To summarize, ‘John’ indicated in November 2009 that this Orwellian facility has now stepped up their security even further with the presence of a vehicle patrol. Does a facility without windows and identifying signage, surrounded by barbed wire, and manned by menacing guards at security checkpoints, really need to fortify itself with an additional level of surveillance? Obviously not, if they have nothing to hide from other would-be citizen journalists. It definitely seems excessive for a donut-making facility.

The more anonymously-named ‘Insider’, apparently a worker in that building, stepped up to the facility’s defense in December 2009, indicating that the security was just doing its job, chided me for putting myself in danger by placing my vehicle in the paths of large trucks (which must have been why that red-faced security guard pursued me with such haste – to kindly request I take photographs of their facility from a safer location), gave a beaming description of the office’s interior, and spoke highly of the workplace rapport… while offering precious little information, particularly as an employee of that same facility, to offset or defend the negative critique of Tim Hortons’ / TDL Group Corporation practices which were presented in the article, although he commended me for having written it.

Finally, just days ago, at the end of May 2010, ‘Mark’ indicated that he appreciated the article, while adding rather scathing thoughts about Tim Hortons management itself, even providing two websites (this one, and this one) which highlight reported unfortunate dealings which the Tim Hortons Corporation (TDL Group) has with its franchisees. This is certainly a side of the company we normally wouldn’t be aware of.

It seems that Tim Hortons has taken advantage of the fact that it has become embedded in the Canadian consciousness as a cultural icon (just as Coca-Cola is vital to the American soul, which was proved by the New Coke fiasco), but as succinctly pointed out by blogger OhRyan (amongst other issues), in comparison with most (including, of all places, McDonalds), Tim’s coffee’s taste is substandard – unless you soak it in cream and sugar.  As well, their categorical ‘Always Fresh’ slogan contradicts the fact that the majority of the food was frozen off-site long before it is ever served to you. An even more eloquently written essay by Andrew Flemming says among other points for consideration, that “were it possible, the coffee served by Tim Horton’s would destroy the reputation of what has truly been handed down from on high.” Not to mention my own thoughts in comparing Timmy’s with Country-Style Donuts in a July 2006 post.  Besides that, they apparently have had a hand in rewriting proposed municipal by-laws in Ottawa which attempted to restrict drive thru’s in downtown, and in a number of locations are now selling a 2010 calorie / 131 gram of fat concoction referred to as the “worst beverage in America“. Classy.

Despite these issues, it is definitely a successful business – when I go to the local gas station, which also contains a tiny Tim Hortons kiosk, there is an interminable line-up of individuals, eagerly shuffling forward for double-doubles, compared with the few who are just coming in to pay for their fuel. But, I asked in my September 2007 article, ‘Is this the same old story of a sprawling company just getting too bloated and arrogant, prioritizing the whims of its shareholders over the common good?’, and it appears to be increasingly true as time goes on. Those friendly Tim Horton restaurants you see at far too many Canadian street corners, as well as their overly touching commercials, and the brand’s ’s integration in Canadian culture, seem to be a cunning facade for a company which is increasingly distancing itself from the more wholesome principles it used to be known for.

By happenstance, I had obtained a rather extensive collection of classical record albums a few years ago.  I set about listening to them over many quiet evenings, and ended up hearing quite a number of pieces from the likes of Bach, Tchaikovsky, and Mozart for the very first time.  My selection method for choosing a particular vinyl record disc tended to be whatever hit my fancy, and that particular evening, having had limited experience with Schoenberg and knowing the high quality associated with classical record label Deutsche Grammophon, I placed Side 1 of the 1981-era album (#2535 014) pictured on the left (and here) upon the turntable.  This record featured Alexander Lonquich on the piano, playing Schoenberg’s Opus 11, “Three Piano Pieces”.  This piece was performed for the first time in 1910, which marked a “decisive first step into uncharted musical territory”, according to the notes on the back of the album cover.

Now, to those who read my previous entry, you would have noted a link to an article showing videos of Schoenberg’s “Three Piano Pieces”, a special performance of this “tune” which was assembled and edited from myriad footage of various cats playing the piano.  Well, as I sat there that evening next to my record player and first heard this piece emerge from my stereo system, the effect was quite similar: being struck by jarring, discordant sounds, but with a hopeful expectation that it was going to get better.  Unfortunately at the time, there wasn’t even the amusing spectacle of kitties innocently clambering across piano keys to make it a little more bearable.  I continued to sit in my easy chair, reading a book, while listening in the background to the piece’s movements, one after another (which you can also listen to via YouTube: one, two, and three), desiring an eventual return to more familiar musical territory, in the hopes that I wouldn’t have to consign Schoenberg to the “avoid” heap.

But then, suddenly, a brief pause occurred in the piece, and then I began to hear a distinct melody arise from the atonality.  I looked up from my book, caught off-guard by how nicely Schönberg was finishing what had been up until then a ghastly incoherence for my ears (ears, by the way, which have delighted in classical music since youth).  The piece was becoming an ever-lovelier discovery as the notes played on.  Finally, the movement finished after another ten minutes or so, and the pleasant sounds faded away as the tonearm lifted and Side 1 of the record ended.  I found my opinion of Schoenberg being modified in my mind; perhaps he was unpleasantly unconventional for the first part of his piece, but at least he finished well!

I then flipped over the record to hear the piano performance on the other side.  I knew that Side 2 contained a piano sonata by romantic-era composer Franz Schubert; as a fan of his music, I was looking forward to hearing a piece which was new to me.  But when I started the record, I heard a similar piano style to what I had just finished hearing at the end of Side 1, I looked at the track list on the back of the album cover, and I slowly realized what had actually happened.  That pleasant ending of the piece at the end of on Side 1 was not written by Schoenberg, but was actually the first movement of Schubert’s Piano Sonata in A Minor (D.845, Opus 42) which then continued with its second, third, and fourth movements on Side 2! (You can listen to the four movements of this Schubert sonata via YouTube: one, two, three, and four.)

It had been like overhearing a bad mix tape selection and thinking that The Beatles’ infamously awful ‘Revolution 9‘ was also part of the famously beautiful ‘Eleanor Rigby‘.  I continued to listen to the lovely Schubert piece, noting the total contrast between his romantic music, and Schoenberg’s proto-surrealistic cacophony.  The notes on the back of the album say that in this piece, “there is a renunciation of the loosely-knit motivic elaboration with which in his early works Schoenberg had sought to furnish incontrovertible justification for every step he took.”   No wonder he died feeling misunderstood, never seeing the so-called “emancipation of dissonance”, if this is the level of language one needs to understand in a critique of his music.  One hundred years after Opus 11’s original performance, his pieces still lack the wide acceptance which is enjoyed by other classicists who challenged the conventions of musical development of the time, such as Beethoven, Liszt, and Stravinsky.  Perhaps it would help if Schoenberg’s work didn’t sound so much like cats on a piano…

So, in the interest of increasing the credibility of this blog, here is a video of our feline hitting the ivories:

YouTube Direktvideo link

As our cat begins, you can see him glance briefly at the nearby sheet music before commencing his own personal improvised variation. Regularly looking upwards for inspiration, he turns back and completes his delightful freestyle composition at the lower end of the keys, finally settling to a place of repose at the top of the piano, a look of satisfaction clearly displayed.

Perhaps there is sufficient talent to inspire our cat to strive to the sublime heights which Nora the Piano Cat has reached (see her website here, and her videos here, including one featuring her famous ‘headroll‘ technique).  Indeed, one can see from the video above that our cat displays an apparent gift for music, emulating the atonal style of famous pianist Arnold Schoenberg.  Perhaps watching cats perform is where Schoenberg got his ideas?  As subtle proof of this, blogger Cory Arcangel put together a compilation of numerous different videos featuring a cat playing a piano, which he edited into the sound of Schoenberg’s Opus 11 (written back in 1909, and entitled “Three Piano Pieces”).  There appears to be impressive atonal talent in these kitties, though at least one cat is reported to get into fits from hearing Schoenberg.

I never realized that cats were such musical animals.

I do not know who the illustrator of this painting is; many have drawn their own similar interpretations of this verse, some of which can be seen from a Google Images search, but that particular one is not to be found.  The context and symbolism is generally the same – Christ standing outside the door of the individual’s heart or life, knocking, appealing to that person to respond.  But as speaker Alex Stevenson would eloquently indicate in this short excerpt of a message he gave, there is an error in that particular portrait.  He mentions during his message that Holman Hunt’s famous 1851 painting of Revelation 3:20 got it right, since the door handle is actually supposed to be on the inside.  Jesus does not force himself onto people, but only comes in by invitation.  Some excellent additional interesting background on Hunt’s painting and its symbolism by Eric Hayden is available here, describing the extensive research Hunt did to properly depict the Lord Jesus’ thorns, robes, and capture the overall symbolism.

As well, here is William MacDonald’s practical take on the verse which also features some of my wife’s beautifully touched-up photographs of interesting medieval doors in Budapest.

If you listen to the entirety of Alex Stevenson’s message (8.9 Mb, 37.5 minutes), he goes into other places in Scripture where the symbolism of a doorway is also used to represent Christ, such as in John 10:9 where Jesus says, “I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture.“  Jesus is not one of many doorways to salvation, but the door.  And similarly to above, He does not impose on anyone to open that doorway, of making that step of faith and trusting in Him, but only appeals individually.  Click on the pic.

Have a great Sunday!

Historically the stereotype has been that dogs chase cats.  This was, however, not the case during that visit.  At best, our (typically affectionate) cat took a defensive stance with requisite hissing; at worst, he methodically advanced towards and took some fairly aggressive warning swipes at poor, playful Mia.

Though no injuries were suffered, this was definitely not a helpful step in the ongoing peace process between felines and canines.  But it did very much remind me of a passage worth sharing from Jerome K. Jerome’s humourous 1889 classic, “Three Men in a Boat“, where the author’s dog, a fox terrier named Montmorency, has an encounter with a cat during the course of their travels.  I’ve excerpted this portion of chapter 13 from the original text (a version with the original illustrations), though the pure text is available here (via Project Gutenburg).  Enjoy!

We got up tolerably early on the Monday morning at Marlow, and went for a bathe before breakfast; and, coming back, Montmorency made an awful ass of himself. The only subject on which Montmorency and I have any serious difference of opinion is cats. I like cats; Montmorency does not.

When I meet a cat, I say, “Poor Pussy!” and stop down and tickle the side of its head; and the cat sticks up its tail in a rigid, cast-iron manner, arches its back, and wipes its nose up against my trousers; and all is gentleness and peace. When Montmorency meets a cat, the whole street knows about it; and there is enough bad language wasted in ten seconds to last an ordinarily respectable man all his life, with care.

I do not blame the dog (contenting myself, as a rule, with merely clouting his head or throwing stones at him), because I take it that it is his nature. Fox-terriers are born with about four times as much original sin in them as other dogs are, and it will take years and years of patient effort on the part of us Christians to bring about any appreciable reformation in the rowdiness of the fox-terrier nature … and, therefore, I do not blame Montmorency for his tendency to row with cats; but he wished he had not given way to it that morning.

We were, as I have said, returning from a dip, and half-way up the High Street a cat darted out from one of the houses in front of us, and began to trot across the road. Montmorency gave a cry of joy – the cry of a stern warrior who sees his enemy given over to his hands – the sort of cry Cromwell might have uttered when the Scots came down the hill – and flew after his prey.

His victim was a large black Tom. I never saw a larger cat, nor a more disreputable-looking cat. It had lost half its tail, one of its ears, and a fairly appreciable proportion of its nose. It was a long, sinewy- looking animal. It had a calm, contented air about it.

Montmorency went for that poor cat at the rate of twenty miles an hour; but the cat did not hurry up – did not seem to have grasped the idea that its life was in danger. It trotted quietly on until its would-be assassin was within a yard of it, and then it turned round and sat down in the middle of the road, and looked at Montmorency with a gentle, inquiring expression, that said:

“Yes! You want me?”

Montmorency does not lack pluck; but there was something about the look of that cat that might have chilled the heart of the boldest dog. He stopped abruptly, and looked back at Tom.

Neither spoke; but the conversation that one could imagine was clearly as follows:-

THE CAT: “Can I do anything for you?”

MONTMORENCY: “No – no, thanks.”

THE CAT: “Don’t you mind speaking, if you really want anything, you know.”

MONTMORENCY (BACKING DOWN THE HIGH STREET): “Oh, no – not at all – certainly – don’t you trouble. I – I am afraid I’ve made a mistake. I thought I knew you. Sorry I disturbed you.”

THE CAT: “Not at all – quite a pleasure. Sure you don’t want anything, now?”

MONTMORENCY (STILL BACKING): “Not at all, thanks – not at all – very kind of you. Good morning.”

THE CAT: “Good-morning.”

Then the cat rose, and continued his trot; and Montmorency, fitting what he calls his tail carefully into its groove, came back to us, and took up an unimportant position in the rear.

To this day, if you say the word “Cats!” to Montmorency, he will visibly shrink and look up piteously at you, as if to say:

“Please don’t.”

Although this book was originally intended as a serious travel guide for those who wanted to visit the sites along the Thames River, it actually is more of a series of very witty anecdotes of the amusing adventures of three friends and their dog.  Here are a couple of on-line reviews which have also cited some of their own favourite portions of the book.  And, based on the above cat and dog encounters, it appears some of his writing is quite timeless.

Russia vs Czech Republic:  4 – 2

United States vs Canada:  5 – 3

Given the history of Russo-Czech relations, as well as the ongoing rivalry with our American friends to the south, this can make these losses even more difficult.   Although both the Czech and the Canadian teams still have an opportunity to win medals, as a result of these games and the current standings, the Russians and Americans earned byes which allow them to rest and avoid additional rounds of qualifying games, which the other hockey teams will have to play.

What this means is that at the end of these Winter Olympics when the Canadian and Czech hockey teams stand on the podium with their gold and silver medals, their victories will be even more commendable, since they will actually have had to work a lot harder to earn them.

I would have thought that this would be the end of it, but a study has indicated that a cigarette can potentially be enjoyed even after the lingering smoke has dissipated.  This study has come up with the concept of “third-hand smoke” to describe the remnants from a cigarette’s smoke left behind on the surface of furniture, car seats, rugs, pets, clothes, and other materials long after the cigarette has been extinguished.  Although the study (actually, more of a telephone survey) did not actually involve taking samples of surfaces and dust in a smokers’ homes (which, without empirical results, would understandably make some question the theory), but according to the experts, one can delight in a cigarette long after the last puff by touching some surfaces.

As well, there appears to be evidence in a study published a couple of days ago that the third-hand smoke surface residue could theoretically react with certain substances in the air to form new and active compounds.  Should this then be considered fourth-hand smoke?  Compared to one-time only consumables like chocolate or Fresca, it seems that cigarettes just keep on giving, even when unlit.  Now that we are becoming aware how far they can go, the question becomes (especially for those on a budget), if someone remains in an enclosed space, could fewer cigarettes thus provide all the nutrients one needs for the day?

But, since being released on December 18, it did not take long for its box office returns to leap into the billions, with total worldwide earnings pegged on February 1st at $2.04 billion.  By standard accounting, it has now earned more money worldwide than any film before it, recently beating Titanic’s worldwide earnings of $1.84 billion, which had held the record since 1998.  However, as shown here, a more conservative estimate of Avatar’s global earnings, which also accounts for inflation, puts that movie at #4, beneath Gone With the Wind (#1), Titanic (#2), and Star Wars (#3), but just above E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial (#5).

As well, all time domestic box-office records can be found here, which has its own different take, as it does not appear to account for inflation (which is why Gone With the Wind is at #99).  At the time of this writing, Avatar was only $2M below Titanic, though I’m sure the two will change places on that list  shortly.

Regardless, the ongoing Hollywood box office returns competition involving James Cameron films brings me back to a classic little video I came across in around 1998.   Titanic had been released and was well on its way to becoming the highest-grossing movie in the world.  It was still a year before the release of the first of the new Star Wars prequels in May 1999, and Titanic presented a direct challenge to the box-office supremacy of the sprawling Star Wars franchise.

Video editing at the time was not the more simplified task it has become today, but it did not stop John Bunt from putting together this five-minute parody film, ‘Tie-Tanic” which cleverly combines elements of the two movie behemoths.  The basic plot: Titanic threatens the box office dominance of Star Wars.  The Galactic Empire will not stand for this.

YouTube Direktvideo link

Is it not already time for a similar blow to be leveled against Avatar?

Then, my wife returned from Europe with a bagful of an even tastier incarnation from Haribo called “Happy Cola”, which cannot be found very easily on this side of the Atlantic (the bag featured six different translation of the ingredients, none of them English).

Well, that 200 gram bagful, pictured here, did not last, as I went through it quite quickly… I found out you can get ten times that amount in one package if one wishes to get a more ample quantity via the 5-pound bags available on Amazon.  But before I considered that step, I checked out the nutritional value, and wondered how it compared to an actual bottle of cola.   Approximately 770 calories in the bag, and 400 calories in a 1 litre bottle of Coca-Cola… nearly double.  As for sugar levels, my research indicated that there are 58.4 grams of sugar per 100 grams of the candy.  Therefore, a 200 gram bag of Happy Cola is has a little more in sugar quantity compared to a full 1-litre bottle of Coca-Cola with its 108 grams.  This is well-illustrated on a handy site I came across a while back, ‘SugarStacks‘, which uses piles of standard sugar cubes as a visual aid to indicate how much sugar is contained in common “food” products.  However, because Happy Cola contains neither caffeine nor phosphoric acid, it does not quite have the long list of negative effects which come upon your body within 60 minutes of drinking a bottle of Coca-Cola.  As well, Happy Colas have 7.7 grams of protein (per 100 grams), an important component for the body, which is decidedly absent in any cola drink.

It is thanks to the venerable cola drink that we have this quaint bottle-shaped candy, but there may be some minor advantages to consuming it in gummi form.  In the end, it’s probably better to have neither.

I was quite impressed!  I invite you to check out this jaunty fusion of electronica and big band music with a visual backdrop of antiquarian movie dancing scenes – “Chambermaid Swing”:

YouTube Direktvideo link

That is the official music video, and is shortened from the actual album track, which goes to an on-going dynamic build-up for nearly five minutes (also available on YouTube here, but is not a music video).  Parov Stelar, a musician who comes out of northern Austria, has been around since 2001.  Eight years in, I do hope this isn’t another one of those occasions where I’ve heard of something a long time after everyone else I know has, as I did notice that a search term in Google with this band gets 433,000 hits.

Anyway, it’s nice to discover that I am not actually that stodgy, and that there are still occasional gems in newer music!