This page will soon become the site's index page again, so it may necessitate changing RSS subscription settings (I'm not totally sure on that). Changes should be occurring as of the next posting.
Have a great weekend.
JiM

I've been utterly fascinated by all the hype surrounding Capote (the movie) so awhile back, I checked In Cold Blood out of the library and sat down for a read. At first, the book felt like I was reading the world's longest newspaper report, but the more I got into the book the more I was lured into it's examination of the criminal mind, and the motives behind the murders. A number of times I had to stop and remind myself that these events actually took place. I didn't stop to consider how accustomed I'd become to the media bombast of murder, violence, greed and corruption I face everyday until I watched both the movie version of In Clod Blood (highly recommended), and the aforementioned hype machine Capote (also highly recommended).
There's a scene in Capote that fascinates me, repels me, and utterly engages me. Truman Capote has returned to New York from Kansas, where he has abandoned Perry Smith (the murderer) in his death-row jail cell to do a staged reading from the book prior to publication. At this point the book is not finished because Capote can't get Smith to tell him his account of the events on the night of the murders. The point of the reading is to get people talking and create a buzz. It works. The audience is in rapture as he reads; they hang on every word, every detail, and sit with their mouths agape. This amount of detail, this amount of reporting/storytelling is foreign to them and you can almost feel the contrasting forces in the room: they can't believe what they're hearing and want to stop but at the same time they can't help but listen. By the end, Capote is saluted with a standing ovation, and the attention and accolades he's been craving for are finally there for him. He's well on his way to becoming the world's best-known writer, and he's just given the world a small taste of what will become an international best-seller. The world is his oyster. But at what cost?
But this doesn't change the fact that four people lay dead in the ground over a botched robbery that amounts to $10 per death. There are still two men sitting in a jail waiting execution, whose very death will be necessary to get the book finished. Is this the point where we turned into tabloid junkies? And what does that make me now, in 2006: I am being drawn into the story of how one man was drawn into a story that he in turn drew millions of people into. Fascinating.
I wonder what modern-day Kansas has made of the renewed interest in the Clutter killings--comments anyone? (hint, hint)

If you Google the origin of the phrase "living the life of Riley" you'll find that there is no definite answer, but all indications point to popular music of the 1890s. There was a song by Pat Rooney about a man who had struck it rich called "Is That Mr. Reilly?". It featured the lyrics:

"Is that Mister Reilly, can anyone tell
Is that Mister Reilly that owns the hotel?
Well, if that's Mister Reilly they speak of so highly
Upon my soul Reilly, you're doing quite well."

The grass was always greener, wasn't it? Even back then, people envied their neighbour, and lamented their own lot in life. Seems that not much has changed.
Fast forward to 20 March 2006 (that's 116 years later, but whose counting?) and picture it: The first day back to work after vacation. The anticipation; the remorse; the lack of motivation; the commute in to the office; the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders the closer the car gets to your destination. Why can't I still be on vacation? Why do other people get to work from home? Why does my life seem so crappy in comparison to everyone else? It may be a bit early for May flowers, but the grass is looking pretty green around you.
Enter The Lightning Seeds, and their song "Life Of Riley". You downloaded it onto your iPod the day before from your sister's computer, because you remember how you owned the album back in 1992, and what a great pop band they/he are (The 'Seeds are basically Ian Broudie, producer of Echo & the Bunnymen).

Although this World is a crazy ride,
You just take your seat and hold on tight.
So here's your life,
We'll find our way,
We're sailing blind,
But it's certain nothing's certain.
I don't mind,
I get the feeling,
You'll be fine,
I still believe,
That in this World,
We've got to find the time,
For the Life of Riley...

It's then that you remember today is the first day of Spring. The air is still crisp with -0°C temperatures, but the sun is out, so it feels like everyone in the world simultaneously left their front doors open while their air conditioners are running. The sun makes everything around you sparkle, as if it was buffed overnight by a tiny army of elves. You realize that you haven't hit a red light in the last 10 minutes. The headache you woke up with is gone. There's a tingling sensation coming from your right hand because you're drumming the steering wheel in time to the song. You open up the sun roof, the fresh air rolls in, and at the top of your lungs you belt out in time (yet out of tune):

I don't mind,
I get the feeling,
You'll be fine,
I still believe,
That in this World,
We've got to find the time,
For the Life of Riley

You know that regardless of all the whining and complaining, bitching and moaning, there's no one to blame for your current circumstances but you. Every once in a while you need reminding that if you want to change things, it's in your hands. Although this world is a crazy ride, you just take your seat and hold on tight.
Here's my gift to you on the occasion of my 100th post to this blog: Take one of these and call me in 4 minutes and 2 seconds. I guarantee you, things will feel a lot better.
Cheers.

You may be wondering what I've been up to, so let me tell you... not much. Really. Work has been busy and I've not really found a lot of time to myself, and I spent the first part of my March Break at my Association's Annual General Meeting, so I haven't really been doing, or thinking very much. I've just sort of been existing in place. Ever have those times in your life, when it doesn't seem like anything too extremely important is happening to you, and it feels like the present is going to become a vague memory when you know you did/were doing something at this/that time but can't for the life of you remember what it was? That's me right now. But I guess, in a way, I've circumvented the loss of this time by making a blog entry right now that will solidify this moment in my memory, or at least give me the opportunity to recall it at a later date. So really, what I'm trying to say here is... nothing really, because I'm just making a post for the sake of making a post because I haven't made a post in awhile and that's something you're supposed to do when you have a blog, right?
Here's what I think you should do: I think you should download this song from me right now: Amy Millan "Skinny Boy" from her forthcoming solo album Honey From the Tombs. Amy's other band, Stars, is a personal favourite of mine (and the source for the name of this blog) and her other other band, Broken Social Scene, is also a favourite. This song is burning a hole through my iPod right now. Favourite part 0:47 seconds in when she sings "And you got lips I could spend the day with" for the first time. {melt my heart} I think Amy has one of the best voices in pop music today, and based on the strength of this track alone, I think this solo album will mark her out as a talented songwriter on top of great singer. It is so distinctly her, yet so un-Stars-like, which would only make sense if you've heard Stars before, so I better let you hear them, too: Stars "Ageless Beauty"

I've seen this making it' way around some blogs lately, but I was tagged by a friend via e-mail to fill it out and forward it. I've decided to add it here as a post, too. Like my list of 100 things, here's Four things...

Four jobs you've had in your life:
1. Teacher
2. University Recruiting Officer
3. Produce Clerk in a grocery store
4. Conference Co-ordinator

Four movies you can watch over and over:
1. Rear Window
2. To Kill A Mockingbird
3. Wizard Of OZ
4. Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Four places you have lived:
1. Welland, Ontario
2. Waterloo, Ontario
3. Welland, Ontario again
(that's it!)

Four TV shows you love to watch:
1. Survivor
2. Six Feet Under
3. Lost
4. Arrested Development

Four places you've been on vacation:
1. Jamaica
2. Paris, France
3. Los Angeles, California
4. Italy

Four websites you visit daily:
1. My own (http://homepage.mac.com/jadigioia)
2. Zip.ca to check on my account status (www.zip.ca)
3. Google
4. Right now I keep checking www.morrisseymusic.com every day to see if there's anything there

Four of your favourite foods:
1. Potato chips
2. penne pasta
3. mashed potatoes
4. cherry cheesecake

Four places you'd rather be right now:
1. At a cottage in Muskoka
2. On a warm beach somewhere
3. In bed sleeping
4. Sitting in a hot-tub

Four of your favourite things to do:
1. Sit and read--anywhere
2. Go record shopping
3. Organize and clean my house
4. Watch a good movie or good play

Four of your favourite drinks (alcoholic or non):
1. iced tea
2. watermelon Smirnoff Twists
3. Coca-Cola C2
4. Caesars

Four people who will respond to you (the pressure's on):
1. Donna
2. Katy
3. Teresa
4. Krista

Just looking for anyone's opinion here. I've been wondering whether I should just get rid of the "home" page I started using a few weeks ago and make this blog page the home page for this site, or leave it as is. It will mean anyone whose reading the RSS feed has to change their link to the page, but I'm not sure how many people are actually doing that. Leave a comment below. Thanks.

Here's a multiple choice question for you:
Watching upwards of three hours of Six Feet Under in a row will make you:
a) Ponder the fragility of human existence in a world that no longer cherishes life as precious and commodifies personal relationships as tools for validation of our own self-worth.
b) View your own life with less cynicism in light of the perils and woes befalling the Fisher clan.
c) Question the validity of the choices you've made in your own life, and point out how flawed your own perception of yourself is by reflecting your very existence back to you in the form of a fictional character (or characters) on an HBO Original TV series.
d) Experience numbness in your lower extremities and flatten the side of your head where it rested against the pillows.
e) All of the above.

I'm going to die. Someday. So are you. And when we're gone, our absence will be felt by others, whether we actually had any connection with them in our life or not. And while we're off pondering the meaning of our existence and whether we did anything worth while we were alive, those people will wonder if the tie they chose to wear to the funeral service goes with their shirt. Or whether the cemetery is going to be muddy and should they wear their good shoes. Or, after reading the obituary page, they may wonder if they had Chemistry with us in grade 11 or English Lit. in 12. See, the truth is, no one is going to question whether your life was worth living but you. And to wait and do that after your dead is missing the boat. You're better off doing the things you want to do while you're here, when you have the chance. It's lazy to turn your life over to fate and destiny. Nothing is predetermined, but everything is pre-connected; you chose which connections to take. We blame others for our choices when we don't like them, or worse yet, let others make the choices for us, so we never have to take responsibility for our own actions. In a way, we're the living dead while we're here on earth; we only fully understand what it means (meant) to be alive after we're gone...
I think a) If a TV series can provoke this much philosophical thought, it should be required viewing; b) I'm being far too analytical here, and should stop using the first person plural pronoun when I'm obviously referring to myself; c) I may have exceeded the daily maximum dosage for Buckley's cough syrup.