WORST MONDAYS: with Warren Kinsella
At JUICEBOX HQ, we’ve never really had a case of the Mondays because we don’t have real-people jobs. But for those feeling a bit garfield this A.M., feel free to wallow in other people’s most hated things. Every Monday! (Except for, you know, last Monday. Sorry.)
When combing the internet provides you with a photo of some politico in their office with a huge Joy Division poster on the wall (see below), you know you’re not dealing with your run-of-the-mill high-ranking Liberal Party insider. We say that because, as Young People, we are disenfranchised with “the system” and listen to a lot of “Rage Against the Machine.” Anyway, Warren Kinsella makes us want to to trade in our Che Guevara shirts and get some nice slacks with anarchy patches on them.
Photo by DZGNBOY
Kinsella is many things to many people. Best known to Canadians as the Liberal Party spin-doctor who helped lead Jean Chretien to a blagillion landslide majority governments in the ’90s (earning him a reputation as our own little James Carville in the process), he’s also a best-selling author, political consultant, and a veteran punk rocker. Nardwaur‘s band even covered one of his songs. Peep that shit.
So he runs an insanely popular blog, fights nazis, and told The National Post (his former employer) where to shove it. We don’t always agree with him (guy hates Wikipedia!), but we respect him. Plus, he’s actually very tall, and could probably beat us in a fight:
Probably at Corporate Death Burger — you know, McDonald’s — in Calgary at age 15. I ended up writing a big expose about the experience for the school paper, and was threatened with a libel lawsuit. My first!
Any of the ones in which Nature is turning me, involuntarily, into a skinhead. I don’t like any of those.
Hippies. I always despised hippies. Self-obsessed, self-centred, selfish. Forget about “peace and love” – hate and war, like the Clash said.
I actually got two front row tickets to see Queen at the Jubilee Stadium in Calgary (I was more interested in seeing Thin Lizzie, and actually chatted with Phil Lynott while there, but I digress), and took Bonnie, the then great love of my youthful life. When we left, she said: “Where’s your car?” I told her I didn’t have one. She left with someone else. Nice.
The iPhone, naturally. IT’S A PHONE, PEOPLE. It’s an EXPENSIVE phone. Do you all have to be such consumerist victims all the time? Sheesh.
The iPhone. No, just kidding; I didn’t line up for one, and nor will I ever. Worst purchase? I would say those Queen tickets.
Worst way to die
Tied to chair, being forced to watch successive episodes of American Idol. Sweet Jesus Almighty, I loathe that program. Unfortunately, my view is not shared by the women who live in our house.