Quiet, quiet, quiet....Where the Fuck did the hitting go?

And what is happening to the Ottawa Senators? Ottawa were outshot 12-7 in the first and 14-4 in the second. The second period has been by far the worst period in the series. The hitting vanished and every scoring chance belonged to Anaheim. Ottawa was terrible, absolutely terrible in this period. Words cannot describe the poor plays by Ottawa. Giveaways on top of giveaway, lack of speed and attitude. The Senators seem hopeless on the ice. Only one player has shown up for the Ottawa Senators, and that is their goaltender Ray Emery. He is having an unbelievable game with 26 saves. Emery has been giving Ottawa hope to win, in which they do not deserve.
This blog post is quite short because the period has been all but interesting and electrifying. The best hit that came out of the period -perhaps the best hit of the game - is Volchenkov's body check (aka, the sandwich hit) on Teemu Selanne. That is about it. Poor period for the Senators - and in the series.

More hitz, more hitz and more hitz.....

The first period of the Stanley cup finals between Ottawa Senators and Anaheim Ducks has come to an end. It has been an intensive and electrifying, if I may add, period to begin game two out of a possible seven game series. In case you do not know, I am a Boston Bruins fan, however, I am also a Ottawa Senators fan -pretty damn close to my second favorite team, the Calgary Flames. I have followed Ray Emery, the Senator's goaltender, ever since he stepped on the NHL rink. I have payed close attention to his game and his development, thus I am a Ray Emery fan. Huge fan. I will not hide my disgust about the day that Ottawa signed Martin Gerber - for about 3+ million a year (how many years? I am uncertain). I was distraught because I believed that Ray Emery was Ottawa's true number one goaltender after proving his game throughout last year's [2006] playoffs. He was brilliant, however, he lacked experience. Nonetheless, he has been nothing but steady and, once again, brilliant this season and in these playoffs.
The first period of the second game this series began with a blitzkrieg of pucks fired towards Ray Emery. Fortunately, he saved every one of them (12 saves). Emery splashed and sprawled all over his crease to prevent the Ducks from scoring. However, Emery was lucky that the Ducks hit approximately four posts during their outburst in the period. There were childish penalties taken by both team - one that could have been crucial for Anaheim, when Scott Thornton and Chris Pronger were called to the penalty box, giving the Senators a much needed 5 on 3 power play aka: PP). This 5 on 3 power play left me jaw-dropped and speechless. The amount of scoring chances by the Senators were impossible to count (ok! maybe it was countable, but who's counting? WHO!?). Giguere, who hasn't been active until this PP (with eight minutes left in the period), pulled some rabbits out of his ass, yet there was no surprise seeing them happen. I cannot describe the scoring chances the Senators had within this power PP without shedding some tears. Mike Comrie missing an empty net. Alfredsson saved point blank. Heatley robbed with Giguere five feet away from the net. And it goes on and on.
As the countdown is taking place, the second period will begin. One other thing to add, besides the countless hits taken throughout the period (no surprise!), Ottawa's first line Heatley-Spezza-Alfredsson has been too quiet. Way too quiet.

Minutes to Midnight

Linkin Park's new album, which has caused some ongoing mixed opinion by the fans. They released a successful album, Hybrid Theory, in 2000, with hits such as; One Step Closer, Crawling and In the End. This album combined anger and head-bobbing rhythm. Linkin Park immediately became a fan favorite - not as much as my favorite band, Rage Against the Machine. Nonetheless, Linkin Park became recognized throughout music industries as a fast pumping and thumping, heart-beating band. A generation filled with angst and a voice, heard through bands, such as Linkin Park. We all got our own opinion, right? Obviously, Linkin Park is not for every -as well as any other bands in the world. I am not trying to convert anyone to Linkin Park or soften their image. All I'm trying to establish is my respect and opinion for them. Nonetheless, I am not saying that they are an awesome band and that everyone should like them, either.
Their second album, Meteora, was a similar hit; however, not as successful as Hybrid Theory.
For about fourteen months Linkin Park worked on their new album, which came out a couple of weeks ago. They decided to try something new -in this case, change their rhythm but keep the same style. Their new album, Minutes to Midnight, delivered quite a change to fans. I have never been a real fan of Linkin Park, but I will admit that some of their songs have impressed me. I enjoyed; Crawling, Runaway, Faint and Lying from you. However, I could not consider myself a real fan. I decided to buy the new album, taking a chance on them without looking into the album. I started to listen to the new album -keep in mind that I did not read any reviews pertaining to the new album. As I listened to the second track, Given up, -the first track was a preload (just music, no words)- until the last minute of the album, I indeed felt and heard a different Linkin Park.
What do I mean by a different Linkin Park? For instance, throughout the first and second album there were loads of sounds with Chester (lead singer) screaming at the top of his lungs. There were a lot of angry tempo and an angry voice behind the mic. In the new album, except for "No More Sorrow" and "Given up," Linkin Park has established a smoother tone and vocals to their songs. Chester has shown that he cannot only scream the music, but he can actually sing it at any tempo. He showed his soft side in the song -my favorite from the new album- "Shadow of the Sun" and "Leave out all the rest." Many fans were left disappointed from listening to Minutes to Midnight because it did not enchant the anger and harsh rhythm as it did in the previous two albums; however, they are wrong. Dead wrong. The entire album is not a soft and totally changed Linkin Park. Hell no! Songs such as "No More Sorrow" and "Given Up," bring the high-electrifying exuberant anger/power rap rhythm that fans love to hear.
After listening to the entire album, I, a non-real-Linkin-Park-fan, have developed respect for the group. I enjoy listening to their new album at any given time; however, they are not chosen over Rage Against the Machine when I need music to relax me or motivate me. Nonetheless, Minutes to Midnight does motivate me, but not as much as Rage Against the Machine.

Chasing Shadows

Take it for what it's worth. This is mainly freelance........yup....


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Beautiful attraction, strong distraction,
The mind curling up inside,
The main problems reside
In your soul smothered in sins,
A question of faith,
A question unanswered,
You'll never be the one you'll beg to be,
Enough of these sad tales,
And your ghastly expressions,
Covered in blood,
The riches own, the poor beg to live,
Now I wake up
Chasing the same goddamn thing
Over and over again,
One last time, why not?

Chasing shadows,
Along each wall,
One by one with every pull,
My strength falls, while I,
Chase shadows.

Lost in the moment,
Lost in the music, which spins me around,
Where have you been?
I, Smothered in vain,
Long behold what I wanted is finally there,
A chance given,
Hit hard in the face,
The needle points straight down
Towards me,
I'm chasing you, the shadows,
Blistering my view,
Once again, I want you, I want it all,
But all I got was the shame spread inside me
Like a virus, cleared until its killed,
Chasing, what's not there.

Chasing shadows,
Where have I been?
Looking past my shoulder,
Your never there,
Chasing shadows.

What have I done,
To deserve what I got,
A lot of bad, a lot of good,
Nonetheless, the guilt covers myself,
You twist and turn me the way you want,
A fiction, a long lasting nightmare,
What I need is who you are,
But who you are is quite mysterious,
A trigger, a life long sentence of where I am,
A light at the end,
But who am I fooling?
It's too far away.

Chasing shadows,
Where have I been?
Looking past my shoulder,
Your never there,
Chasing shadows,
Once again, once again

Weakened and Battered

For the past couple of days I've been over my head, cramming every single possible word that exists. I've been occupied with studying for exams such as; philosophy, French renaissance and logic (big whoop!). If that wasn't enough, I had to start writing an English essay on two poems, which was two three days from when I started. For about thirty minutes I had debated the poems in which I would decipher. I mean, how hard can that be? Right? Oh God, the pain! I chose a 10 line poem called "To Lindsay," written by Allen Ginsberg. It was riveting and compressed the inner soul. The poem focused on the speaker's grief, and slowly made its way to the suspenseful suicide, dropping the shadow to the floor. Riveting I say because I can. The clock ticking louder and faster as I typed, compressing my ideas unaware of the time. Tick tock, tick tock, my ideas bursting in mid-air. Day becomes night, the warm air turns cold and now my eyes begin to close. I worked endlessly. Alright, so I took a couple of breaks, big deal. It came to a point where I couldn't differentiate between the meaning of the "harsh" and "soft" sounds. What the fucks up with that?!
For about an hour I put it away, hoping to never see it again, but who am I kidding? The essay was worth 20%, it wasn't some freelance work or something. It was an addicting, eating my guts, pulling me and forcing me to give in. I couldn't bear to look away and do something else, knowing that it wasn't done or even close of being worthy. I sat down, looked at the screen. Document opened for the second time filled with words, hundreds, maybe thousands. Who knows? Who cares? I was determined to finish it. Fist pumped. Actually both of them were. I was eager to start typing, aggressive to the point that my fingers would start to hurt. However, all I was doing was type "Finish this Shit" several times. My eyelids slowly began to shut. NO! I had to stay awake. "Get." "WATER." "NOW!!" Too late. Before I could move my fragile legs, I fell on my side, eyes close and fast asleep. I had awaken two hours later.

Must.
Keep.
Writing.
Do.
Not.
Lose.
Focus.

sincerely, Claudio.

Fingers and mind went back to work. Two hours later, one poem was done. Damn Right! Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I had realized that I had to decipher another poem. "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!" My brain felt drained and useless from thinking too much. How can that be possible? But it is, it is. Even word seemed the same. Every meaning felt awkward. Every line seemed to be the same -word for word- as the previous line. I had too sleep, I just had too.

Go To Sleep. Yeah, at 6pm. Sounds reasonable.

Louder please

Music roaring in the background, vibing through your skin. Heads bobing up and down, now side to side at the tone of Rage. Hand gestures slicing downwards, back and forth, back and forth. Music stops, now the bodies dead. Track two, beat begins to shake, the sound of the drums begin to roll, the floor vibrates and now the crowd begins to jump. JUMP! Listen to the Bulls on Parade. The pen shakes, now I become motivated, more then ever. The words climb atop my mind once again as I join the band and sing.
That was six days ago, i haven't heard them until today. I was hoping to let go of them, at least until my final exam next tuesday, but no, my cousin talked me into hearing them again. I was writing for about four hours today. My mind worked up, my brain jamned and now my thouhts all over the place. I needed some inspiration to say the least. I did not want to break my vow, but how could I keep it? Then again, I needed some motivation, some inspiration.....some Rage! I know several people, who I will not mention their name, disagree with my passion for Rage, but, nonetheless, they respect me for who I am, therefore, I respect them for respecting me. However, how can you hate a band without listening to them? I mean, if you have listened to them once, twice and did not like them, then that is understandable, but to say you've never heard them and do not look foward to do so. Perhaps it is the name of the band, Rage Against the Machine. Perhaps they think the band is some heavy metal, junk, unappreciated group of people who hate the world. Maybe. Listen to them, give them a try at least. They do write lyrics with meaning. There is something there. Anyways, who am I kidding, no one understands.
I assume there are a number of things that motivate people, and there should be. Perhaps it is the girl next door as she waves hello to you, perhaps the cross and figure of Jesus in your room, perhaps family, perhaps the thought of cheap wine and champagne, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Motivation comes in different sizes. Music is my choice. However, not all types of music. I cannot listen to depressive music or heavy metal music, it is just not for me. I enjoy listening to Rage Against the Machine, New Foudn Glory, Bruce Springsteen, Radiohead, Linkin Park, Guns n' Roses, AC/DC, The Strokes, Buck 65.......and the list goes on. However, one band that keeps motivating me and relaxing me at all times is Rage Against the Machine.

Summer plans.....ummm

It is that time of year, when the sun shines and school is over. Soon. Very soon. I will not bore you with detail for every intention I wish to fullfill. There will not be pages and pages of mind boggling descriptive analyses on every God forsaken activity. Nonetheless, you should, and I hope, have some visual aspect of them. The main goal this summer is getting into shape. Every summer I found ways to keep myself active and more, let's say, outgoing. When winter strolls along I become more indequate and lazy, so to speak. I find everything as gloomy and weary as the dark clouds shading earth on this dreadful season. However, I do acknowledge that there are also great things about winter, but who really wants to know? Anyone? I thought so. Now, back to my summer plans. Fitness is important as every bone and flesh in our bodies. In my early high school years I was a lazy asshole, who couldn't bother with jogging or walking long stretches. However, it all changed the summer before secondary 3. I was not doing very well in the first term Gym class, in which we were tested on endurace (26 laps or so). I kept getting in the low 70s, so that summer I began to change things around. I jogged and walked quite often, and of course I drank lots of water. Long story short, I got 87 on the endurance exam. This motivated me to do better and too stay in shape. Unfortunately, for some reason I only got into it when summer came along, and still do.
I am 5 foot 11-6 feet and I weigh between 175-185 (somewhere there, look closely). My goal is to lose 15 pounds this summer, yes 15 EFFING pounds. Canada, here I come. A summer of jogging and walking along the beach and around the neighbourhood. Now, what else do I want to do this summer besides exercise? Play sports, swim, bike, just to name a few. I'm sure you can use your imagination.
I usually procrastinate, at least I do so when it comes to work this semester, but this is unlikely going to happen come this summer. I am so determined to lose the 15 pounds, that I will buy you (those that I know) 5 drinks at the bar or something equivalent to fifty dollars if I fail to do so. How can this be done? Simple. We'll measure my weight before summer begins, and then we will measure my weight once school begins (late August).

AHHH these poems

Nothing like studying poetry. Nothing! The words soothing one's soul, bringing harmony to one's heart andthen taking one's breath away. Aye, the good old days, drinking some tequilla, while reading Wordsworth and not understanding a single damn word. Reading it over and over, you would think I understand it by now. However, life is not that simple. You cannot hope for the best and wonder blindfolded in the world. Nonetheless, I have ten poems, written by six poets, to know by friday. No problem. I wish. Now that I think of it, I also have to link three passages, given on the test, to three different themes/topics/concepts. That should be lovely and soothing. This time, instead of being in 'awe' I will have my mouth opened with the words echoeing 'ahh."
I pray that I have not mislead you into thinking that I hate poetry. I simply do not. I respect all poets, thus it is tough to write in manners as prolific as Shakespeare, Keats and so much more. However, my style of writing poetry is different from there's and, hopefully, different from other writers. I would love to talk about this; however, I must stick to the main topic. Yeah, poetry.
I have always wondered about these poet's style and the meaning extracted by their poems. Did they intend for their poems to mean exactly what we, now, interpret it to be? Was it by chance that their poems consisted of such moving themes and abstructed dilemna's? I mean, are they being given more credit than they deserve? Unfortunately, we will never know because they are dead.

Anyways, untill next time.

And so it goes....

Yo Yo Yo, check check check this out.

The infant one, infant joy, the infinite spell,
The blood drenches, bleeds red and white,
The colors of our flag, as we raise it with pride,
But the sorrows spill from this infant’s eye,
We wear it as a sweater we wear with rage,
Hurt inside, as the sharp tool penetrates our guts,
Kicked to the ground, left alone all bruised,
Weakened by their presence, and now they refuse,
To treat us like the others, treat us with respect,
The city screams vengeance, the rebels yell riots,
The word in town, is that we’re going to pry it,
The right is ours; we have the freedom, yet we’re treated like dirt,
We were the last crumble, falling to the ground,
But now we are the arch being built and risen,
Now we’ll take the power back,
And everything swept from beneath our feet!

Part one: Our Government

About a month ago I came across an interesting short article called 'Quebec Provincial elections 2007," written by a friend of mind (I will not mention his/her name). Personally, I hate politicians for their lack of justice and the abuse they allow to proceed. Fighting a war we have no purpose to step in. Providing a neighbour with too many soldiers to fight for their cause and then pray that we don't get attacked. They hide in their shadows, under the desk, behind the walls of their guarded home. They seize our money to build useless theme parks, unreliable bridges, and the rest of it goes into their pockets. We work hard to get paid and to survive. But where does the money go? It is a cycle. The money we earn goes right back to the government. How do they support us? Let's see, the price of gas has more loops than a roller-coaster, the price of food keeps increasing and the poor and homeless collide to devastating numbers. I understand that not everyone can please every single person, but you say that you will guide us, protect us and feed us. How about doing so?
The problem with politicians is that they are all crooks. They don't give a shit about the people, at least most of them don't. They could care less about us. When they look at us they see a minority, but we are the majority. We are what balances this world and those around us. They see themselves absorbing a great amount of power and authority that they become engulfed into it. This power takes over them and before you know it they go the opposite ways from what they promised before the elections. I, for one, hate the government for many reasons of course.
The only reason Mario Dumant came in third was because people felt betrayed by Charest, who didn't, and they don't want a separation. Now, this is democracy, but how do you know that the votes aren't fixed. Corruptive. Greed. Power. Authority. Activists. Rebel. Crime. Hatred.
Who are we? We are the people. We are unity and only we can guide this ship in the right direction. I am not calling for anarchists, I am calling for justice. Is it right or wrong to mourn for soldiers who go out there and fight for our country. Die in vain, in a cause they do not belong. They could be at home with their family, a safe place. However, these brave men decide to enlist in the army. If we were attacked, by all means fight for us, but we were not attacked.
To be continued....

It's been a while *INTRO*

For the past two months my cousin has been telling me, every so often, to write, write and write some more. For some reason I did not initiate his demand until today. I must point out to you that my cousin is a terrific writer. He bears this rare ability to hold the reader and mingle in their thoughts with his powerful writing. I do not consider myself a writer, at least not at this moment, but I am willing to persevere in being one. I've decided to start blogging my thoughts about the world in general because I find it to be one of my strong points. I have been influenced by certain authors, such as George Orwell, and music bands, most certainly Rage Against the Machine. I'm not going to discus Rage Against the Machine at this moment, but I will in the future.
I assume you would like to know a little about me, since you will be reading my articles. Describing the way I look is pointless, since most of you know how I look and because it is irrelevant. I enjoy writing poems about society, government, love, pain--whether it is during class, while I'm in the library, at home or when words begin to be put together in my head. However, I do not want to be considered a poet yet. I also love to read the lyrics to Rage Against the Machine songs because they bring forward a powerful message, which allow you to see the truth and the lie in the world. Then again, that is just me. I guess I should state that I have been writing poems for about four years, and I will continue to do so.
I don't talk much, but I do transfer my thoughts into poems. It is a way in which I connect with myself. For the first, three years, I have been writing poems primarily on love. However, my thoughts and perspective on life changed. I began to be aware of the ongoing events in this perilous world, that I persuaded to voice my opinion. It was from then on that I changed my poetic style into a more tighter and as close to powerful lines to elude the problems we are unaware of.
I may decide at some point to post certain poems I have created, but until then I will post my thoughts on numerous events in the world, or about my day.