Monday, December 17, 2012

Oh the Commotion of Seeing a Certain Celeb on TV

OK, I don't really follow celebs that much, and am overusing the term in the posting title. I loosely follow a pop singer called JAR for now; I have a couple of albums from the last 15 years, seen her web site a few years ago, nothing too devoted. I have seen her twice in concert three years when she came to Victoria in the 1990's, and she is a hoot in her between song chat. She came out with a memoir a year ago, but as it was $30 I thought I would pick it up in year or so at a discount. Nothing too obsessive as far as I can tell.

I was kicking around all day in Kelowna Dec. 11 until the early evening flight to Victoria where I am for a few weeks. I went to a used book and CD store and "found", per scripted/arranged life imposition/relentless abuse, JAR's above mentioned memoir for $5 and bought it. I read half of it at the airport while waiting there, starting in the middle which was perverse for me, but I understand there is remote influencing going on so I don't worry too much about it. Though to be fair, I often read books from the back chapters, though rarely biographies and memoirs because it is a linear sequence. I finished the book the next day, going back to the begining and re-read the latter half again, and have put it down since. I also looked over the pictures in the book, when she was very small from one year, as toddler, and on up to teen years and to her 30's would be my estimate. As the interest in this performer has been piqued, I also listen to some samples on my mother's iPad which took a few days to get going due to her arranged dithering over passwords. Then one mention of JAR by me when chatting with my farmworker colleague/shill a few nights ago, as mentioned in the last posting.

Then tonight, a regular Sunday when I would regularly visit the First Feral Family house each week for the last nine years or so. I watch the dreamy blonde deliver the local news, and then 60 Minutes. Scott Pelley introduces the show segments and to say that it is a specially shortened version tonight, some 38 minutes long. The ads suggest a special version of Survivor or something like it, and as I don't follow these elimination shows much, I thought it was a highly irregular reason not to have 60 Minutes as a full-hour show. Sure enough, 60 Minutes ends about the time I return from the bathroom after an unusually timed forced pee missing the last minute or so of Leslie Stahl's piece on the Costa Concordia wreck in Tuscany. Then a local fill-in show follows the shortened 60 Minutes, which is total BS as why didn't CBS start their next show if it was that important? I putz around on the remote to find that JAR is on a local channel, on a documentary with a local channel. Then my mother puts on some ditzy talk while the show comes on, I explain that it is filling in the time to the hour, then she can watch what she wants.

Then the phone rings and she answers it and it is my brother from Kamloops where I am to drive my mother to for Christmas. Road conditions are uncertain in this region; snow and mountain passes for sure, and my mother has been going on and on about possible new winter tires and to relieve this constant BS-blather  I had earlier looked up what the highway warnings say, "good winter tires" to find out if that means the snow rated tires. It doesn't, and as she has recent M+S (mud and snow) rated tires, her vehicle is fine. So while watching the JAR documentary for some five to eight minutes and getting to see her close up and some 10 to 12 years later, she is fatter and older (less cute) to be sure, (from chubby when I caught her acts in the 1990's). JAR is your everyday unpretentious person, (hence some attraction to me) and reasonably talented performer, and as I learned she had sold out Massey Hall in Toronto four nights in a row and was having a successful year even though her performance anxieties are still very much part of her life after nearly 20 years of performing in public.

Then as I was getting into this documentary and listening to her recount her recent perspectives, I get called to the phone over this freaking tire nonsense again, my mother starting off saying we needed snow tires (one level of snow performance higher than M+S, but not required). I spoke with my brother as he was hepped up about having snow tires (and note, which he does not own himself for all the times he has driven these same mountain passes in the winter). I told him that M+S tires were all that were needed if there was a public statement for "winter tires". And he goes "oh". Like WTF; here he was totally gaming me over some BS over tire type, which he himself does not feel he needs, all to get me on the phone to jerk me from watching the JAR documentary and having some fan-time with her (by way of TV). Then the conversation continued for other things that were more substantive but not new, ending any chance to get back to watching the remaining JAR doc. (Only would of seen for 20 minutes anyhow before the hour was up). So there is at least two things going on as part of the above detailed First Feral Family interventions, machinations and orchestrations at the behest of the Abuser General of The Fourth Reich (Mind Fuck & Life Abuse Division).

One, the heightened recent interest in JAR; memoir read twice last week, three music samples, a conversational mention and today, a documentary (for at most, 20 minutes as "for some reason" 60 Minutes curtailed their show for no apparent reason causing me to switch channels in mid-hour this to occur). So what was that all about, and how many more of these arranged public performer/celeb interest build-ups am I going to go through with other performers, mostly musicians? And by the way, this theme of public performer interest isn't new, just that this was more concerted so to speak.

An example of public performer being visible was a few years ago with Bob Dylan, recluse extraordinaire, interviewed on 60 Minutes (of all places, given his long-running dismissal of mainstream media). Yes, I was a fan of his into the mid-1970's, Blood on the Tracks, and then wandered onto other performers who would of been singing something more intelligible at the time. I haven't bought a more recent Dylan album since, though don't take that as a criticism, and he has been through many artistic iterations and one can never count him out. And so, somehow my mother was fussed about Bob Dylan for some reason during this 60 Minutes piece (four years ago?), knew who he was for crissakes, and had some relevant commentary on him. Like WTF; where did that all come from as at no time did I have a Dylan album here at the FFF house as all my Dylan fandom took place when living in Vancouver and attending UBC. And at no time did any of my brothers have an interest and had his albums and as my mother is totally clueless about current culture, then and now, how did she know who he was and that he was a once-fave of mine? Go figure. Obviously, the 60 Minutes Dylan exposition had very little of the associated build-up to JAR mentioned above.

Back to the above FFF ructions over getting me off the couch and having some fan-time with JAR via a documentary on TV that was rudely interrupted for no substantive informational purpose. many TI's and long-time readers will know that the telephone, an electronic device with speaker and microphone, serves as some kind of instrument to have EMF signals at one's head, and all the more so when timed as conspicuous interventions at favorite perp interruption moments. That conventional EMF signals are routinely arranged around me in a tightly scripted and split-second choreography at certain cognitive functions hasn't gone unnoticed all these ten years of extra-conventional abuse. I suppose the phone in the above JAR build-up sequence, represents the final stage of disrupting or or applying EMF signals to the head which then might of been purposely interacting with my just-interupted "glow" (aka, decaying quantum (?) brain waves) from having seen JAR on the TV (video presentation, over and above prior book, pics, songs and an single conversational mention). And another forced piss after being on the phone, not forgetting one a few minutes beforehand. The perps can go fuck themselves and all this elaborate and relentless inanity. I don't expect this to end anytime soon, as the First Abusee of the fully abetting First Feral Family.

Another notion I want to air about the above gaming stunt and calling me to the phone to miss the show on TV I was watching. Why am I constantly getting dumb-fuck conversation stunts? My mother, by virtue of age, has earned herself the hard of hearing and ditthering dipshit excuse, but so many people, (brother on the phone in above story) are pulling this on me. The ex was another who had variable verbal skills, from skewering me to dumbshitting me, and Ms. C of the story (2000 to 2003) was another one who would pull this game, even if she was quite intelligent.

And I am still going on about the above? What is it about automobile tires, and all their configurations and tread types, that this constant stream of stupid dumbshit games continues as it did above? About four weeks ago my former landlady was also complaining about her snow tires weren't holding the road when other vehicles were passing her on wet pavement with puddled water (lumpy highway). Shouldn't of happened I told her then, and at lunch break I checked her tires and they were fine and mounted correctly (unidirectional tires nowadays). I then looked them up online and they were reasonably rated, though not top rated, but no one was having aquaplaning problems like she did. After lunch I mentioned my limited research to her but she didn't seem too interested in pursuing the problem and she never got replacement snow tires. It all seemed about having me go look at the tires, (two weeks after they were removed from their storage location in the nearby backyard shed, unbagged (plastic bags) and mounted), and look them up online, mention them later and then perp imperative of gaming me over automobile tires was done.

She was understandably fussy about tires after going off the road last year, ending upside down, and got a set of snow tires on rims in addition to a replacement SUV (4 wheel drive) with M+S tires as standard. I just don't get it; all this stupid gaming me, along with the inevitable disjunct or sudden cessation of conversational discourse, and for no apparent genuine informational exchange or interest.

I shall post this one now, Sunday night, now early Monday, having gotten this one over with.

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