Coffee RAGE!

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If you live in Canada or the US and you watch network television, you’ve probably seen this commercial or similar ones.

Why this makes me angry

I like coffee. I drink it with sugar and cream and that’s ok.

It makes me angry when someone believes that there is only one right way to do anything, especially when it involves food or drink.

I just want to grab them by the judgmental collar and yell. ARGGG!

The theory behind the commercial isn’t new, it’s playing on the feeling that coffee is no longer pure. It’s the same sort of sentiment you see in #Gamergate, #womanruinsciencefiction and #fakegeekgirl. It’s a feeling that you aren’t special anymore because other people like something.

It’s the stupidest reaction but common. Just because you can buy a Latte, Cappuccino, Espresso, etc; doesn’t mean you’re black coffee tastes any worse.

Coffee beans are an ingredient. Are you going to go yell at the French for making croissants because the only bread flour should be used for is white bread? No. If we can use an ingredient in a new way, that’s great, variety is awesome.

“We went back to the source.” I highly doubt they went to Ethiopia and asked the original farmers how they have their coffee.

Have some coffee knowledge:

Click on the image for the rest of the 15 Coffee facts at theOatmeal.com
Click on the image for the rest of the 15 Coffee facts at theOatmeal.com

Advertising Failure?

Now if you’ve tasted Nabob coffee you have your own opinions on it. On average I find it’s a step above battery acid. But that’s not important apparently.

In advertising, brand, name, and recognition are what you’re selling.

All this commercial does is reinforce the belief that brewed coffee is the best kind of coffee. Not that Nabob coffee is the best. The commercial is obviously trying to say that you should brew their coffee instead of buying a 5 dollar Starbucks drink. I think this is a mistake. I think they’re selling fear of change.

This commercial makes me so angry I rant at the TV every time I see it. My wife could probably repeat word for word my rage rants. But I had to spend fifteen minutes searching for the commercial because I couldn’t remember the brand. To me that’s failure.

Sure it’s memorable but only the content not the brand.

Is this really worth a 500+ word rant?

YES!

This commercial is a sign of what is currently most wrong with western society. Fear of change.

We live in a paradoxical time where new and amazing technology is being developed faster than we can keep up, but we are paralyzed in fear of that same technology. Technology and media is redefining our everyday lives in amazing and beautiful ways. We have instant access to the complete collection of human knowledge and we can communicate with each other instantly from anywhere, heck we can control a robot that’s on another fracking planet.

It’s time to stop being upset and sad that things aren’t the way they were. It’s one thing for an 80 year old to talk at length about the good old times but I’ve been hearing more and more 20 year olds decrying the death of society and how things were better in the past. (Yes I’m looking at you Pluto deniers.)

Things change… Get over it!

Nostalgia is a nice place to visit but don’t live there.

 

What’s your favourite nostalgic memory of “The Good Old days”?

Eric

April Laramey

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I (Jen) had the great pleasure of meeting the author April Laramey (Facebook, Twitter) this weekend, which reminded me that I had yet to post her picture with the TARDIS, taken at this year’s Can-Con. April also contributes to Capital Geek Girls and Apt 613, great sources of information around Ottawa.

Michael Rooker series

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“Am I allowed to get my picture taken?”
DSC00959small“I’m not allowed to pose for pictures. But just keep clicking, sweetheart.”
DSC00960small“This is rather cool. Did you make it?”
DSC00961small*Commence internal freak out*
DSC00962small*Almost died of heart attack*
DSC00963smallMichael Rooker (link to his Twitter) was super sweet when I walked up to his table at the end of the day on Sunday. There was no line, and I wasn’t buying an autograph. I asked him if he was scared of the zombies in Walking Dead, and he said “No, because I know they’re not real.” Then I asked for a photo, and got this rather interesting set of pictures. The TARDIS fluffed up again nicely after being squished. And he called me “Sweetheart”. I was blushing rather furiously after that one.

Happy Halloween!

The Ridiculous Adventures of Felix Felicis – Part Five

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Mister Felicis. Did you think getting rid of the scar on your face would be enough to fool me?” It must have been a rhetorical question because the oversized gangster continued to mumble at them, “I am greatly disappointed in the manner you chose to repay our friendship.”

“I’m not sure wh…” Felix tried to say but the other man cut him off.

“I don’t want to hear your honeyed excuses. Give me the diamond and I’ll spare your little girlfriend’s life.”

Again Felix was going to try and defend himself, but Miss Eris put her hand on his shoulder.

“I am sorry for the inconvenience we will cause you in the past sir. Was there something special about this diamond?” Miss Eris sounded calm and logical, something that soothed Felix’s frayed nerves. That was as long as he didn’t pay any attention to what she was saying.

It had been a bad birthday for Felix and he felt almost ready to give up. His apartment had been blown up, his family harassed by dinosaurs and a cyborg ape, and now he was lost in time being interrogated by mobsters. At least it couldn’t get any worse he thought.

“You have strained my patience and I believe it’s time to make an example of you,” The large man waved a sausage fingered hand and the goons pointed their guns menacingly.

“Wait, Wait,” Felix was about ready to give in and ask them to shoot him when he had an idea. “What does this diamond look like?”

Miss Eris and the mob boss looked at him as if he’d gone completely insane.

“It was the size of my fist and left to me from my grandmother. Perfect in every way,” The man replied.

“Your grandmother was perfect?” Felix asked incredulously.

“No, the diamond, you fool,” the man gestured to the goons and said, “shoot them already.”

Miss Eris grabbed his hand as the men opened fire and he felt a hot flash of pain on his face.

Once again the world went fuzzy and changed views quickly. He put his hand up to his face and it was bleeding a little. “They shot me. I’ve been shot.”

“It appears that way.” Miss Eris pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at the wound. She pulled a little piece of paper and rubbed it on his face. It stung but stopped the pain. “This explains the scar.”

Someone cleared their throat. They were standing in the middle of a field between two armies. The armies were dressed in leather armour, one side held a banner of a dragon and the other of a snake. Standing beside them with weapons draw were two men who could be father and son.

The two men started yelling at them angrily in a language he didn’t recognize. “What are they saying?” he asked Miss Eris.

“I think they’re speaking Welsh,” she replied.

“and?” he asked

“I don’t speak Welsh.”

“Don’t you have a universal translator? Or something.” The two men were looking angry and had turned to point their rather nasty looking swords at them.

“Maybe we should leave.” he suggested.

“I think that might be prudent.”

Again the world went blurry, his stomach turned, and they were somewhere else.

“Ah you have arrived,” said a man with an Italian accent. His long white beard and intelligent eyes were instantly recognizable.

“Leonardo da Vinci?” Exclaimed Felix.

“Yes it is me. Do you have the diamond?” da Vinci wasn’t wearing traditional clothing, instead he wore what looked like a flight suit.

The floor shook and Felix took a few extra minutes to savour the confusion that had become his life before he accepted that they were no longer on earth but in some sort of space craft.

“No,” Felix said lamely.

Putting his hand on a button on the consol, da Vinci said, “Al, they’ve arrived but they don’t have the diamond. We need more time. Tell Tesla to stop showboating and start taking this seriously we need more time.” Turning to them he said, “I’m kinda busy right now. How about you go get that diamond and we can save humanity from the Sauren threat?”

Miss Eris grabbed his hand again and they shifted in time and space leaving behind da Vinci to continue the space dogfight.

Read Part 6

InnerSpace

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DSC00880smallDSC00879smallMeeting all three of the hosts of InnerSpace was an amazing experience. I was so excited that I had a hard time stringing words together to make a coherent sentence, which was a problem because they asked me about the TARDIS, my K-9 hair clip, and about my Karen Hallion t-shirt. I didn’t get a chance to tell them how much I enjoy watching their show!

The Haunted Walk – A Review

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A little over a month ago I won a facebook contest that got be two tickets to The Haunted Walk Ottawa. My wife and I had the chance to go with some friends this past weekend. Other than the free tickets, I have no association the Haunted walk.

I made the mistake of assuming that my friends would want the 8pm tour and when I found out they wanted the 8:45 I’d already booked the 8. I thought it might be a hassle to fix the tickets but a quick call and they fixed my mistake. No trouble at all.

“Haunted Walks Inc. was founded in 1995, and offers a variety of unique historical walking tours in Kingston, Ottawa and Toronto, Ontario. We are best known for our evening tours of local ghost stories and darker history. These tours take place when the lights are low and the atmosphere is just right for a good ghost story.  You may recognize our Tour Guides who wear cloaks and carry a lantern as they lead their groups through the quiet city streets.” The Haunted Walk Website

We got there fifteen minutes early and it was a beautiful night. Cool but not cold, the smell of fall all around us. It couldn’t have been nicer weather if we’d been in a movie. We waited until the tour guides called us. The area was crowded due to it being the weekend, the events of last Wednesday, and Poutinefest on sparks. Other than the smokers, the wait wasn’t bad.

There were two tours leaving at the same time. We took the Classic tour which went down to the locks and the Bytown museum.

The guide, Paul I believe, was a perfect combination of wry humour and informative. It shows that the tour has worked on their stories, they are good ghost stories, the kind you’d read under the covers with your flashlight. The guide was friendly, professional, and appropriate at all times. The stories weren’t gory and were mixed between sad, scary, touching, interesting, and just fun. The tour would definitely be appropriate for children who like ghost stories.

At one point a breeze (or Ghost) slammed a door while he was speaking and scared everyone. It was one of those perfect moments for a haunted tour.

Overall I loved it and would do it again. I would however caution that it is a walking tour and lasts around 90 minutes. It’s mostly standing and walking which can be problematic for anyone with injuries or chronic back problems.

I highly recommend going and I plan on checking out their Time Travel themed tours that restart after the Halloween season.

Éric

Morgan Hoffman

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This year, at Fan Expo, I was able to get a photo of the talented (and gorgeous) Morgan Hoffman (follow her on Facebook here and Twitter here) with the TARDIS. I now have all three Inner Space hosts (Teddy and Ajay can be found in last year’s pictures). I love watching their show because they ask such intelligent questions, and talk about stuff I love. 😀

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The Ottawa Shooting

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Yesterday I was one of the quarter million people working in downtown Ottawa who were put in lockdown after the shooting. I wasn’t in danger, I saw nothing, and all my news came from internal emails and social media.

I’ve made Ottawa my home for the past twelve years and I’ve always felt safe. Even when I lived in the less savory areas, I still felt safe. Yesterday for the first time in twelve years that feeling of safety was shattered.

The thoughts that passed through my mind were so stereotypical it almost hurt. “But this is Canada?” or “How could this happen here?”

Being in a situation like this made me think of, and appreciate, the writing of John Windhelm. You’ve most likely read one of his books in high school. He was a science fiction author who worked for the Ministry of Information during the Second World War. In a lot of his books he deals with disasters and the way he does that is by giving snippets of information from news sources or from word of mouth. Never explaining anything as the narrator. The style makes the reader feel the same way as the characters, unsure and wanting more information. He does is so wonderfully that I felt that I could be in one of his novels yesterday.

Everyone has coping mechanisms for trauma. When I was in early high school, my brother and I played catch and I tried to be fancy and jump for a ball. The ball bounced off my glove and hit me in the face. My K9 tooth pierced the inside of my lip and boy did it bleed.

On the way to the hospital he made jokes. It wasn’t mean but his way of dealing with the situation. I needed five stiches in my lip and still have the scar today.

My brother is someone you want to be around in an emergency, he’s a smartass but he’s calm and always seems to know what to do.

I have three ways of dealing with emergencies, when there are other people around. The first is to help, the second is to joke, and the third is to cook. When I say help, I mean I’ll help you whether you want it or not.

When I’m alone I like to write, and yesterday I couldn’t. All I kept thinking was, “If I could write the perfect sentence, I could make everything better.” There’s no such sentence, not for those who lost someone, and not for those who can’t help but see Ottawa differently.

The theme of this morning seems to bet Ottawa Strong, or Don’t change Canada. It’s a lovely sentiment but it’s just that a sentiment. The truth is that Ottawa has changed, these events have proved that Ottawa isn’t immune to these kinds of attacks.

If I can climb on my soapbox for a little I’d like to address my fellow Canadians. What happened was a tragedy and an affront to what we, as Canadians, hold dear. It is not however a license to judge, persecute, or attack anyone based on their race, religion, or skin colour. Don’t let this tragedy provoke hate.

Thank you,

Éric