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The last day of freedom

Today is the last business day that I will be a freelance programmer. Next Monday, July 14th (Bastille Day!), I will report to Tucows for my first day as their first-ever Technical Community Development Coordinator.

The thing I will miss most in the switch from working at home to working at the Tucows offices: naptime!

It’s the best perk of working at home, far better than being able to sneak a quick peek at the TV, do laundry, singing along with a blasting stereo (my current thing: doing a falsetto along with Goldfrapp’s Strict Machine), work in your pajamas (or nekkid) or take a nice private dump in your very own bathroom. Sometimes the answers to vexing programming problems come to me when I put the computer and myself to sleep for a half hour in the middle of the afternoon.

There’s got to be some place in Tucows’ warehouse space where one can recharge their batteries with a quick snooze. Maybe I can fashion some kind of secret napping cubbyhole in the ductwork.

(Note to Elliot and Ross: I kid! I kid!)

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Jim Moore’s Politics of Tenderness

Jim Moore writes in his weblog:

Maybe what we want is a “politics of tenderness.” Tenderness is healing, tenderness provides a sense of safety, tenderness allows the “other” to become open enough to touch and express their highest creativity and love.

This seems to me to be one of the most radical ideas in politics. It’s so radical it freaks a lot of people out — “Too soft.” “Won’t work.” “What about security?”

Well, what about security? In a very small world shared by 6.3 billion people, most of whom now can see what the others are doing, isn’t it possible that much of the toxic resentment and anger that swirls around is a response to a lack of tenderness? Not just lack of personal tenderness, but lack of “institutional” tenderness. How tender is it for us to intervene in Iraq, where there is lots of oil, but not become involved in Liberia or the Congo–where people are experiencing near genocides?

I’m not sure how it could be translated into the world of global politics, but in my own personal experience, an ounce of goodwill today has always proven to be a better and less costly investment than a pound of whup-ass tomorrow.

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Jim Moore’s "Politics of Tenderness"

Jim Moore writes in his weblog:

Maybe what we want is a “politics of tenderness.” Tenderness is healing, tenderness provides a sense of safety, tenderness allows the “other” to become open enough to touch and express their highest creativity and love.

This seems to me to be one of the most radical ideas in politics. It’s so radical it freaks a lot of people out — “Too soft.” “Won’t work.” “What about security?”

Well, what about security? In a very small world shared by 6.3 billion people, most of whom now can see what the others are doing, isn’t it possible that much of the toxic resentment and anger that swirls around is a response to a lack of tenderness? Not just lack of personal tenderness, but lack of “institutional” tenderness. How tender is it for us to intervene in Iraq, where there is lots of oil, but not become involved in Liberia or the Congo–where people are experiencing near genocides?

I’m not sure how it could be translated into the world of global politics, but in my own personal experience, an ounce of goodwill today has always proven to be a better and less costly investment than a pound of whup-ass tomorrow.

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Diss[ect]ing Leah McLaren

Photo: The Globe and Mail's standard photo of Leah McLaren that usually accompanies her columns.

Leah McLaren.

There’s a new blog in town, and it’s about Leah McLaren, the Globe and Mail’s terribly cute, terribly self-absorbed columnist. You might remember her from last year’s fuss over an article she wrote in The Spectator complaining about how British men were pretty useless at the art of seduction (You may also recall that another pretty North American woman, Gwyneth Paltrow, had the same complaint). Leah writes the what-it’s-like-to-be-young-blonde-and-beautiful-like-me-in-this-crazy-old-world column Generation Why, which I presume is the Globe and Mail’s bid to attract the twenty-something entry-level-at-the-firm crowd. Middle-level white collar worker bees make up the lion’s share of their readership, and they have to come from somewhere.

I have met Leah in passing at one cocktail party or another (hey, the accordion opens doors) but I what I know about her, I know through her columns. Let’s just say that I’ve seen better paper after wiping my ass. The self absorption is so great that not even light — and certainly not humility — can escape. There’s not much research or thought put into the writing; one can imagine that she bashes them out just before deadlines between venti macchiatos at ‘Bucks (and one can imagine she calls it “‘Bucks”, too) while multitasking between the Pottery Barn and Holt Renfrew catalogues. Her writing doesn’t contain so much personality as metropolitan hipster responses to urban stimuli.

Someone by the name of Coyle seems to agree with me. Coyle is the person behind Dissecting Leah McLaren, a new blog “dedicated to the examination, analysis and ridicule of Canada’s (and quite possibly the world’s) most inept “celebrity journalist”.

A snippet from the inaugural entry:

Now, if you don’t know who Leah McLaren is, you’re probably sitting there, wondering aloud “who the hell is this Leah person and what’s so wrong about her?”

The answer is that she is a 20-something columnist for the Globe and Mail (www.globeandmail.com), which is the most respected of Canada’s newspapers. She writes a column entitled “Generation Why”, which is probably a not-too-clever reference to Douglas Coupland’s novel Generation X, but appropriately titled considering that she seems to have no idea what the hell is going on in the world. Her column is effectively a mosaic of ridiculous cultural and gender stereotypes, vacant explorations of pop culture and her own sense of self-importance. On the oft occasion, she’ll try to appear self-depreciating, but the veneer that Ms. McLaren believes that she is anything but the greatest human being in history the universe isn’t even worth laughing at.

With her model-like appearance and likewise proportioned ego, McLaren is the daughter of another writer and former editor of the same paper, and now a synonym for “nepotism” in Canada. Because god knows that there are thousands upon thousands of struggling young writers across the nation who are wittier, more incisive, more intelligent and much, much more interesting than Leah, but will never get the chance at having her job because they lack the requisite connections to be as successful as she is.

I’d call her the Vanilla Ice of journalism, but frankly, not even Vanilla deserves to be treated with such disdain.

Word to your editor.

Now you might wonder what all the vitriol’s about. After all, you might ask, is what I’m doing here in The Adventures of AccordionGuy in the 21st Century all that different from what she’s doing?

And I would reply — but not after first giving you a well-deserved and bracing pimp-slapping — that I do it better, smarter, with more interesting stories over a wider range of topics, with more thought, research, personality and integrity — and I do it for free. And many other bloggers out there do an even better job than I ever could. Therein lies the difference.

Recommended reading

Recent Leah McLaren articles for your perusal:

FYI: The term is self-deprecating, not self-depreciating.

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Attention anyone who wants to do a "fringe theatre" version of "The Matrix"

This awesome clip of a Matrix-style ping pong game from a Japanese TV show proves that it’s possible to get The Matrix’s signature “Bullet Time” effects live and onstage, without computer graphics. Windows Media Player required.

(Thanks to Jason Kottke’s sidebar for the link.)

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Don’t blame me, I’m doing my part…

Tak Toyoshima looks at the lack of Asian representation in TV and movies and the touchiness that sometimes results in the latest installment of his web comic, Secret Asian Man:

Comic: Secret Asian Man - 'Are We Feeling a Little Touchy...?'

Doesn’t the angry guy look like me? I mean, if you gave him longer hair on the top and an accordion and made him smile more often.

You can’t accuse me of not doing my part. Last year, I appeared on the HGTV series Love By Design as one of the eligible bachelors — I was both “the funny one” and “the guy who doesn’t live in squalor.” This year, I played “the quirky accordion rocker” on MuchMusic, and come September, on a new W Network series called Living Romance, I’m the guy they send out on the street to pick up women armed only with his wit and an accordion.

(At one point during the Living Romance shoot, someone phoned the producer, asking her if they had to “wrangle” — TV/movie talk for getting stuff or people; in this case, women for me to serenade — girls to appear on camera for my street serenading scenes. She answered “Joey had no trouble wrangling them himself.”)

So when I do get my guest appearance on 24?

Recommended Reading

Other relevant Secret Asian Man comics:

Frances Kai-Hwa Wang has two articles on Asian characterization in the media:

Where are the rock stars? As far as MuchMusic goes, my guess is that the rockers of Asian descent who’ve had the most live air time are (in order):

I suspect that the situation is worse on MTV, as their list has only James and Dave. MTV, feel free to call me.

Photo: Joey deVilla at MuchOnDemand's 100th episode, playing Britney Spears' 'Baby One More Time' live in the MuchMusic studios.

Last year’s appearance on MuchMusic. Come to think of it, if you were to list live accordion appearances at MuchMusic in terms of air time, it would be: 1. Weird Al Yankovic, 2. They Might Be Giants, 3. Me.
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Yeah, that about sums it up

The webcomic Soap on a Rope nails it right on the head in the July 3rd installment:

Comic: 'Soap on a Rope' for July 3, 2003.

My dilemma exactly. They start off sounding so sensible, and suddenly they say something that makes it seem as if crack is already legal.

(This particular comic was the last one of a storyline that begins here. Here’s the poke-fun-at-liberals one, and here’s the poke-fun-at-conservatives one.)