A woven sack of fear (original) (raw)

New album free to download!	[Mar. 30th, 2009\|12:11 pm]dan
I don't know how many of you still use this thing but I had some news to finally break me out of my LiveJournal slumber.Danny Deleto, my band, is releasing its first album for free online (mppppp3ssss)! Please visit www.dannydeleto.com or www.myspace.com/dannydeleto to check it out.Thanks friends!
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Deportation	[Aug. 17th, 2008\|02:05 am]dan
Just thought I'd point out how disappointing it was to read this today:http://www.petitiononline.com/danout/petition.html
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Bed to the bills	[Mar. 9th, 2007\|02:48 pm]dan
When I'm home sick, watching TV and generally lounging around, I spend a lot of time thinking about random things: like ways to trick my body into recovery.I mean this in a very literal way.I've found that sometimes it's possible to power through your illness: convince yourself that you feel fine and continue living your ordinary life until you actually do feel fine.I mean, when your body is sick it does nothing but lie to you.It tells you that it isn't thirsty. It also tells you that it needs to lay down and become overwhelmed by sickness.It wants the brain to take a vacation as it wallows in its own discomfort.That's why I refuse to play my body's little game.I force myself to sit vertical until my body complains with unbearable nasea.I wear my winter clothes and walk around outside until I feel weak and need to sit down.The body needs to know its place in the hierarchy of the being. It's basically the mind's bitch -- a mere shell that cases and transports the mind and all of its functions.
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Bed to the bills

[Mar. 9th, 2007|02:48 pm]dan

When I'm home sick, watching TV and generally lounging around, I spend a lot of time thinking about random things: like ways to trick my body into recovery.I mean this in a very literal way.I've found that sometimes it's possible to power through your illness: convince yourself that you feel fine and continue living your ordinary life until you actually do feel fine.I mean, when your body is sick it does nothing but lie to you.It tells you that it isn't thirsty. It also tells you that it needs to lay down and become overwhelmed by sickness.It wants the brain to take a vacation as it wallows in its own discomfort.That's why I refuse to play my body's little game.I force myself to sit vertical until my body complains with unbearable nasea.I wear my winter clothes and walk around outside until I feel weak and need to sit down.The body needs to know its place in the hierarchy of the being. It's basically the mind's bitch -- a mere shell that cases and transports the mind and all of its functions.

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(no subject)	[Jun. 2nd, 2006\|05:58 pm]dan
I got the most strange email in my inbox this afternoon. All it said was the following:"Part of the reason was that he was living an amazingly straight life. bertie cave "Annie!He had been dozing peacefully enough in front of his own fire with a book in his lap when Colter came, waking him up. ""But you can't write with your hand like that! No. That bird came from Africa. His eyes drifted closed. "He thought about this, startled — her occasional sharp insights never failed to startle him — and decided it was true. There was a snap as the pin broke in two, the part in the lock falling in, and he had a dull moment to consider his failure before he saw that the door was slowly swinging open with the tongue of the lock sticking out of the plate like a steel finger."I'm assuming it is some kind of junk mail message - or a warning - but I wonder who would bother to send me something so vague.
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(no subject)

[Jun. 2nd, 2006|05:58 pm]dan

I got the most strange email in my inbox this afternoon. All it said was the following:"Part of the reason was that he was living an amazingly straight life. bertie cave "Annie!He had been dozing peacefully enough in front of his own fire with a book in his lap when Colter came, waking him up. ""But you can't write with your hand like that! No. That bird came from Africa. His eyes drifted closed. "He thought about this, startled — her occasional sharp insights never failed to startle him — and decided it was true. There was a snap as the pin broke in two, the part in the lock falling in, and he had a dull moment to consider his failure before he saw that the door was slowly swinging open with the tongue of the lock sticking out of the plate like a steel finger."I'm assuming it is some kind of junk mail message - or a warning - but I wonder who would bother to send me something so vague.

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Zombeeeees	[Mar. 6th, 2006\|04:32 pm]dan
I had the worst sleep last night.It was one of those nights where your dreams feel so alive and vivid that when you actually wake up in the morning, you don't feel rested at all. If anything, you feel more worn out than if you had stayed awake all night.To sum it up, in my dream, the world was being devastated by a plague that turned people into animated corpses. While I would normally relish the opportunity to attack hoards of mindless zombies, it was too realistic to be fun.Instead, I remember going to the store to buy canned goods to fill my mountain top bunker (mountain tops have the best vantage point). I remember arguing with the captain of a yaucht that was trying to convince me to evacuate the main land (emergency personnel were forcing people to board boats headed for a secret island... but somehow I knew the disease had already spread to the island and the boats were headed for "Zombie Island").It was a dream filled with rigorous details - like waiting in line, and paying bus fares - the kind of details that make dreams a tedious continuation of your daily existence and not an awesome escape.Anyway, I woke up this morning with stomach pains and a headache. I was also holding a dismembered arm!
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Zombeeeees

[Mar. 6th, 2006|04:32 pm]dan

I had the worst sleep last night.It was one of those nights where your dreams feel so alive and vivid that when you actually wake up in the morning, you don't feel rested at all. If anything, you feel more worn out than if you had stayed awake all night.To sum it up, in my dream, the world was being devastated by a plague that turned people into animated corpses. While I would normally relish the opportunity to attack hoards of mindless zombies, it was too realistic to be fun.Instead, I remember going to the store to buy canned goods to fill my mountain top bunker (mountain tops have the best vantage point). I remember arguing with the captain of a yaucht that was trying to convince me to evacuate the main land (emergency personnel were forcing people to board boats headed for a secret island... but somehow I knew the disease had already spread to the island and the boats were headed for "Zombie Island").It was a dream filled with rigorous details - like waiting in line, and paying bus fares - the kind of details that make dreams a tedious continuation of your daily existence and not an awesome escape.Anyway, I woke up this morning with stomach pains and a headache. I was also holding a dismembered arm!

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Junk Mail rules	[Feb. 24th, 2006\|04:57 pm]dan
Normally, I'm not a fan of junk mail but today I got a really awesome offer that I plan to pursue.Subject: XP PRO, OFFICE 2003 AND ALL AT ONLY $12-60 EACH, WE GIVE U LICENSE replywindow nothing servants.letters shining explain, friends development appearance immediate make embarrass.find latter young happened. window leader or allow.embarrass goes benefit fire. thats commit reading prison sandwich friends. immediate leader speaking.suddenly back the mischievous off embarrass. companion letters back side not parents. wrong sandwich being steps music slow.I did my best to go over the pitch, line-by-line, to decipher a meaning.Servants of the great Microsoft Corporation.I am not a Magician but if I was capable of magic, trust me I would express this email through shining letters on your computer screen. This is how badly I hope to develop a friendship with you. I have embarrassed myself.Someday, you will pass the stage of youth. It will be shocking, but this is normal. You can still be a leader using the Windows operating system.Sometimes embarrassing fires can turn out to be blessings. Other times, terrible crimes. If you commit such crimes, you will be forced to make friends with the sandwich maker in prison. He can offer you protection, and sandwiches. I am a leader, so please continue to read this email.Suddenly, you will stop feeling bad about your crimes. But people that you once throught were close friends will take advantage of your situation by writing letters to your parents, behind your back. This betrayal will cause you to neglect your friendship with the sandwich maker, and you will eat a "you never really loved me" sandwich and it will destroy your passion for slow music.
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Junk Mail rules

[Feb. 24th, 2006|04:57 pm]dan

Normally, I'm not a fan of junk mail but today I got a really awesome offer that I plan to pursue.**Subject: XP PRO, OFFICE 2003 AND ALL AT ONLY $12-60 EACH, WE GIVE U LICENSE replywindow nothing servants.letters shining explain, friends development appearance immediate make embarrass.find latter young happened. window leader or allow.embarrass goes benefit fire. thats commit reading prison sandwich friends. immediate leader speaking.suddenly back the mischievous off embarrass. companion letters back side not parents. wrong sandwich being steps music slow.**I did my best to go over the pitch, line-by-line, to decipher a meaning.Servants of the great Microsoft Corporation.I am not a Magician but if I was capable of magic, trust me I would express this email through shining letters on your computer screen. This is how badly I hope to develop a friendship with you. I have embarrassed myself.Someday, you will pass the stage of youth. It will be shocking, but this is normal. You can still be a leader using the Windows operating system.Sometimes embarrassing fires can turn out to be blessings. Other times, terrible crimes. If you commit such crimes, you will be forced to make friends with the sandwich maker in prison. He can offer you protection, and sandwiches. I am a leader, so please continue to read this email.Suddenly, you will stop feeling bad about your crimes. But people that you once throught were close friends will take advantage of your situation by writing letters to your parents, behind your back. This betrayal will cause you to neglect your friendship with the sandwich maker, and you will eat a "you never really loved me" sandwich and it will destroy your passion for slow music.

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(no subject)	[Feb. 8th, 2006\|11:30 am]dan
I'm currently reading a book by Kurt Vonnegut called "Timequake". It's kind of a weird mix between a biography and fictional story about a decade of consciousness on cruise control.In one passage from the book, Vonnegut talks about two prominent styles of writing that he's observed in his friends and fellow writers - there are "swoopers" and "bashers", he says.Swoopers throw everything down, and swoop through a story from beginning to end in a single session. Then they go back over the story, later, to re-vise and correct their mistakes. The final product is essentially made from the frame of the first swoop.Bashers, on the other hand, painstakingly struggle with each word as they bash their way through a story from beginning to end. Bashers work at a slower pace, because writing is a struggle of perfection.I don't agree that writers necessarily fit snuggly into either of these categories but I can still appreciate the description.I think I am a "swasher" or a "booper" - a mix between his two offered descriptions. (The fact that I'm a journalist and not a fiction writer might account for this difference.)When I write an article, I tend to swoop through the story from beginning to end, making sure I can carry some sort of theme or purpose through the article. It is important to have a wide-view as you write an article in order to focus on important ideas and emphasize points that need to be emphasized. However, when I've finished swooping through the article, I go back to the beginning and bash my way through sentences, inserting facts and new ideas and re-writing every single sentence.I basically swoop through an article, to shape the skull, spine and skeleton, then I bash the fleshing onto the bones, word by word.Even this livejournal entry is an example of my strange style. I kindof write everything down, making sure to mention the main points of what I want to talk about, and then I go back and insert all of the "detaily" type information to emphasize my message.
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(no subject)

[Feb. 8th, 2006|11:30 am]dan

I'm currently reading a book by Kurt Vonnegut called "Timequake". It's kind of a weird mix between a biography and fictional story about a decade of consciousness on cruise control.In one passage from the book, Vonnegut talks about two prominent styles of writing that he's observed in his friends and fellow writers - there are "swoopers" and "bashers", he says.Swoopers throw everything down, and swoop through a story from beginning to end in a single session. Then they go back over the story, later, to re-vise and correct their mistakes. The final product is essentially made from the frame of the first swoop.Bashers, on the other hand, painstakingly struggle with each word as they bash their way through a story from beginning to end. Bashers work at a slower pace, because writing is a struggle of perfection.I don't agree that writers necessarily fit snuggly into either of these categories but I can still appreciate the description.I think I am a "swasher" or a "booper" - a mix between his two offered descriptions. (The fact that I'm a journalist and not a fiction writer might account for this difference.)When I write an article, I tend to swoop through the story from beginning to end, making sure I can carry some sort of theme or purpose through the article. It is important to have a wide-view as you write an article in order to focus on important ideas and emphasize points that need to be emphasized. However, when I've finished swooping through the article, I go back to the beginning and bash my way through sentences, inserting facts and new ideas and re-writing every single sentence.I basically swoop through an article, to shape the skull, spine and skeleton, then I bash the fleshing onto the bones, word by word.Even this livejournal entry is an example of my strange style. I kindof write everything down, making sure to mention the main points of what I want to talk about, and then I go back and insert all of the "detaily" type information to emphasize my message.

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BOOK REQUEST	[Feb. 2nd, 2006\|01:46 pm]dan
TELL ME 3 BOOKS THAT YOU LOVE OR THAT CHANGED YOUR LIFE.For my four years in Toronto, I constantly had a book in my hand... or more specifically stuffed in the pocket of my coat. I was constantly reading books at work, at school and on my way to work and school.But now, living in Ottawa, I don't have the same opportunity to read since I drive to work and I write all day at work.I'm now seriously craving some good books. I have a pretty big collection of books that I've yet to read, but I figure, now would be a good time to start stocking up anyway.Everyone that sees this, please tell me 3 books that you love or that changed your life.
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BOOK REQUEST

[Feb. 2nd, 2006|01:46 pm]dan

TELL ME 3 BOOKS THAT YOU LOVE OR THAT CHANGED YOUR LIFE.For my four years in Toronto, I constantly had a book in my hand... or more specifically stuffed in the pocket of my coat. I was constantly reading books at work, at school and on my way to work and school.But now, living in Ottawa, I don't have the same opportunity to read since I drive to work and I write all day at work.I'm now seriously craving some good books. I have a pretty big collection of books that I've yet to read, but I figure, now would be a good time to start stocking up anyway.Everyone that sees this, please tell me 3 books that you love or that changed your life.

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Journalists are people too... just better ones	[Jan. 27th, 2006\|03:19 pm]dan
My job has the ability to seriously lift me up or throw me down each morning. And I hate that.Some days, I get nothing but direct phone calls of praise for an article I've written. Non-stop, overwhelming flattery and thanks. Other times, I get furious phone calls taking personal offense to an incorrect fact that I've printed.First of all, as a journalist, I already feel like shit if I get something wrong. I take pride in my work and I take my role as a journalist very seriously. I like getting things right - that's why I go over my stories line-by-line, making sure every sentence is accurate.So when a mistake slips through, and it does, it makes me feel like a complete failure. Today, I feel like a failure. I know everyone in the profession has to deal with this kind of thing, but I don't have thick skin. In fact, my skin is pretty thin and fleshy.If I went to the trouble of explaining my current blunder, you would probably think that I was dwelling on a non-issue. Which I am.But I just wonder if it gets any easier to let yourself down. Because, this job is all about putting yourself out there. You put a piece of yourself into print, and people pick it apart.I think that being a journalist is one of the most noble professions there is, and I don't just say that because I am a journalist. Well, it probably has something to do with it. I can't think of any other job that requires the same stead-fast devotion to truth, accuracy and transparency.People that know me, know that I'm not a pushy person. I'm not even an overly social person. My place is on the sidelines. Analyzing, and explaining my observations. But when someone challenges something that I believe in, usually the truth, I can turn into a raging monster.At a recent council meeting, a municipal councillor publicly attacked an article that I wrote about the township's debt. He said something along the lines of: "He shouldn't question our policy in public. He should be more responsible to the community and to think of developers and investors when he writes articles. It doesn't look good to companies that are interested in investing in our town. His comments in this article were false, completely inaccurate and damaging." Again, I don't remember the exact wording of his attack, but that was the basic sentiment.I was reporting on the meeting, as I do every other Monday night, and my jaw hit the floor. The comment completely took me by surprise. I was taken away to a different world, a much more angry one. When I returned from my angry shock world, I marched up to the front of the council chambers and confronted the councillor on television in front of the mayor and the public.I asked him, for the record, which facts he took issue with. I told him, as a journalist, it's not my job to misrepresent information so if he could find a single mis-printed fact, I would glady print a correction.He told me that he took issue with the wording of the article that shed the township's real and indisputable financial situation in unfavourable light. Though my articles are always, by nature, free of opinion, I guess he was looking for a more upbeat explanation of debt.I told him that I wasn't interested in arguing the semantics of words or the language colouring of a story. And then I asked him to clarify what he meant when he asked me to "consider developers and investors" when writing articles.He stuttered a bit and said that he didn't mean it like "that".I had him quoted at the time, so I read his quote out loud.He didn't say anything, so I reminded him that it was against the law to threaten the freedom of the press.He was backpeddling so hard, doing everything he could to get out of the situation. Even the Mayor turned to this pitbull and said something like: "Dan is right".See, my girlfriend might be able to yell at me when I don't hang up a towel in the bathroom. My mom might be able to yell at me when I don't put my dishes in the dishwasher. A city bus driver might be able to yell at me for trying to pay my fare in plastic coins. But a politician can't yell at me when I don't kiss his ass.
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Journalists are people too... just better ones

[Jan. 27th, 2006|03:19 pm]dan

My job has the ability to seriously lift me up or throw me down each morning. And I hate that.Some days, I get nothing but direct phone calls of praise for an article I've written. Non-stop, overwhelming flattery and thanks. Other times, I get furious phone calls taking personal offense to an incorrect fact that I've printed.First of all, as a journalist, I already feel like shit if I get something wrong. I take pride in my work and I take my role as a journalist very seriously. I like getting things right - that's why I go over my stories line-by-line, making sure every sentence is accurate.So when a mistake slips through, and it does, it makes me feel like a complete failure. Today, I feel like a failure. I know everyone in the profession has to deal with this kind of thing, but I don't have thick skin. In fact, my skin is pretty thin and fleshy.If I went to the trouble of explaining my current blunder, you would probably think that I was dwelling on a non-issue. Which I am.But I just wonder if it gets any easier to let yourself down. Because, this job is all about putting yourself out there. You put a piece of yourself into print, and people pick it apart.I think that being a journalist is one of the most noble professions there is, and I don't just say that because I am a journalist. Well, it probably has something to do with it. I can't think of any other job that requires the same stead-fast devotion to truth, accuracy and transparency.People that know me, know that I'm not a pushy person. I'm not even an overly social person. My place is on the sidelines. Analyzing, and explaining my observations. But when someone challenges something that I believe in, usually the truth, I can turn into a raging monster.At a recent council meeting, a municipal councillor publicly attacked an article that I wrote about the township's debt. He said something along the lines of: "He shouldn't question our policy in public. He should be more responsible to the community and to think of developers and investors when he writes articles. It doesn't look good to companies that are interested in investing in our town. His comments in this article were false, completely inaccurate and damaging." Again, I don't remember the exact wording of his attack, but that was the basic sentiment.I was reporting on the meeting, as I do every other Monday night, and my jaw hit the floor. The comment completely took me by surprise. I was taken away to a different world, a much more angry one. When I returned from my angry shock world, I marched up to the front of the council chambers and confronted the councillor on television in front of the mayor and the public.I asked him, for the record, which facts he took issue with. I told him, as a journalist, it's not my job to misrepresent information so if he could find a single mis-printed fact, I would glady print a correction.He told me that he took issue with the wording of the article that shed the township's real and indisputable financial situation in unfavourable light. Though my articles are always, by nature, free of opinion, I guess he was looking for a more upbeat explanation of debt.I told him that I wasn't interested in arguing the semantics of words or the language colouring of a story. And then I asked him to clarify what he meant when he asked me to "consider developers and investors" when writing articles.He stuttered a bit and said that he didn't mean it like "that".I had him quoted at the time, so I read his quote out loud.He didn't say anything, so I reminded him that it was against the law to threaten the freedom of the press.He was backpeddling so hard, doing everything he could to get out of the situation. Even the Mayor turned to this pitbull and said something like: "Dan is right".See, my girlfriend might be able to yell at me when I don't hang up a towel in the bathroom. My mom might be able to yell at me when I don't put my dishes in the dishwasher. A city bus driver might be able to yell at me for trying to pay my fare in plastic coins. But a politician can't yell at me when I don't kiss his ass.

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(no subject)	[Dec. 29th, 2005\|01:44 pm]dan
A photographer in China is crashing into controversy this week with his brutal photos of a man falling off of his bicycle.The man hit a well known pot hole submerged in rain water on the street in Xiamen city.Photographer Liu Tao is being accused of sitting on the sidelines, waiting for the amazing accident to happen instead of warning people of the danger.Readers of the Beijing Youth Daily, which published the shots, wrote in to express their feelings.One wrote: "The pictures are well shot, but the person who shot this is disgusting. He knew there was a pit, but was waiting there for someone to fall over."And another said: "The photographer should really be condemned since he knew there definitely would be other victims."Liu defended himself, saying: "I just knew that the city government has paved the pit, and without my pictures, the pit would not be noticed by the government, and there would perhaps be more people falling over."
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(no subject)

[Dec. 29th, 2005|01:44 pm]dan

A photographer in China is crashing into controversy this week with his brutal photos of a man falling off of his bicycle.

The man hit a well known pot hole submerged in rain water on the street in Xiamen city.Photographer Liu Tao is being accused of sitting on the sidelines, waiting for the amazing accident to happen instead of warning people of the danger.

Readers of the Beijing Youth Daily, which published the shots, wrote in to express their feelings.One wrote: "The pictures are well shot, but the person who shot this is disgusting. He knew there was a pit, but was waiting there for someone to fall over."And another said: "The photographer should really be condemned since he knew there definitely would be other victims."

Liu defended himself, saying: "I just knew that the city government has paved the pit, and without my pictures, the pit would not be noticed by the government, and there would perhaps be more people falling over."

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