like wolves. like smoke. like the rest of the fucking world.

November 08, 2010

describing destruction.

What are we without angst?
Where would we be without a desire to fight for what we want and combat the things in this world that we find wrong and terrible?
Fucking nowhere, that's where.
Pick up arms and use them to hold up your beliefs. Don't be afraid to flex them.
We all have to fight for something; stop showing your boredom.

from toronto with love;

i’ve come to realize i’m nothing
but a post-modernist
living in a post-modern heaven.
all i ever fight for,
all i ever stand up for
are causes with no cause.
i fight for the joy of rebelling
but when the movement comes,
i’ll be moving on
to the next point of social decay.

something to feed upon,
something to buy into.

we fight the battles
to seem engaged.
we consume the struggles
to seem involved.

so mundane as a society,
we look to others for hope
we look to others for conflict
while they look back
for help.
but we’re only here to capitalize,
make money off your story’s back.
our so-called art form
is nothing but a science
in exploiting fellow humans:
a capitalist necro-romance.

50 points to whoever can guess what I wrote this about.
Is anyone else as tired of my bitching as I am?
Someone point me in the direction of Asia already.

September 16, 2010

uliga onda!

There's a looming shadow, a powerful force, brewing over the orient currently. And in soon time, it will arrive on Occidental shores.
I speak not of weapons, war, conflict, nor strife. I speak of course, about K-Pop.

For about 3 months now, I have been strongly advocating Korean Pop music. As it turns out, I am not the only one. K-Pop has slowly, but surely began to gain recognition worldwide. Listeners from Europe, UK/Britain specifically, and North America alike have begun to surface on online communities in great numbers. These new faces, in addition to the already booming fan bases in Thailand, Korea, Japan and, most surprisingly, South America are beginning to show the power and numbers behind this movement.
At this point in time, K-Pop is teetering on the edge of an outburst. An event that has surely helped this recent spike of interest is the SMTOWN Live '10 World Tour, that struck the Los Angeles Staples Centre this past September 4th. SMTOWN was an event put on in cooperation by SMentertainment (one of the leading artist management agencies in Asia), AEG Live and POWERHOUSE. SMTOWN brought leading K-Pop artists like SHINee, f(x), So Nyuh Shi Dae (Girls' Generation) and many more to the American Pop industry's front step. But this world tour event is but one of the contributing factors to this near explosive augment of fans. Another reason K-Pop has been receiving much attention in the recent past can be explained by Will.I.Am. The rapper, producer, whatever-else-he-is, recently (like many other North Americans) stumbled upon the K-Pop group 2NE1. 2NE1 is a South Korean group managed by YG entertainment. They have been releasing singles consistently over the past 6 months in preparation of their next album drop. Will.I.Am caught wind of one of their music videos and immediately posted a video response to Twitter, saying he would like to work with them and provide them beats. This merger, that according to Will.I.Am's video may be seen as early as April, would result in an absolute frenzy of attention directed at 2NE1 and the K-Pop industry itself.
So start building your bomb shelter if you're an intolerant prick, because if all goes as planned, there will be a new minority for the majority to idolize. And I for one, can't wait.

EDIT: Just mere minutes after having posted this piece, I was informed that 2NE1's 2009 album: "To Anyone" is currently seated in the #2 spot on iTunes US Hip-Hop album chart. 2ne1 second only to Eminem's latest album "Recovery" and is currently above classic hip-hop artists Beastie Boys and Jay-Z. The revolution is nigh, my friends. Brace for impact.
Link for the non-believers:


September 02, 2010

one last kick at the can.

I just received an email from Myspace. You remember them, don't you?
That site that we all used to use in grade 9?..Profiles and music?..Silly layouts and graphics?
Well as it turns out, Myspace is currently dead in the water, struggling for air, and is about to get blasted right out of the fucking lake we call the internet.

Now, unless you're living in some internet deprived, desolate third world country, odds are you haven't even considered visiting your Myspace profile since the arrival of the social networking messiah we call Facebook (and who can blame you.) But before we let Myspace get absolutely annihilated by the upcoming "Ping" — a social networking device that couples iTunes with Twitter in order to create some sort of lovechild — I figure we should all pay our Myspace profiles a well deserved visit. Spruce them up a little, update your default one last time, maybe even change the song that plays when your profile opens up. Just a little gesture to help them cope with the massive changes that are about to come.

Frankly, I don't blame the people at Myspace for launching this recent clusterfuck of updates. If anything, they're only following human nature and instincts. Tom and the gang at Myspace HQ are grasping for life, letting out one final fantasy in order to perhaps steal the hearts of internet users just before they're abolished forever. This act is something we can all relate to. When we're in a dire situation, a rough spot, or simply about to get fucked over, we as humans will do anything in our capability to save our asses. These dying acts don't always seem heroic though. Rather, they tend to have a sense of desperate urgency and hollowness that simply waters down any true or valiant effort put into the action. These grasps for life show nothing but weakness in our character. If Myspace wanted to die with it's dignity, it would just lay back and let the tide take it's body, rather than fighting for life and selling it's soul to the competitors. These boys are going to eat you alive, Tom. Just collect your earnings and leave the table. No struggle means no loss.


August 10, 2010


I spend my days trying to compose something interesting to share with the world. Something compelling, touching, heartwarming; hysterical. I've discovered I'm an artisan who's skilled at drawing blanks. And I'm here to showcase my skills:

Something about my coffee tasted different this morning. I'm not sure if it can be explained logically, or if it's just some of you, left over on my lips from last night. Either way, the change is welcomed.
I'd forgotten what it was to build a relationship. I'd forgotten how fulfilling it was to meet someone genuinely amazing, then actually get to know them; uncovering more and more about them with every moment shared, and treasuring each new found fact.
I feel like my name should be Paul. But you would call me Fred.
I'm tempted to start writing a novel, and never end up finishing it. Just a little something I can use to show the world I'm more than a newspaperman. Something to remind me I still have my dignity and that I didn't trap myself in an industry I despise.
I've decided that journalism and classic literature —or poetry— are, stylistically, polar opposites in my eyes. They're pieces from two separate puzzles, but I still find myself pawing at them, pounding them together; trying to make them mesh.
And much like these puzzle pieces, I am two different entities when I write. As far as journalism is concerned, my style is much like masturbation: routine, bland, insensitive. When I write creatively, I feel consumed. Much like I do under the influence of substances. When I write creatively, the outside world is obsolete. Conversations feel like out-of-body experiences; life is just background noise and people are but roadside scenery.
I'd ride that train forever if I could.

"Buy the ticket, take the ride"
- Dr. Hunter S. Thompson

July 27, 2010

ringed eyes with dark circles

I've run out of intelligent people to talk with, so I've taken to conversing with myself on a regular basis. And I've learned plenty;
I've found out that I'm sick of Western Civilization. I'm tired of this land, these sights; the unenthusiastic life. I've found a greener grass and it lies in Orient.
I've found out that I'm willing to drop everything for the chance to pursue this greener grass. I'm ready to find a new challenge; something exciting to replace this loathing.
I've found out I'm falling into the corporate jungle I previously despised. My previous beliefs are reigniting and my previous values are nipping me in the ass. If my younger self could see where I'm headed, he would kick my ass for falling in line.
Most importantly:
I've found out we all have to grow up;
I've found out I'm made up of nothing but pipe dreams
and they're draining my life.

somebody pick me up and drop me on the other side of the world.
i'll figure shit out when i get there.



my feet
are getting cold
from all this walking
across the ocean.

my thoughts
are getting farther
away from me;
in constant motion.

collect my beliefs.
they shattered
when they hit the floor.
retrieve my will.
it wanders with me
no more.

my boat’s leaving the dock.
but my luggage is still at shore.

get me off this vessel_.

break my legs;
let me wander
no more.


"We realize the grass may be greener on the other side.
But we've invested too much green in this grass to abandon it."

not yet at least.

yours truly,

July 11, 2010

who's next over here?

The necessity to belong.
The necessity to be accepted;
to be loved;
to be admired.
One of our most primal, simplistic needs. Yet one that can be amongst the most difficult to fulfill.
in light of this I present this new piece:

All and All

the fucking elephant
in the room.
It won't stop
staring at me.
Piecing apart my heart;
Tearing up my soul.
Let's put this beast
where it belongs.
Nail in the coffin;
Bones in the dirt.

Your suspense is killing me,
I can't stop looking back.
Untie my noose,
I'm sick of hanging around.
either let me go
embrace me.

This suspense is unwelcoming,
but I feel just at home.



June 24, 2010

you need to lighten up, man.

It has been argued that existence itself has no ultimate meaning, and rather, humans themselves have the capacity—and the need—to fulfill their lives in a "meaningful" fashion. From this I've deducted that there exists three types of people; three lifestyles; three ways that human beings fulfill their hunger for a life with meaning.
Person A is probably the most regular of the three. Person A is the kind of human that goes about living their life normally, but whose character makes up for their normality. Person A strives on popularity and attention, and a meaningful life in their eyes means being remembered; having a legacy; leaving their dirty footprint on the carpet of society.
Person B is the most powerful of the group. Person B looks upwards at all times, is optimistic in their future and forgiving in their past. A meaningful life for Person B means appeasing a god or a higher power. Person B is regularly religious and always spiritual. Person B strives on obeying; following suit; pursuing the unknown.
Person C is the coward of the three. Person C lives in fear; despair; and worry. Person C lives their life out of fear that after it's all said and done; there's nothing for them. Nihilists and realists alike can often be seen as Person C. Person C claims that a meaningful life comes with living in the moment, but it's hard to lose track of time when you're counting down.
Sit back; Ask yourself who you are (if any). What have you been living for? What will you be living for now?

I do need to lighten up.
Now, here's something you've probably never seen before.


collective, concerned
serving, waiting, depending upon
internal conflict of interest, a team of opposites
questioning, knowing, seeing
evaluative, blunt

this has been abstract at best.
more shit on the way;

June 07, 2010


I decided to add a little touch of real blog here this month, by exposing to you all my recent obsession with a South Korean pop group 4minute.
I stumbled upon (not using the browser app of the same name) this group a long while ago thanks to a friend. I forgot all about it until one slow evening in May, wherein I found myself scouring the internet —as fucking usual—and a video called 4minute-Hot Issue Live (HD) came up on the homepage. I proceeded onwards and watched this group of 5 amazingly attractive oriental girls (who I later found out were aged from 16-18, score.) perform their song and dance. It turned out to be insanely catchy and plus, it totally helped that the girls in the video were — as I said before — ridiculously attractive.
Fast forward to right now. In the past week I have: downloaded as many of their songs as I could possibly find on the information highway we call the internet, downloaded 2 of their music videos, changed my background to a picture of the group and am now writing a god damned blog about these girls. I think using the term "obsessed" has become a pretty fuckin' safe bet.
What it is about 4minute that has grasped me so strongly and refuses to let go, I'll never be positive of. But I've collected a series of hypothesises in order to try and explicate this obsession.
First off, I'm clearly attracted to the girls. Check. Secondly, I hate western Top 40 music. The most mainstream artist in my library? Lady Gaga. And she's pretty fucked up by Billboard's standards. So, in accordance with that, I've befriended this Korean Top 40 band in order to get my fill of the drab that modern Pop music is. And finally, the music is just fucking intoxicating. It feels nice to not understand the lyrics and to not be constantly judging an artist in accordance to their lyrics and intelligence. Basically, 4minute is like my getaway. My strange, fucked up, Korean girl getaway. And you should all hop on board because the ride is fucking incredible.
That's gay.
Now here's some poetry...


pass the filler.
i’m a “gimmicks”
kinda man.
at a loss
amongst struggle.
so i can understand.

you feed me.
it brings me.

consume the perishables,
perishing consumer.
amongst the vultures,
our reasoning
you’ll understand.

we feed you.
it brings you.

to the point
of a programmed
in the light
of the man.

to conceit you,
you’ve let it
defeat you.

sometimes its the parasite,
that keeps us alive.

The following is an open letter to all the kids who are still trapped in their shit hole town. Stay out of trouble, kids. You'll make it out someday.

friendly enough?

Still hanging around
godforsaken town?

_wake up_
It won’t just

All the names,
all the places.
Old friends,
old faces.
They hold
like a noose
‘round your neck.

I’ll be long
by the time
you’ve moved on.
(The scum of the earth
doesn’t move at fast pace.)

And your
won’t help.
What’s the use?
What is felt?
A hole is no
for a man.

_wake up_
Life’s calling
Strictly appalling.
Change the pace;
Change the place;
Change the times.

What does
all this mean?
But the simplest of things.
I can only hope that
you fucks understand.

Thanks for reading. I know it probably ate up alot of your time. But, if you're like me, there's probably nothing better for you to be doing right now than reading some goofy teenager's blogspot website. So for that reason, I've attached the video responsible for my recent obsession. And just so you know, the hottest one (Hyuna) is the red head in the front. Fuck yes.

<3 dalton.

May 06, 2010

mother may i

Clever title, I know. Much like the rest of the junk I post here.
I'm still trying to figure out if people read this or not. So if you reading this and thinking to yourself "motherfucker, this is good (and/or bad)!" then you should drop me a line on f-book or on here so I can acknowledge your greatness in full form.
Now, back to the matter at hand; A bigger piece, something different. Dedicated to and taking direct influence from the mother fuckin' man himself, Rod Serling.

"Every writer is a frustrated actor who recites his lines in the hidden auditorium of his skull"
- Rod Serling

a conversation with yourself

(universe: present
self: adolescent
universe: parallel
self: withheld)

“i’ve only one question
to ask of you.
so please don’t misinform.
in a future life
is my name in lights?
am i worth having been born?”


“we all chase a dream
that may or may not
be reality.
but to share further details
would surely entail
the destroying of a plot,
that of which
has yet to be thought.”


“so destroy, i ask you!
throw these morals to the dirt,
let my secrets be unearthed.
i’m dying to know
what the fuck
i’ve been living for.”


“after all this time?
after all our hard work?
this prophecy you demand,
defiles all of it’s worth.”


“i asked you not,
for precautions,
i asked only to be taught
in the lessons of my future.
now, go on.
destroy the plot.”


“you’ve asked,
now i’ll deliver.
your future needs
no longer be considered.
it is now in your hands
to appease your wishes
and fulfill your demands.
but beware of one thing,
a dangerous,
little nothing.
known only as
what could have been,
will lie large
on your shoulders.
the inexorable consequence
of becoming your own

For the 2nd act, here's a piece I wrote for my graduation ceremony. Refelections and shit.


a life lesson
that leaves us
how we ended up
in the first place.
why can’t we stay?

nothing gold remains.

sensitive issues
probing muscle
and tissue.
our contemplation.
the reluctance to
the indignation to
embed it in my brain:

nothing gold remains.

Now, haven't you learned something?
Thanks for reading and come see my band Allen Smithee play in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan on May 25th and 28th. Check us out on Facebook for further details.

Damn right,

April 08, 2010

the merry month of 4 (20).

"trying to write without alcohol is like trying to tightrope walk with it"
-Keith Buckley
A special stipulation this month: the following pieces were conceived while i was under the influence of substances.
This is your disclaimer.


i’ll beat myself
trying only to recollect.
the taste
in the back of my throat.
that i had once tried to

if you keep eating my heart//you won’t be hungry for lunch.

i'm hitting this lung;
it's all i've got left.
the rest of my organs
until she reinvents
_the cavity_
that is my chest.

& the headliner...

boiling pot;

not a poet;
but a product.
with an imagination
unsophisticated enough
to voice my most basic concerns

and flourish in them.

as if my thoughts
mean everything and anything.
to everyone and anyone
sophisticated enough
to grasp my works.

So that's another two poems for you, four in total for anyone who was wondering. Feel free to peruse the archives of the site. Even though anything written before the last entry is total crap. Also, feel free to talk some smack at me if you enjoyed the works, and if you hated them too; it's all the same to me.

Thanks for spending valuable moments of your life reading my work,
my lawyer will be in contact with yours,

March 23, 2010

poetry or prose? who the fuck knows.

So, I figured it's about time I kept track of some of my poetry and lyrics and shit, and posted some of them to share with the big ol' internet. Hopefully you find them tasteful, or good. Or shitty. That's fine by me too.

Command & Conquer

We set into war
all four fronts.
I held the knife
on his throat,
gave force and
exhausted his voice.

And to the top of their tower
I did climb.
Sat down, and
felt the world revolve around me
for the very first time.

The monuments you see.
In those pictures, is me.

But as the supports
gave way,
And the tower fell to
the ground.
I realized that feeling,
of my world tumbling down.

& another one for ye...

(Working Title) Sincerely Yours?

My morality's a lost cause.
Or so i'm told.
i've lived a life according to images;
Propaghanda i've been sold.

Am i supposed to react this way?
Is this their form of
following suit?
Tag us.
Seperate us.
In hopes of creating segregated groups
of the simplest terms;
the most convenient definitions.

But there are
Those who question,
those who believe.
And in a world of unseen belief,
there's no telling between.

Thanks for reading kids.
If you have questions about em, ask away and shit.

much love.