God's Own Electric Circus

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Seventy-five dollars in cash for a ticket, a whole box of food stuffs [thanks Janie!], a quart of orange flavored vodka, and an unbridled urge to party.

I left with Gill for Rollo Bay at three on Friday afternoon. After a long haul up route two we made landfall around four. There were three rows of cars, and two rows of tents… we set up camp in the middle of the second row. There wasn’t much to do after we had arranged ourselves since the music hadn’t started yet. Half the field was being quickly overtaken with frisbees, footballs and footbags. The sun was bright and radiant so I strategically placed my blanket down to relax and save a spot for Robert’s eventual arrival. Matt and Coranna were first upon the scene, and I flagged them down. It would be another hour before Rob finally arrived, and the party could really start.

Rob’s tent got real smokey, right quick. Tenting is some sort of crazy fun, especially when you’re in the middle of a tent city and everyone is chillen. The festival had a great atmosphere, everyone was upbeat and friendly. Perfect party environment. We emerged from our tent to the sounds of GTB and Metric. To my recollection this was my first time hearing these acts, and I was enthralled.

Gill’s tent was a two seater… as in two people may be able to sit upright in it. There was no chance that I’d have been able to squeeze my gangly self in that night. It was much the same deal with Rob’s tent, and despite offers from other campers I attempted to recharge myself in the backseat of Gill’s sedan. This was a challenge that my knees didn’t appreciate.

Waking in the morning I made good use of the more than adequate washing facilities. Somehow, I managed to haul Matt, Rob and Corrana away from their wake and bake, towards some hot breakfast courtesy of the Blue Fin’s culinary experts. I held off drinking liquor for the rest of the morning, and well into the afternoon. However, most of my fellow campers decided to combat their hangovers with more good liquor loving. Saturday afternoon was filled with lounging on the hill, exploring the backwoods and long range group frisbee action in the surf.

Later that evening, drinking resumed with several half-and-half vodka mixes in my Resolve mug. Somehow I don’t think that mug will ever taste the same… Just when I thought I was drunk, I came upon Janelle attempting to twirl a baton between two sticks. Her finishing move was a spectacular attempt to drop into a push up supporting herself between these sticks. That wasn’t the first time poor Janelle would introduce herself to the grass… After several attempts to run backwards, and chase small wily dogs, Matt carefully returned Janelle to her tent, where we made sure she was securely wrapped in her sleeping bag.

Freed from her babysitting duties, Nancy joined Matt, Rob and I for an awesome rock-out to Buck 65. After that show we headed to the woods to enjoy the serene quality of nature. There was some talk about spending the night under the stars, but those thoughts were dashed by the onset of scattered showers. As it was well passed her bedtime, Nancy left us as we traveled towards Skratch Bastid’s indoor jam. Later Rob would also fall from the ranks, leaving only the brave (and wasted) Matt and me to hip hop until the break of dawn. I had downed the rest of my quart throughout the night, cut liberally with whiskey and some random offerings of mix. And yet somehow I never felt even slightly queasy throughout that night.

Around four AM I humbly accepted Janelle and Nancy’s offer to stay in their luxurious (and spacious) tent. In the morning I awoke well before the girls, feeling damp and dirty. The sky was still cast-over and everything was wet. Gill was awake when I got to her tent. She recounted her brutal awakening to the “drunk song.” It seems wherever Gill goes strange folk follow, whether they be drunken Aussie street performers in full pirate gear, or drunken fishermen wrapped in cannabis flags…

Sunday morning, after dragging Rob from his repose we once more headed to the Blue Fin for another hearty breakfast. Apparently Rob sat in one of the local patron’s favorite seats, the old lady stirred up some trouble, but Rob remained stalwart [stoned].

Tents were coming down all around us when we returned. The piles of liquor bottles were overflowing from every garbage receptacle. It was kind of sad to see our tent city being dismantled, all good things must come to and end I guess… Especially considering most people would not have survived another night. We did take special care however in marking our camping spot with a concentrated scatter of pistachio shells. Next year we'll be able to find our same spot by simply looking for all the pistachio trees...

While I have been to several multi-day music festivals in my past, this year’s Shoreline was by far my favourite adventure. The venue was beautiful and well maintained, the event was well organized and security kept out most unregistered babies. Friends and fellow partiers were awesome. I have found a new love for maritime music and the people who come together to share it.

Shoreline, I’ll be back and better prepared next year!

[This post will be edited throughout Monday including some great pictures from Nancy and Dan Cantin] 0 comments

There's a television in the lunchroom here at Resolve. When you are granted a break, or lunch, you needn't fear the horror of free mental activity. Freed from our headsets, and the scripted conversations of our programs, removed from our 17 inch monitors for a brief relief and once more vacuumed into the vortex of technology. Instead of freely conversing with colleagues, or simply enjoying the panoramic view afforded by the windowed walls, you are deluged by a constant torrent of noise and flittering images. This is information, self-important in its delivery. These programs designed to retain your attention, these commercials with compressed sound blasting, and ridiculous scenerios captivating, drawing you into a false sense of knowing, trusting, passively inducing you to consume. A ravenging consumption of time and attention.

I turned the employee TV off today when I went for my first break. This would have been a much bolder move had the lunchroom been filled with casual gawkers. Imagine the consternation, the brutal awakening... Melodramatic? We have soap operas for that. In our own lives we often have very little self importance. These characters on TV with their entangled lives of power, fantasy and vice, this irrelevant reality, is a brilliant distraction from our own self-induced boredom.

Holy stream-of-consciousness rant batman.

Let me be clear on my statement: communication whether with another being, or within your own mind is absolutely imperative. Continuously plugging yourself into any technological medium is a passive and developmentally thwarting behaviour.

When you get together with friends, turn off the TV, turn down the music. Use this time to converse, talk, interact, communicate, learn and develop friendships.

When you are alone, instead of escaping begin contemplating, planning, visualizing, dreaming; mull over concepts, develop ideas, do not worry about approaching a conclusion, understand all understanding as merely an abstraction from the wave and waft of universal energy. For most people, doing nothing, with no focus, is the best start to breaking free from this crazy information domain. And while we may never be truly free, approaching lucidity from whichever direction possible is the best method to living on your own terms and understanding your true purpose.

I went back to the lunchroom for my thirty minute break. The place was empty, the TV had been turned back on... blaring insignificant sports factoids to the deserted tables. I turned it off again, this time taking the care to trace the power cable back to where it met with an extension cord. After finding the source outlet, I vanquished the cold cathodes.

This time when some desperate person attempts to turn on their boob tube, they'll have to troubleshoot why it isn't working. The act of solving this problem may: 1) annoy them to tears 2) reward them with a grand sense of accomplishment 3) lead them to forgo this passive brain drain.

Check out White Dot: The international campaign against television for more information on this crisis of consciousness. 0 comments