and people say publishing is dead !

In the Star a few days ago there was a review of three different picture books with "green messages" for kids.

One was called "The Smash! Smash! Truck", (by David Fickling) refering to the sound of the recycling truck dumping bins on recycling day. It expels an account of the cycles of earth, water, plants, and animals ... basing its story around the fact that no atom ever wears out, we just make them useless for a long time.

What it means is this - we throw shit out and forget about it. We figure that things "dont exist" when we toss them ... but they go somewhere. Things just dont stop EXISTING. EVER ! They exist in landfills and obviously have effects on our sweet green earth. This rad little book attempts to teach kids whats up with the perpetual cycles of matter. The protagonist, Aidan Potts, starts it off with the Big Bang.

And it also describes how humans are materially implicated in the substance of the earth and sky.

And its a pop up book which is fucking cool.

There is nothing inspiring about reading Jane Eyre.

I keep waiting for Jane to do something cool, like punch someone in the face or set something on fire, but all this book is is a 10 year old orphans speculations about the weather and raisin biscuits.

Rasin biscuits are pretty good, but nothing to write a 422 page book about.

Toronto the grassy knoll.

This book rocked my world when I read it in the summer, and yesterday I stumbled upon the editors booth at Broken Pencil's Canzine fair. (I told the intern I wanted her to have my soul. Either that or have her job.) They are coming out with a new book in the middle of the month called The Edible City - Toronto Food from Farm to Fork. It's supposed to range from issues on third world poverty to bad restaurant service. Toronto is a city with a wacky cornicopia of cuisines, and they are testament to our awesomely varied population. Here is a scant review of whats to come: http://www.chbooks.com/catalogue/edible-city. I'll write a better one once I read it. LOLZ. Until then, though ... check out GreenTOpia and you will fall in if you dig Toronto in any shape or form.

Nothing tells of culture and environment quite like the fruits of its people.

We ARE what we eat, non ?

I’m currently reading Julie and Julia.

At first I thought the whole blog cooking project was unoriginal and lame. Who cares about what a 29 year old secretary in New York cooks every day?

On the other hand, I must give snaps to a woman who carved the marrow out of the inside of a bone with a paring knife. (My girl-power side says Yeah girl! My vegetarian side says Shame!) At any rate, I really identify with Julie Powell. (I think this is the point – if she weren’t a universally relatable character, being a 29 year old secretary with a blog and all, she wouldn’t have had a movie made after her blog) Her task of completing Julia Child’s entire French cooking cookbook of 524 recipes in 365 days is a rather brave adventure in the context of a domestic; some might even say mundane, life.

Isn’t it the small, daily parts of life that we treasure the most? (A day off? A cigarette on the balcony? Sneaky Dees nachos?)

The excruciating task of extracting bone fluid from a carcass was apparently well worth it, as Julie describes the marrow sauce as like eating good sex.

This makes my stomach turn a little. But it goes to show that even the most ordinary tasks can have awesome rewards.

This blog I recently checked out had a poll to see how many times per week Torontonians eat out. The majority said 1-3 times per week. But I think they’re lying. I have a hunch that eating out kicks cooking’s ass in Toronto. And it’s a shame.

That said, you can count on me NOT making Coq au Vin or Beef Bourguignon anytime soon. But I sure do admire those who do take on such ventures.

A few things I have read this summer.

Northanger Abbey, Jane Austen. There comes a time in every womans life that she must read Jane Austen and find out what all the fucking hype is about. I have always had the suspicion that her novels were merely chick lit from the 1800’s. Alas, I figured I owed it to my gender, particularly my mother, to giver her a whirl. I checked out Northanger Abbey from the library only to have my expectations confirmed. Jane Austen is B-O-R-I-N-G. Now, I have nothing against chick lit. And I do admit that I have only read the one book by Jane Austen, so maybe I can’t jump to conclusions like this. But my first Jane Austen experience will likely be my last, sorry to say.

George Monbiot: Heat. A crazy informative / slightly depressing account of climate change. Monbiot is a fierce environmentalist, who I was first introduced to in my environmental philosophy class in PEI. I fell in love, and have stayed faithful ever since. Anyone who is even remotely interested in the environment should read this. A notable excerpt:

“If in the year 2030, carbon dioxide concentrations in the atmosphere remain as high as they are today, the likely result is two degrees centigrade of warming. Two degrees is the point beyond which certain major ecosystems begin collapsing ... in other words, climate change (will be) out of our hands: it will accelerate without our help”

Read this book and help me save the world.

Of Mice and Men, Steinbeck. I read a bunch of short classics at the start of the summer, and this one really rocked my world. I shed a tear at the ending, to be honest.

The Godfather, Mario Puzo. This book took over my life for a little while. It also took over Macey and Laurels. Macey found it during a wild goose chase to a bike sale that never really existed in the end, but brought her to this tattered book on the street somewhere. It has been safe and sounds at 322 Shaw st. ever since.

GreenTOpia: Towards a Sustainable Toronto, various authors. This is a compilation of short essays with the goal of promoting good ideas to ensure that Toronto doesnt wither away with climate change. It has a bunch of creative ideas, including green hydrogen powered cabs, art projects like 'the painted line' between the city and the countryside, and composting toilets in parks like Dufferin Grove. So many more. The uTOpia series are devoted to the improvement of the city, written by and for, people who love Toronto.

Global Warming for Dummies. Its actually written by Elizabeth May, among others. the Dummies Series are fucking awesome.

Today, Marie Claire. I was in need of some mindless entertainment (where is Jane Austen when you need her?) and I saw Ashley Olson on the cover of the most recent issue and I am not ashamed to say that I grabbed it immediately. It did not disappoint my desire for big colourful font and fashion tips. Let it be known: strappy stilettos in charcoal menswear fabric put the POW in power dressing.

Book ADD

Andrew mocks me for my book ADD.

I, on the other hand, have no qualms with the fact that I read 5 books at a time, lamenting that I don’t have more hands to hold them with. But I finish always finish them. For the most part anyway. Perhaps my multiple book habit is due to a short attention span, a nurture complex that has forced me to desire much more than I need, (or simply the fact that I can’t read). Who knows? I just know I have always been like this.

I can see only one negative aspect to the inability to focus exclusively on one text. It translates to my other pursuits. I fear that I rarely get so involved in something that I lose all track of time and civilization and emerge to find I have created a masterpiece. My personal triumphs often involve the use of ambient music, tea drinking, and pacing, a lot of pacing. For example, I have never sat down at a computer and finished an essay in one intense fell / fowlie swoop. Or painted a large canvas without taking numerous breaks to gain perspective, inspiration, eat dry ribs, sip on a 40 ...

I think I speak for a lot of other young urban adults when I say all this. Look at the internet, look at the increasing presence of blog culture – short, captivating articles with fun pictures and captions. This is our world. This is our literacy. Our contemporary hieroglyphics are entirely ephemeral, floating in cyberspace for the lifespan of our computers. Do we have any substance? Maybe our substance was lost a long time ago with the birth of the computer, the looming death of the written word, our ever shortening attention spans.

I can be sure about one thing, though. The constant interests in my life that comprise my personality, influenced by Toronto, university, friends, travel ... every one of them points me back to the earth. I write about the environment because it calls me. I don’t know a lot about it yet, in fact, the more I read the more mystifying it becomes (perhaps this is because I can never focus on just one book at a time). But I want to learn everything. I want to know how to resolve the gap between the people we once were, and the people we have become – products of a civilization that have no concept of true value. Everything in my life points me back to this.