This morning I found my coffee trove empty, so I bustled about and made tea instead. A cult I was once in commanded that tea is only to be drunk in the afternoons or evenings (although tea drinkers can be drunk whenever they wish). Fortunately, I am not longer in that tea cult. They made a switch to Kool-Aid, with unfortunate results. The point of all this pointlessness is non-existent. The tea, however, did provide me with a fairly more fair than average amount of energy, which surprised me and compelled me to write and think happily inconsecutive thoughts.

I try not be a link-linky-link-all-time-blog (which is maybe why I never have any posts), but here is an interesting article I read (eye red) this morning, and below is another one. This first one is about Edmonton's English-Mandarin Bilingual public education system, which has about 1,700 kids in it, if memory serves (Serve me memory! You foolish slave of the brain!). Sorry for that outburst, it's just that abstract concepts are one of the few things I don't feel bad about being violently abusive to. The peculiar thing is that, in terms of language education, Edmonton seems to have one of the most progressive approaches in the country, yet it is in probably the most politically conservative province in the country (Albania, that is).

The other article is an essay by A. O. Scott (another NYT journalistic superstar adored by those geeky mediaphile types) about a recent--inevitably problematic, yet still fun--poll done by the NYT about what the best American 'work of fiction' in the last 25 years is. Toni Morrison's Beloved won. Don Delillo cracked the top 5 with Underworld, which is one of my favourite novels (my profile even says this, therefore this is absolute truth: capital A, capital T). For the life of me I don't know why we have read the stupid A Clockwork Orange (which I love), instead of Delillo or at least something American, in my stupid Post Modern lit class (which is my favourite class ever), but I digress. By the way, 50% of that class is just practicing how to say pretentious things like "I digress."

Baby beavers are semi-nocturnal. This I learned during my adventure to the Beaver Dam (no room for any joke there) located at the South-East (or some other direction) end of Ft. George Park last Thursday. We (me, Rocksand & Shawntel) also had a picnic and rocked the world of Bocce Ball (which is suprisingly easy to rock). Rocksand killed an ant, presumably because she hates all ants. I could write a paragraph or so about how ants belong at picnics, but this post is already stupid (or brilliant?) enough. The main point is that Roxanne's ant holocaust should be hyperbolically exaggerated, blown out of proportion, and quickly forgotten (did I mention I hope to work in the media some day?).

Thursday was good; Friday was probably better. Possibly because we ate mammoth (adjective not noun) Pita Pit pitas and briefly hung out (not to be confused with hanging out in briefs) with the people whose wedding we are attending on Monday. Said people are Tracy (sister to sister-in-law of Rock) and Jonathan Livingston. He is excellently named, since, as you might know (and as wikipedia has recently informed me), Jonathan Livingston Seagull is a cultish 70s novel about the life of a seagull. It's funny that it is a text about flying around everywhere, because the real-life Jonathan Livingston has recently become an air-traffic controller. So, maybe the name is meant to be allusive, although it is more likely that I am just on crack. Also, on Friday he was showing a healthy contempt for warranties and not stealing software by modding a 250GB HDD onto his Xbox, which will allow him to copy any Xbox games he might wish to "own" after renting them. Anyway, good people.

Speaking of Edmonton, how 'bout them Oilers?! Holy Mighty Peca Hemsky Horcoff! Since when are the Oilers so good? Not since 1992 (?), which is the last time the made it to the final 4. I don't feel guilty about jumping on the bandwagon of team that I third most wanted to win the Stanley Cup. You see, my approach was that I would cheer for Canadian teams in based on which city has won the fewest Stanley Cups. Hence I cheered for Ottawa, Calgary, Edmonton, then Montreal. Since Edmonton is the only one left, my bandwagonry is somewhat justified. Also, I feel like I deserve to cheer for a hardworking team for once, given that the Canucks are listless, hapless, and spiritless. Anyway, Edmonton is pretty great. They've had the offensive depth all season, and everyone is firing on all prisoners (or is it cylinders, I need to work on my metaphors). They really do have a great mix of veterans with something to prove (Smyth, Smith, Peca, Pronger, Roloson) and youth with talent (Horcoff, Hemsky, Pisani). Plus they have Space K, who is probably like an alien, or some kind of astronaut, or at least from Europe.