The Rat Unpacks

What follows might not be interesting for everybody.

I spent yesterday in some kind of stupor, the dizzying state in which a guy comes back to his hometown with ten tons of fatigue on his back. No movies after work. No nothing. I cooked myself some rice, replied to some emails, and spoke with Tranie Tronic on the phone about our upcoming gig, at Casa Del Popolo, on September 14th. I found a Jon Lee Anderson article in an old New Yorker issue, about the future of Liberia and its female president, and fell asleep after a few lines.

This morning, woken up around 9 by the landlord's helper, who cannot swipe a floor without hitting the walls repeatedly with the broom, Miss Bijoux decided it was time for me to unpack a few things. As in, "getting rid of". There was a box full of unknown treasures lying on top of my desk, just waiting to be explored, and she brought it to the kitchen, where we proceeded to take a look at all the useless paper inside.

Bills. Enveloppes. More bills. Notes from all over. Notes about nothing. Song lyrics. Poems. Ideas. Synopsis. Short stories. Essays. Receips. Things that made no sense at all. Documentation about me apparently having bought a car. Like whenever I dig in the past like this, I did not go unsurprised. I found stubs for a shitload of movies I've seen at Fantasia over the years. Stubs for all the Neon parties I have attended between 2002 and 2004. Receips from L'Indicatif, the record store I was buying from in '03. I would go there every two weeks and spend between 60 and 100$ on vinyls, and some of the stuff I bought is just plain sucky.

I found the lyrics for my 2002 hit, "La Mort d'un Bûcheron", recorded with my ex Maryse and my ex roommate Matt Dubois. I have no idea where the audio tape for that is, but I have the lyrics, the most important part of the song. I half joked that this classic text could land me a spot in the "Dictionnaire des Poètes Québécois" alongside Séba.

My recycling bin is overflowing : I threw away most of the stuff I dug up, except what's valuable. I have kept every absurd note I ever took down during my extra-long stay at Hollywood Vidéo Dépôt. If I ever need inspiration for anything, a look at these should do it.

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Have you ever danced in the dark with Abel Ferrara ? You'll hear lots about this most unique filmmaker in future postings. I am in the process of watching his movies with new eyes, and discovering the ones I had not yet previously seen. For reasons I'll explain later.

Coming up are THE GLADIATOR and a few other surprises. I have an original VHS of his CRIME STORY TV movie dubbed in french, something as useless, perhaps, as my CHINA GIRL VF. They will be given away in an unprecedented VHS throwing frenzy, without first going through my VCR. As lots of movies will soon discover, this is the path least taken - but it will house an overwhelming traffic jam in the near future.

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There are only a few weeks left before I go back to school and it makes me feel nostalgic. As always, springtime saw ideas blossom by the pound, and plans multiply; with the summer fading, I realise that I didn't end up doing half of what I wanted to accomplish.

I did not read many books. Too busy or tired. And it's a pity, because I'll probably have a shitload of stuff to read when the semester starts. I watched some movies, but not as many as I would have liked. I went out. A lot. But I was not always sober, and not always in a party mood. I didn't do lots about my DJ "carreer" but I can at least say I tried.

I worked a minimum amount of hours, just what was necessary to keep the cash flowing, and I paid many bills - a fact that does not deflate my other debts but that encourages me a bit. But August is far from over, and exciting events are still coming up, so don't despair - and I won't. I guess I just need some sleep and a good drinking binge.