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Éric has had an eclectic career which ranges from casino dealer to canal boat captain to radio station DJ. Since 2009, he’s worked as a desktop publisher for the federal government. During his off time, he works as a freelance typesetter for various Canadian-based authors and publishers, roasts gourmet flavoured coffee, runs several pen-and-paper role-playing games, writes, and helps run JenEric-Designs.ca (Home of the TravellingTARDIS.com).
He lives in Ottawa, Ontario with his author wife, daughter, and son.
It seems that there are only two opinions about this show, Love and Hate. I never read the books that the show is based on, Charlaine Harris’s Dead Until Dark. I also wasn’t a huge fan of Ball’s previous show, Six Feet Under. It was ok but not enough to get my attention; all this to say that I had very little expectations going into the pilot episode.
*Warning Spoilers*
Here I stand; she holds my hand.
The smell of wet earth fills my nostrils, and the late summer sun warms my face. The wind blows foretelling a storm.
Everyone is here but you. No one knows what to say but they all look beautiful. Suits, dresses, nice shoes, and colourful ties contrast the grey, green, and brown.
Read more at The Creative Act: http://thecreativeact.wordpress.com/2008/09/18/bye-mom/
Many who work in the industry mock it. Many who study it have decided it is a square vortex of evil. Many more believe it is a vacuous waste of time and energy.
By no means, is television popularly considered art, culturally enriching, or even good; yet millions of people watch television everyday. I’ve met people who blushed and were embarrassed at the fact that they watched television at all. It’s a choice and I can see why people would make it. My favourite line goes something like this, “I don’t watch television. It has nothing but mindless drivel.”
There’s nothing more awkward then asking someone what they think of a television show, or even a movie, and getting a disdainful look followed by an assertion that they only watch art house films. I do my best to assume that these people have chosen a lifestyle and opinion of popular culture that I do not understand.
The more adamant a person is about the evil of television the more likely I am to believe they watch Survivor.
I am a pop culture junkie. I do not aspire to write like Anton Chekhov, Leo Tolstoy, or even T.S. Elliot. They’re good at what they do but my interest lie with, Ray Bradbury, Roger Zelazny, Edgar Allan Poe, Stephen King, or Terry Pratchet.
I believe a good piece writing, be it theatre, television, novel, comic, or movie, (I’m sure I left something out.) should have two levels. The first being a story people can associate with while being entertained and second being something to challenge their minds. A great piece of writing should have three, the third being something that challenges their way of thinking.
That way if someone wants, they can partake in the art form and only pay attention to the first layer, therefore being entertained. You can read most of the Narnia series by C.S. Lewis and truly believe it is nothing but a pretty children’s story or you can choose to think about it more deeply and see the religious subtext.
What I’m saying, in short, is that despite our society’s oxy-moronic obsession with openly hating television, it is ok to admit you like it. There is nothing wrong with watching television.
My Name is Éric and I am Canadian… Watch Television.
Stay tuned for my TV Show revues.
As I sit in front of my glowing screen, my mind wanders. The small insignificant sounds of an office are overshadowed by the fantasy world my mind has escaped too. I keep working but I am not truly here. The running water of a tap becomes a spring somewhere in the distance. The bright florescent lights become a tireless and cruel sun. The soft padded chair is now a horse, sounds of my typing its hooves.
My insides tremble at the thought of ever-looming adventure. My heart jumps at the thought of riding into battle. Narnia, Midle Earth, Pern, or Eberron, they all call to me and in the doldrums hours between arriving and leaving I answer. I do not waste time, I invest it. I do not dream, I travel! I do not imagine, I create! And at the end of the day, I am no more or less sane then before.
My cubicle is not my jail cell; it is the repository for my body.
Aspiring Something?
I like to think of myself as a romantic fool. A Nostalgic Dreamer. I almost used that as the blogs name but it didn’t represent the goal. The goal is to upload my creative activities. I aspire to, many things and I’d like to think that in some cases I actually succeed.
So welcome and here’s one of my favourite photos for the moment:
A.S.
Previously Posted at my Livejournal. Written for my great aunt that died around that time.
Ode to J—
Poetry