Thursday, April 23, 2009
Donnie Darko = fuckin awesome movie!!!/ Go to hell Mark.
Id like to share with you my favourite movie. Donnie Darko. Mark says it sucks but he does. He makes no sense and is an asshole. Also smells. very bad. He just doesnt like it cause he does not know what the plot is about. Because he is not capable of figuring it out. This movie makes alot of sense if you are not Mark. It has a good story and is very interesting. I can relate to it to because of donnie and his personality. I think it is a good movie and develops each charater in the film. Go to hell mark and google the meaning if you cannot figure it out.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
My musical mission.
Im obviously Beau and that is whats good. I am in the process of starting a production company with my best friend amanda. Me and her are in a band together called ... Communication Breakdown . We are promoting a show at club on queen in Brampton. It will be the first all ages concert held at the club. So far i have booked the rock ons, my own band and, definately maybe. It is alot of work getting all of the contacts for putting on a sucessful event. I have put on many shows and events at the hype but is harder now cause im dealing with a new owner and many bands. on top of that i have to advertise and plan the event so it goes smoothly. I love local music because it is the underground scene i loved for so many years. Amanda and I will bring it back single handedly because we can and have the means to do so for our friends enjoyment. I will have more on the event in a few days and will post details for all those interested in attending.
The HYPE.
A sense of place
By: Beau Bisson
The place I chose is the hype on Queen Street. The hype was an old rundown bar that put on all ages shows, and provided a venue for local bands to debut their music. Another reason why the hype was famous in Brampton is because it gave teens a place to get drunk and high…..Kids were so in the mix when hype was putting on shows. I think it was Brampton’s pulse in the music scene. The building itself wasn’t much to look at and was often raided by police cause of all the rowdy teens and underage drinking. There were two main groups at hype the metal heads and the scene kids both argued and fought constantly. The least noticed group was the small clan of hippy kids wandering round in grateful dead tie dye shirts. Security was tough but cool because they were friendly and interesting to talk about also they kicked out a lot of drug dealers and people who were starting shit. The parking lot was a gong show with all the high/drunk teens. There was nothing like it every band who came from far away was shocked to see every kid in the audience was completely fucked out of there mind. To sum it up the hype was a riot when it was in its prime, Brampton had a music scene, and teenagers had a place to chill and listen to music on a Saturday night. I met a ton of cool people and love them all like family.
The hype was the highlight of everyone’s week for 3 years and now it’s gone but we went out with a bang. If I feel lost and sad I look back on what I was apart of and see how much I learned and where I first fell in love. I don’t regret anything I just wouldn’t have learned with out doing it myself, because I’m young and dumb and looking for fun. And someone to join me on my adventures. Some of the places I remember at hype were the grassy knoll, the stupid tree, the forest of no return, and the V.I.P section which fittingly stands for the very intoxicated person section. I love my past and want to always remember who I was and what I still am today.
The hype was an alternate reality for us B-town kids. It was the most unreal thing because we were so young and innocent but at the same time we were seeing life as a party and we were always invited. It was always cool to see my friends play a show or have my band headlining a show. At one point I was actually employed as a photographer and camera man for a production company called panda city. My job consisted of me filming shows and taking pictures for the website and magazine. Even though the hype is now closed and abandoned it will always be loved by those who hung out there and made friends.
I think Brampton should open up a venue for shows. Our music scene has died here in the city but with some work and funding we can revive it back to what it was in the beginning, after the hype closed many bands just left Brampton or just quit all together leaving us without a soundtrack to the weekend. Without music life is not worth living music can make emotions seem so powerful and make you feel things that you just cant without it. R.I.P hype, B-town music scene, local bands, and a creative out let. I will make it known that our city is in need of a place where teens our accepted and safe to chill.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
la la la la la la la la la la la abuh? la la la la.
Hola today is wednesday. Im obviously at school. very bored and excited for later cause i am going to have band practice. my band is called communication breakdown we pwn at life. we so far have written multiple songs. i am too lazy to make a myspace or fagbook for the band so i will just use this site to post songs and what not. I can play many instruments so i can trick people into listening to my views through my music it is a easy forum to express my teen angst. also today in auto shop i got really really really really really bored so i made a belt using the seat belt from a car it is very usueful for it can hold up my pants =] my auto shop teacher laughed and said good job i was like yup yup. and then i came to media ^_^I am quite good at making random stuff that is kool and or awesome. well I am Beau. Meaning Beau is amazing and totally prolife at everything.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The Art Of Drowning
I wonder how it all got started, this businessabout seeing your life flash before your eyeswhile you drown, as if panic, or the act of submergence,could startle time into such compression, crushingdecades in the vice of your desperate, final seconds.After falling off a steamship or being swept awayin a rush of floodwaters, wouldn't you hopefor a more leisurely review, an invisible handturning the pages of an album of photographs-you up on a pony or blowing out candles in a conic hat.How about a short animated film, a slide presentation?Your life expressed in an essay, or in one model photograph?Wouldn't any form be better than this sudden flash?Your whole existence going off in your facein an eyebrow-singeing explosion of biography-nothing like the three large volumes you envisioned.Survivors would have us believe in a brilliancehere, some bolt of truth forking across the water,an ultimate Light before all the lights go out,dawning on you with all its megalithic tonnage.But if something does flash before your eyesas you go under, it will probably be a fish,a quick blur of curved silver darting away,having nothing to do with your life or your death.The tide will take you, or the lake will accept it allas you sink toward the weedy disarray of the bottom,leaving behind what you have already forgotten,the surface, now overrun with the high travel of clouds.
letter i found online.
To the man and woman who chose to conceive a child, the result of which was me, when it fit in with their five year plan;
To the teachers who never really cared, no matter what they say;
To my fellow geeks, dweebs, et. al., who will no doubt receive more abuse upon my passing, as my tormentors will no longer have me to kick around;
To my fellow students who made my life a living nightmare when they should have focused on their education;To those who never cared, never spoke, probably never knew my name;
To the one true friend, whose caring was the only thing that prevented this even from happening sooner;
To the God, if he does exist, who chose to play a cruel, cruel joke on me when he placed me where he did and surrounded me with so many uncaring faces;
To all of you, goodbye.
I am leaving a world to which I never truly belonged or fit in. Do not weep for me, or mourn my passing. I say this not because I expect to be missed, but to allow those who truly did not care go on with their lives with a clean conscience and dry eyes. I know you don't want to weep for me. So don't. But I do ask you to listen to the final words of a young man who has taken charge of his own destiny.
Perhaps my parents might feel something inside which causes them to shed tears. They may pretend that it's sorrow for their "loss", but I hope it is something else. Perhaps sorrow for bringing a child into this world when they really didn't have the time or desire to raise him. I wasn't the product of love, born of a desire to prepare another human being to grow and lead the human race. I was merely the next acquisition, the next task, the next project on their list of things that bring significance.
No child should be brought into this world for the mere purpose of being just another possession. I am not an asset to be cataloged and listed on your tax forms beside your house and car, or fought over during your divorce proceedings. I am a human being. I'm sorry that it took this to make you realize that. If you don't yet get it, then I'm even sorrier.
What about my teachers? Will they be sorry to see another student become a statistic? Certainly the administration and Principal Chowning will mourn, as my death will not reflect well on them as an institution. Well, I apologize for making the statistics for your administration worse. But I don't expect an apology for the false sympathies of people like Mrs. Dunfee, and the broken promises of others like Mr. Richman.
As for my fellows students, those who made a more significant impact on my life, I know better than to expect my tormentors to mourn.
But if I’m going to address those who belittled me, I’d be remiss if I failed to include the ladies in my life. I guess that’s not entirely accurate, as the ones I refer to fall in two basic categories: those who refused to be in my life, and those who I would rather have excluded from my life. In the former category, Melinda Tunney, Jessica Silvers, and dear Kimmy Vanover, whose laughed in my face after I asked her to the homecoming dance, humiliating me in front of I don’t know how many other classmates. In the latter category are too many to mention, though I must single out Rebecca Cull and Vanessa Dietrich for their tremendous dedication to the cause of destroying any shred of self-esteem I might dare to foster. Why can’t you accept the things that make other people different rather than insisting everyone conforms to your will?
Sure, some did offer friendly gestures. Nicole Edwards often would greet me and ask about my life. Not that I ever felt comfortable enough to tell her anything; I never trusted her enough to give her the chance. What was the purpose? Did you really give a flip about the shy, quiet kid who sat behind you in 8th grade history? Or was it all about creating an illusion that you care, just to guarantee my voting for you as a class officer.
I can only conceive of one person in this world who will truly be sad at my parting. Marty, my best friend, you talked me out of this decision three times before. You even called 911 after I swallowed a bottle of pills. That is why I did not tell you anything this time, and why I do this in secret, alone. I wish you were coming with me on this great adventure, into the final frontier. Where ever I go, yours will be the one face I carry with me. The one soul I will miss. Yours is also the only forgiveness I ask and beg for as I depart from this life. I love you, and always will.
There’s another group I have not yet addressed: those not like me who left me alone. Or I should say ignored me. I appreciate your sparing me any further harassment, but your inaction, your withheld hellos and how are yous did more to hurt than any name calling. Your inaction effectively excluded me from student life, from the human race. You left me isolated and alone, and no words I could say can convey to you the suffering you caused. I could name names, but in doing so, I would do more now for you than you ever did for me in life.
I do not know if what awaits me at the end of this gun. Will there be a void? Or will I come face to face with God? I just don't care any more. If you're anything like your people, I wouldn't want to know you. You preached to love one another, yet I've felt everything except love from Christians. Even if I could know you were different, well, I still reject you. You have left your "followers" to treat people like me poorly. You have allowed so many of the people you "love", including me, to suffer. So you want me to trust you with my life? I don’t want to spend eternity with a careless deity like you, or with the company you keep.
As my final moments tick away, I wonder what impact these words will create. It depends first on this web site being found, as I doubt whether school administration will want such venom spoken publicly about their lack of caring. Still, the Internet is a remarkable place where even the least significant individual can be heard. Will anyone listen? Will anyone take action? Will students pause and pay attention to the hurting hearts around them? And even if they do, will it be a temporary salve for their egos, to convince themselves they’re really not bad people… or will real change happen?
My heart certainly goes out to my fellow outsiders. With me gone, some of you will certainly feel more of the pain and hurt that I did. No one understands you. No one cares how your day is going. No one bothers to get to know you as anything more than a nerd, a geek, a loser. You can do nothing for their social status, save the occasional boost to the ego they get from putting you in your place. Some of you, like Andy Riker, will find outlets in writing. Some, like James Moon, will have an escape in art. Some, like Sean Gilbert, will live their lives pursuing unicorns that they will never, ever catch. I never had a talent to lose myself in, or a dream or unicorn to chase, and so I have taken the path most dreaded. Some of you may soon join me, and I look forward to welcoming a brother or sister to the land where you will never suffer the loneliness and rejection that faces you now.
Farewell forever. I am going to another place. Where, I do not know. But logic dictates that it can only be an improvement. Perhaps my passing will only prove a footnote in a school yearbook. Then again, perhaps the sacrifice of one might bring hope to others. If my death makes life for one person a little more bearable, or a little more enlightened, do I really die in vain?
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one."
- Adam Krieger
To the teachers who never really cared, no matter what they say;
To my fellow geeks, dweebs, et. al., who will no doubt receive more abuse upon my passing, as my tormentors will no longer have me to kick around;
To my fellow students who made my life a living nightmare when they should have focused on their education;To those who never cared, never spoke, probably never knew my name;
To the one true friend, whose caring was the only thing that prevented this even from happening sooner;
To the God, if he does exist, who chose to play a cruel, cruel joke on me when he placed me where he did and surrounded me with so many uncaring faces;
To all of you, goodbye.
I am leaving a world to which I never truly belonged or fit in. Do not weep for me, or mourn my passing. I say this not because I expect to be missed, but to allow those who truly did not care go on with their lives with a clean conscience and dry eyes. I know you don't want to weep for me. So don't. But I do ask you to listen to the final words of a young man who has taken charge of his own destiny.
Perhaps my parents might feel something inside which causes them to shed tears. They may pretend that it's sorrow for their "loss", but I hope it is something else. Perhaps sorrow for bringing a child into this world when they really didn't have the time or desire to raise him. I wasn't the product of love, born of a desire to prepare another human being to grow and lead the human race. I was merely the next acquisition, the next task, the next project on their list of things that bring significance.
No child should be brought into this world for the mere purpose of being just another possession. I am not an asset to be cataloged and listed on your tax forms beside your house and car, or fought over during your divorce proceedings. I am a human being. I'm sorry that it took this to make you realize that. If you don't yet get it, then I'm even sorrier.
What about my teachers? Will they be sorry to see another student become a statistic? Certainly the administration and Principal Chowning will mourn, as my death will not reflect well on them as an institution. Well, I apologize for making the statistics for your administration worse. But I don't expect an apology for the false sympathies of people like Mrs. Dunfee, and the broken promises of others like Mr. Richman.
As for my fellows students, those who made a more significant impact on my life, I know better than to expect my tormentors to mourn.
But if I’m going to address those who belittled me, I’d be remiss if I failed to include the ladies in my life. I guess that’s not entirely accurate, as the ones I refer to fall in two basic categories: those who refused to be in my life, and those who I would rather have excluded from my life. In the former category, Melinda Tunney, Jessica Silvers, and dear Kimmy Vanover, whose laughed in my face after I asked her to the homecoming dance, humiliating me in front of I don’t know how many other classmates. In the latter category are too many to mention, though I must single out Rebecca Cull and Vanessa Dietrich for their tremendous dedication to the cause of destroying any shred of self-esteem I might dare to foster. Why can’t you accept the things that make other people different rather than insisting everyone conforms to your will?
Sure, some did offer friendly gestures. Nicole Edwards often would greet me and ask about my life. Not that I ever felt comfortable enough to tell her anything; I never trusted her enough to give her the chance. What was the purpose? Did you really give a flip about the shy, quiet kid who sat behind you in 8th grade history? Or was it all about creating an illusion that you care, just to guarantee my voting for you as a class officer.
I can only conceive of one person in this world who will truly be sad at my parting. Marty, my best friend, you talked me out of this decision three times before. You even called 911 after I swallowed a bottle of pills. That is why I did not tell you anything this time, and why I do this in secret, alone. I wish you were coming with me on this great adventure, into the final frontier. Where ever I go, yours will be the one face I carry with me. The one soul I will miss. Yours is also the only forgiveness I ask and beg for as I depart from this life. I love you, and always will.
There’s another group I have not yet addressed: those not like me who left me alone. Or I should say ignored me. I appreciate your sparing me any further harassment, but your inaction, your withheld hellos and how are yous did more to hurt than any name calling. Your inaction effectively excluded me from student life, from the human race. You left me isolated and alone, and no words I could say can convey to you the suffering you caused. I could name names, but in doing so, I would do more now for you than you ever did for me in life.
I do not know if what awaits me at the end of this gun. Will there be a void? Or will I come face to face with God? I just don't care any more. If you're anything like your people, I wouldn't want to know you. You preached to love one another, yet I've felt everything except love from Christians. Even if I could know you were different, well, I still reject you. You have left your "followers" to treat people like me poorly. You have allowed so many of the people you "love", including me, to suffer. So you want me to trust you with my life? I don’t want to spend eternity with a careless deity like you, or with the company you keep.
As my final moments tick away, I wonder what impact these words will create. It depends first on this web site being found, as I doubt whether school administration will want such venom spoken publicly about their lack of caring. Still, the Internet is a remarkable place where even the least significant individual can be heard. Will anyone listen? Will anyone take action? Will students pause and pay attention to the hurting hearts around them? And even if they do, will it be a temporary salve for their egos, to convince themselves they’re really not bad people… or will real change happen?
My heart certainly goes out to my fellow outsiders. With me gone, some of you will certainly feel more of the pain and hurt that I did. No one understands you. No one cares how your day is going. No one bothers to get to know you as anything more than a nerd, a geek, a loser. You can do nothing for their social status, save the occasional boost to the ego they get from putting you in your place. Some of you, like Andy Riker, will find outlets in writing. Some, like James Moon, will have an escape in art. Some, like Sean Gilbert, will live their lives pursuing unicorns that they will never, ever catch. I never had a talent to lose myself in, or a dream or unicorn to chase, and so I have taken the path most dreaded. Some of you may soon join me, and I look forward to welcoming a brother or sister to the land where you will never suffer the loneliness and rejection that faces you now.
Farewell forever. I am going to another place. Where, I do not know. But logic dictates that it can only be an improvement. Perhaps my passing will only prove a footnote in a school yearbook. Then again, perhaps the sacrifice of one might bring hope to others. If my death makes life for one person a little more bearable, or a little more enlightened, do I really die in vain?
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one."
- Adam Krieger
Expect the Unexpected.
I'm ready to blog my azz off for media studies. in this blog and many others I will discuss the media and other random things that tickle my fancy. The media is a powerful tool allowing to post all kinds of stuff that will shock ,amuse and disgust the reader. I personally love controversial things like death ,suicide, anarchy, destruction, music, drug culture, and anything to do with the fall of man and the society which he created. I will show you what its like to see the world through my eyes.
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