not the actors playing them</span></span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-65134452046962488582009-02-16T05:39:00.000-08:002009-02-16T05:42:22.906-08:00Some ChangesI just changed the title, as I don't wish for people to think I want revenge. I'm a pretty chilled out guy. I don't need revenge.<br />Also, while changing the title, I noticed that my birthday was set at November 21, 1756. Oops...<br />I'll write a new blog about the school play next week. Just thought I'd mention it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-38160965788346471752009-01-02T07:15:00.000-08:002009-01-02T07:31:19.569-08:002009Yesterday I jumped into Lake Ontario. I would like to think it was to save someone's life, but it was mostly because Maddy and Denise were doing it, so I felt I had to do it too. No-one was drowning, anyway.<br />It's fairly likely that anyone reading this has no idea what I'm talking about.<br />You can check this website out --> http://www.polarbeardip.ca/<br /><br />Well, it's now 2009, so that gives us three years and about 355 days (give or take) left to live, according to the Mayans. For those of you who haven't heard, the Mayans predicted that the world would end on December 21, 2012. I'm not too nervous, myself. A lot of people predicted that the world would end in the year 2000, and nothing happened. We didn't even get the Y2K virus, whatever that was supposed to be.<br /><br />New Year's Resolutions:<br />To be the guy who narrates audio books.<br />To win some kind of award.<br />To work in an ice cream parlor.<br />To travel to a country that nobody knows about.<br /><br />Not all of my resolutions have to be accomplished by the end of the year. I think they're more like life goals.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-15667628173798387952008-06-03T18:15:00.000-07:002008-06-03T18:43:21.461-07:00You Can't See MeI've been feeling invisible today. I don't know why, or even what I mean by "feeling invisible". Ah well, such is life. I expect it's just a strange phase of some sort.<br /><br />I also spent some time trying to remember the last time I did something mind-blowingly creative. I can't say it's easy. I haven't done anything interesting or creative for a while. I should really snap myself out of this uncreative boring streak, it doesn't make life very interesting. But what can I do? <br />[ponders]<br />Stay tuned...<br /><br />Since the last time I blogged...<br />I was in a play. That was fun.<br />I won a choir award and sang a short solo in the Spring Concert.<br />I... haven't done very much, really. Um... I can't really think of anything. Again, I have to snap myself out of this uncreative streak.<br /><br />Since I have nothing else going on, I can talk about the play.<br />It was fun. I got a lead role, which was stressful. I survived though. And I got to yell louder than I have before in my life and fire one of those guns they fire to start races, which is like the real thing but without the risk of blowing someone's head off by accident. Oh, and I had a 'fro that made my head look like broccoli.<br /><br />On Sunday I had a bit of a revelation. Is revelation the right word? Probably not. But I realized something.<br />God loves me.<br />Cool, eh? I mean, someone who's perfect, loving me. The creator of the universe, too! God invented gravity, and physics, and life, and light—not just seeing a stray ion and thinking "Hm, that would look good over there, and maybe if I added some more of them..." or it being twilight and thinking "Let's make it a bit brighter..." but actually inventing light—all that, and He loves me. How freaking awesome is that?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-37054597827949114932008-03-16T16:08:00.000-07:002008-03-16T16:17:27.490-07:00A Creative Title for Once<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Yay</span>, it's a title that makes sense! I've no idea why I never thought to try that before. Now...<br />Nothing is up, same as usual. I don't know why you read this. Certainly not to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pursue</span> literary... thingy... or keep up with my [insert sarcasm here] exciting life.<br />Apart from the nothing that is happening, my snowman has melted. I shall mourn his loss, and then pick up the carrot. Why do snowmen melt so quickly? I think I'll cryogenically freeze the next one I make.<br />So anyway, I'll be off again.<br /><br />Bye.<br /><br /><br />[<em>twiddles thumbs</em>]Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-9474923753367078242008-03-10T13:19:00.000-07:002008-03-10T13:29:33.997-07:00Blog the Fourty-ThirdThat's right! We're going back in time now! Yay!<br />OK, no we're not. But I've decided to completely ignore how many blogs I've done, and I'll just number them randomly. Which reminds me, I should try to give up the word <em>random</em> again. I definitely overuse it. Even misuse it, sometimes. So I know I'm going to regret this, but if anyone hears me say the word <em>random</em> at any time, smack me (lightly) upside the head, please. Thank you.<br /><br />Now another problem... How do I get into this TDCH blogger group?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-49770683556873710632008-03-09T11:11:00.000-07:002008-03-09T11:25:03.744-07:00Blog the Eighty-ThirdHello? Anyone there?<br />[<span style="font-style: italic;">Looks around at empty wasteland</span>]<br />Ah well. Another blog, just for the heck of it.<br />Nothing much is happening. March break is like that. I'm bored. I'll be memorizing my lines for the next school play (Anton Chekhov's <span style="font-style: italic;">The Seagull</span>), but I can't find a highlighter, which is annoying me...<br />And apart from that... Nothing is happening...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Nothing...<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Nothing...<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Nothing...<span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br />OK, I'm bored. Anyone reading this?<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Anyone?</span><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-59357578933855046552008-03-05T10:19:00.000-08:002008-03-05T10:26:12.201-08:00Blog the Eighty-SecondWhat, didn't you read the other ones? See what you miss when you don't read my blog for several months.<br />Alright, I'm sorry, I haven't updated my blog for ages. My bad. I've had a lot on my hands recently. I was in the school play (it's over. I can't face it. I... [<span style="font-style: italic;">weeps openly and rends garment</span>]), I did some other awesome stuff (alright, I lied. When you're in drama, you have no life. So no time for other awesome stuff), and... that's about it.<br />So anyway... Back to blogging...<br />[<span style="font-style: italic;">looks around</span>]<br />Well, nothing seems to have changed...<br />I'll write another blog soon. I promise.<br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">he's lying...</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-31617405540243297972007-05-11T16:52:00.000-07:002007-05-13T06:16:05.293-07:00Blog, at last, the FourthOK, when I started this blog, I was planning on being witty, intelligent, and writing an entry every three days or so. Well, I've pretty much failed at that. I haven't written anything for... three or four weeks, now, although it would help if I remembered what the date was today. I haven't written anything particularly intelligent, only bragging about having subliminally ruined a music video (I'm still proud of that. Watch the ratings of Star Trek re-runs suddenly rocket upwards...) and illegally downloading the soundtrack to a series of advertisements that are each thirty seconds long. So, now I try again...<br /> While I try to think of something witty and intelligent, I'll tell you about what's happened in my incredible and exciting life of late.<br />...Basically nothing, until about Tuesday. So let's go into diary mode.<br /><br />Tuesday<br />Starts off badly, I wake up early for band, then fall asleep again. When I wake up again, I have fifteen minutes to have a shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, brush my teeth, etc. As it happens, I have to skip breakfast. When I get to school, everything is the same as it usually is. I have to perform a skit during first period, take notes during second, another skit in third, and discuss something or other about Canadian politics in fourth. Then I get my course selection sheet for next year back. Somehow, I manage to get all of my top choices. There's video block, chemistry, drama, world religions, and french (so my parents aren't disappointed). Not only that, but several of my friends are also in video block, and they happen to be good actors (aka drama nerds). I get the feeling we'll be able to produce some pretty fantastic stuff next year...<br />When I get home, I get a phone call telling me I have a job for the summer at Manitoba Pioneer Camp.<br /><br />Wednesday:<br />Dramafest. Myself and about twenty other people go to Redeemer University to take part in the drama festival that happens every year. I am somewhat out of place in this group, but I am beyond caring. In the morning I learn the basics of stage combat, and get to wield a sword. How awesome is that?<br />Lunch is a barbecue. With their great culinary skills, the cooking staff manage to make lemonade that is warmer than the hamburgers. The number of hamburgers left over is probably equivalent to about half a cow.<br />After lunch we see a production of The Full Works of Shakespeare (Abridged). It is very well done, and very funny. There's a bit of implied dirtiness (very implied)...<br />We then go on to our second workshop, which for me is a workshop on staging comedy. I learn... one thing. Give or take.<br />At the end of the day, two of the other schools perform segments from their school plays. Our school is so much better...<br />Peters (our drama teacher. To be perfectly frank, I don't know how many people are reading this blog, if any, so I don't know whether to assume that you know everyone at my school) leads a few improv games. I take part in several of them, and make some very very bad mistakes during Questions (blocking, blocking, more blocking, and then I can't think of anything to say), but luckily the other person makes a bigger mistake (statement), and so I don't lose.<br />Then we go home.<br /><br />Thursday:<br />Band trip. We load the buses, blah blah blah. Lot's of band stuff happens. We have a talent night, in which we hear "You're Beautiful" in British accents, watch a skit about the three Bandketeers, and lots of other random stuff. My friends and I spend the remainder of the evening going completely and utterly insane. Insanity is fun, but I wouldn't want to live there...<br /><br />Friday:<br />I eat a large breakfast, then another large breakfast. More band stuff, and then we pack up and leave. We get back to school finally, and I have a chance to talk to my friends quickly before leaving for home. When I get home, I fall asleep...<br /><br /> Anyway, there you have it. I got three days off of school, and I get another two off of school next week (this time for festival choir and dinner & a show). I expect I'll have lots to say about both these things, so check up in about a week. And I'll try to be even more witty and intelligent.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-1176315403083638722007-04-11T11:01:00.000-07:002007-04-11T11:18:07.283-07:00Blog the ThirdTo explain: Last August, my mum got an email from one of the teachers she works with telling her that an old student from her school had become a famous singer, and was filming a music video at the school (South Fletcher's Secondary School). The email also said that this former student wanted students of the school to be extras in the music video. Though I was not a student, I still got to go. Anyway, I only got to be in one scene, and I was in a crowd, so I wanted to do something that I could look at later and tell people "That's me. Definitely. No doubt about it". I came up with and idea...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5237/1673/1600/411275/been%20gone%201%20copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5237/1673/400/506696/been%20gone%201%20copy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />This is a frame from Keisha Chante's music video "Been Gone". Click on the picture to see a larger version of it.<br />You can see my hand near the centre. In order to make it easier to see, I have made an image beside it that I've tweaked a bit to show exactly what gesture I am making. No, I'm not that bad. Keep reading.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5237/1673/1600/709312/been%20gone%202%20copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5237/1673/400/152883/been%20gone%202%20copy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This one is slightly easier to see. My hand is on the left side, and once again you can see me doing the Vulcan salute from star trek.<br /><br />Now, you might think I'm a bit of a nerd to ruin a music video in such a way, but I definitely had a reason for revenge. I waited six hours in a crowded room to do this, and I didn't even get paid.<br />Actually, the contract said I would get two dollars. Maybe I can sue...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-1176310002592612952007-04-11T09:15:00.000-07:002007-04-14T16:48:21.713-07:00Blog the Second<a href="http://www.gscottolson.com/weblog/wp-content/uploads/2007/02/getamac.mp3">Sound familiar?</a> That's because it's from everyones favourite commercials about personified computers. Yes, it's the Mac vs PC tune. I was searching around the 'net for this for ages, and now I finally have it, I am planning to do a couple of spoofs on the advertisements.<br /> I have to admit, it would probably have saved me about two months worth of time if I'd thought to ask someone about it, but the thought did eventually occur to me, and I was told that the tune is in fact called "Having Trouble Sneezing", by Mark Mothersbaugh. Once I had recovered from the weirdness of the title, I moved on and started making plans. You have been warned...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17375261.post-1176084044104562852007-04-08T19:00:00.000-07:002007-04-09T05:14:14.993-07:00Blog the First<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5237/1673/1600/153589/n1660080153_31878_8945.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5237/1673/320/736174/n1660080153_31878_8945.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Hey. This is me. That's right, the one planning the demise of the photographer. You'll also notice I'm the one who's in focus.<br /> Anyway, that's not important. I'm only uploading this because there's some strange thing with the profile picture here that doesn't allow me to upload it directly. ...Which leads me to this blog.<br />Hello. I am Sam. Any cracks about green eggs or ham and there is a distinct possibility that you won't enjoy yourself. If you don't think I'm capable of revenge, just look at the picture. See? I'm evil. Get used to it. And I <span style="font-style: italic;">don't </span>want green eggs and ham.<br /><br />Anyway, I might as well write something worthwhile, so I'll just remind anyone who's reading this that I'm only here because I made a bet with a friend that I could give up Facebook. She thinks I can't. Five bucks says I can.<br /><br />Now... Enjoy...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1