Dennis' Blog

youtube!

2006-09-13T21:08:00.000-04:00

I created a youtube account a few days ago it's pretty fun!
http://www.youtube.com/user/dahman69

Tough Organs

2006-08-13T21:35:00.000-04:00

I have good genes. I’ve seen my father and his brothers abuse their bodies with cigarettes and alcohol and they are still alive in their late seveties. I can drink all night, get up the next morning and have the “three Ss” (Shit, Shower, Shave, in that necessary order) have breakfast and be okay; like nothing happened. I bought 24 beers for Donovan and I. Donovan couldn’t stay so I don’t know how many I drank but I estimate sixteen. I gave some away for those who ran out. My cooler is still at Chaf’s place.

There are some things I regret, like forgetting conversations I’ve had last night and literally being all over the place. Including the set of “Carlos”. I don’t regret being there, but being there under the influence. I’m “member of the month” for the NB Film Coop and have an image to uphold. I really want to fit in, but drinking excessively shows my insecurity.

I must discipline myself a bit and shape up. I want to be as lean as I was when I was twenty. Ironically have only one picture of my Adonis years. I always wore a T-Shirt and had a ridiculous farmer’s tan. I remember wearing a clinging white T-shirt at clubs and drunken lush ladies would to run their fingers across my abs and chest. I could eat anything then and my metabolism would cleanse itself out after sleeping. Then I would play sports like ball hockey in the afternoon.

My stomach is steel, my lungs titanium, my liver is diamond; I can consume whatever I want but the price is my youth and desire. I shall take back the hunger, the desire to improve my body and mind to its potential. It was easy to maintain my body when did manual labor. Now I sit idle, weary because I don’t nourish myself right and exercise seldom.

I vow by Halloween I will reach my weight loss goals. I’ve been saying it for 2 years but now I’ve written it down for the world to witness my self-promise. I’ll update you with my progress.

Alcohol Dreams

2006-08-06T01:34:00.000-04:00

I love alcohol-induced dreams. Their cryptic messages and arcane meanings are so profound but yet so specific to me. Only my mind could create such an elaborate dream to tell me something. On Thursday night August 3rd, I completed my movie. It had been a year since I started production on Dead Flies. I completed production in December. With such gaps in the schedule, it prolonged my stress. Editing was a long and lonely process too. I spent hours piecing together the footage to only get non-criticism. “Its good!” they all say of the rough cut. OK but tell me what you DON’T like and I’ll fix it!! The end result is awesome. Mike Hayes did and amazing job to put together a great sound edit that complemented the great visuals Wayne Casey took. So at 10pm, I felt I had imposed myself too much already on Tony Merzetti and Cathie Leblanc. I disappeared into the night. I knew if I stayed there and waited for Cathie to shut everything down I would be offered a ride home. They live on the north side and I live in the opposite direction near Prospect Street. I walked out the front doors of the Arts and Learning Center; I took a few side streets to delay my arrival on Regent. For there was a chance if Tony and Cathie would have spotted me they would have still offered me a ride home. Why hurry home? I have no one to tell. In my most victorious hour in months I had no one to share it with.

That is not the point of my story. Let’s fast forward to Friday night. I managed to scrounge a bit of money to go to the clubs. I drank many bottles of Nova Scotia’s finest brew. The prettiest barmaid in any club is always the shooter girl. How can you resist when she asks: “Do you want a Blow Job, Orgasm or Sex on the Beach?” To which I should reply: “All three if you put that tray down!” but I’m never that clever when I’m drunk. I go to bed around 2:30am and dream.

The dream starts with my walk up Regent. I know I can get a cab on King Street where most of the clubs are situated. I remember each step was gratifying, as I had completed my project. That feeling of relief and accomplishment returned to me in the dream. On Thursday night as I turned the corner of Regent and King and headed towards the Mall, a guided walking tour was crossing the street near the church. They are renovating the church so the tourists walked under scaffolding. The guide had a lantern and was entertaining the tour. In my dream however it took a different twist. As I rounded the corner a man picked up a rock and threw it at a second story window. The window smashed and it got the attention of the occupant. The man in the window hollered at the vandal but recognized him. With the man on the street, two topless women jiggled and jumped and waved at the man in the window. The man in the street must have hired two prostitutes to flash the man in the window. Suddenly from behind cargo boxes Tim McDonough jumps up and hollers “Cut!” I had walked in a on a film shoot! I must have walked into Saint John, as I didn’t recognize the buildings anymore. There was a big department store across the street and above it was an apartment complex. The girls ran into the store put on shirts and came back out. I think I included Tim in my dream because I had a wonderful lunch and interview with him on the previous Sunday with Joel Maillet and I saw Tim at the film Coop that Thursday night I finished Dead Flies. I don’t remember the conversation but the girls where back in position and removed their tops for take two. Take Two was really different from the first take. The action focuses on two other actors running down the street and into an alleyway. Then a bunch of extra walked all over the street and it was chaos! Tim called to stop the action and said “I got what I needed, I’ll fix it in post.” “Fix it in post” is a coop member’s inside joke. That’s why you do a scene over and over until the director is satisfied: The less you have to fix later the better. Editing can't fix bad line delivery, continuity errors or out of focus shots.

There are a few things that are relevant to my week in my dream. As I have begun this story with the fear of facing an empty apartment, I must tell you that I visited a certain nightspot on the North Side last week. It’s the only strip club in the area. The women were not drop dead gorgeous but they were women who would approach me and strike a conversation. A few $20s short later, I had their sweaty naked bodies on my mind for days. I can tell fascinating stories and I think the cramped booths felt like a confessional, I poured my heart out and they seemed to care. I am working on my lack of confidence ladies and gents. All of these details in my memory combined with guilt for not being available for Joel’s movie formed a message my subconscious wanted to tell me. There will be more project 'around the corner'; I will be able to deal with the chaos because I’ve been through the process before; Women will notice me and try to hail my attention; because I have dreams... I am a filmmaker!

Long time no blog- and smoking

2006-08-04T19:45:00.000-04:00

What a week!

Canada Post almost made me go postal! Donovan Richard sent me a Priority Mail package on Tuesday morning. It contained not only an audio track fro my movie Dead Flies but a miniDV tape with footage I needed to complete the film. The package arrived Thursday afternoon! 36 freaking hours after they said it was delivered! So I panicked, I thought: "who would want to sabotage me?" Was it a big conspiracy? Did someone delay my cab, pose as an Aliant employee, wait at the door and steal my package Wednesday morning? I could feel Donovan's rage on the other end of our Messenger Software. Donovan is usually careful not to swear, but he wrote many curses toward postal workers. We called the 1-800 number and each agent would lie to us. They didn't know more than we did about the status of our delivery. Wednesday afternoon it still looked like it never left Moncton online! "Oh yes it should be on its way, will be there at 5pm!" BULLSHIT! I got the package Thursday BY REGULAR MAIL! It's in a Priority Mail envelope with a priority mail sticker on it! The right address is written on the bill of lading.

I was so stressed I bought a pack of smokes. I needed to take off the edge. I don't know anyone in Fredericton who sells ... You know. Cigars are okay but they give me wicked head rushes and are expensive. I like Cubans; no Century Sam 3 dollar cheapo for me!

I did smoke a cigar last week, a 15 dollar Cuban. There is something about strolling down King Street with a lit fattie. Disgusting yet distinguished. The sign of a man who does what he wants to do even if it is wrong and unhealthy. It's a character builder, in a sense I've always been a goody two shoes. By exhaling blue toxic smoke, I jump over to the bad side of the fence. I'm a near-sighted James Dean, an Acadian John Wayne, a short Humphey Bogart. With a swagger that says "don't fuck with me!" I watched strangers reactions. I like it. The residual side effects also don't help. Smoking curbs my appetite; I'm shedding unwanted pounds the easy way.

The social implications also don't help. Bumming a light is just a casual way to introduce yourself to the opposite sex outside on the patio. Oh brother, a week in and my pack is almost gone. Do I buy another?

Androids sexy?

2006-07-30T21:52:00.000-04:00

This is a piece I wrote for Here magazine. I hope it will be published in the Aug 10th issue. Don't tell anyone you saw here first!

I just caught Kar Wai Wong’s “2046” on the movie channel. The scene when Fay Wong plays an android in a novel the science fiction writer Cho Mo Wan (Tony Leung Chiu Wai) wrote to convey his feelings for Wang Jin Wen (played by Faye Wong as well) was very captivating. When Tak the main character of the sci-fi story was asked why he wanted to leave 2046, he replied: “I have a secret” He began to tell her about a beautiful legend how when someone has a secret, he would climb a mountain, find a tree and carve a hole in it. Then he would whisper the secret in the hole and cover the hole with mud. The secret would be safe there. The android did an OK sign with her fingers and insisted: “I will be your tree: whisper to me your secret”. As his lips approached her hand to shed his secret, she would coyly move it away. She did this a few times until the circle made by her hand rested in front of her lips. It was forbidden to fall in love with your synthetic cabin attendant, but Tak was compelled to kiss her. In the movie, the author’s metaphor for a forbidden love with a much younger woman was the key to understanding and enjoying 2046.

As a movie aficionado, and novice cyber punk writer, I wondered why androids are so appealing. The most blatant example for a reason to create your own woman was ‘Weird Science’ (1985) when two computer nerds create the woman of their dreams. With hormones raging, every teen male could only hope to build their own insatiable dream date. She turns out too much to handle and her creators must do more damage control for the trouble she causes. Another example that intended to have subservient women to cater to men’s busy life was the “Stepford Wives”. It was a social status thing to have a robotic wife. In a sense Weird Science also elevated Gary and Wyatt’s social status as they became more popular in school. Awkward introductions and doubts about reciprocal feelings are eliminated. With your android, you can program her to love you! Human-android love is possible in film and books. In the movies, you can cast a real woman; in novels, the technology is so advanced you can’t tell the difference, but if it was possible wouldn’t you still have on your conscience that you are making love to nothing more than a talking blow-up doll? In the 2006 Summer Special of Heavy Metal magazine, they featured a story called: “Sky Doll”. Noa is a doll that needs to be winded up every 33 hours with a key. She escapes her owner with her key and stows away in Roy and Jahu mercenary ship. She later strikes a bond with Roy, gives the young outlaw the key and professes: “I depend on you from now on, OK?” There is a certain strange dependency between androids and their master or creator. They have the source of their life and they can provide it in exchange for the android’s love.

Blade Runner was about Replicants (androids) seeking to get away from that dependency. They were dying and used excessive force to get someone to expand their life. Deckard (Harrison Ford) was hired to find the rogue replicants and stop them. Another common theme in android stories is that they seek to be human. They are humanoid beings that have developed feelings and desires to survive, love and experience. If the human race is capable someday of creating living androids and they develop desires to be us, they may desire to replace us. If they have desires, they will make choices to satisfy their needs. When an android needs love, what guarantee do you have it will love you? When Dr. Frankenstein made the ‘Bride of Frankenstein’, the grotesque Frankenstein Monster repulsed her. Her shriek is one of the most memorable scenes in film. While you may argue his bride was not an android but a human reanimated from the dead, the key elements are still present: She needed the mad doctor to give her life, she was created to satisfy a companionship need and she made a conscious decision to rebel against her creator and suitor. With all the talk about genetic enhancements and bio-robotic technology, are we just heading for a “Terminator” world where obsolete humans will be hunted down? A robotic world where love and compassion no longer exist, just survival of the fittest or the most genetically advanced. I guess men will have to learn to live with women who have there own thoughts, who are not complacent and programmed to cater to his every need, and who are not entirely dependant on him. We may be able to create sexy androids someday, but we will never be able to replicate an intimate moment with a real woman.

Legends of Big D

2006-07-26T19:52:00.000-04:00

My whole family is going camping this weekend. I have no tolerance for camping anymore. I would rather sleep in my comfy bed without worry mosquitoes will eat me alive. But there was a time I use to be keen on camping. I had a small two-man tent with a queen size air mattress. Since my early twenties, I’ve developed an intolerance for clothes when I go to bed. No socks, no PJs, no undies. Of course under the influence of a few (eighteen) beer, I retired to my tent one Fundy Park adventure and strip down to nothing. I woke up at three am with the urge to pee; I poked my head out of the tent and listened. Not a peep was heard. Even my most alcohol tolerant companion had gone to bed. Then again averaging sixteen beer per night, I think I was setting the bar. (One year, four of us drank 125 beers in two days to celebrate Canada's birthday)

Not wanting to get dressed and undress again and still not able to make a rational decision, I emerged from my tent au natural. I found a dingle (a wooded area!) behind my tent. The campground washrooms are directly downhill from where I’m standing. After a satisfying bladder unloading, I notice a flashlight beam coming from the ladies washroom! “No panic” I thought, I will just stand still until the twilight toilet user passes by. “The woods are thick enough to go unnoticed.” I say as I shake off the drip. Her path never veered away and the flashlight kept coming forward. To make matters worst, she had a German Shepard dog on a leash! I looked just ahead and there was a SMALL TRAIL THROUGH THE WOODS for a shortcut to the campsites up the hill! The flashlight kept going straight, but the dog must have felt my presence and started to bark loudly! Gee could it have smelled my fresh puddle of urine? The young lady turned her flashlight towards the source of her dog’s alarm and found a naked man pretending to be a tree and making no attempt to cover up! Still too drunk to say anything intelligent, I mumbled an apology. What can you say in a situation like that? “Excuse me, does your campsite have a fire pit?”

She ran up the path pulling her dog. I guess that was lucky because it would have been a bad situation to get mauled by a dog in the nude. I sobered up instantly and ran to my tent and hid under my sleeping bag. I heard the posse she alerted investigating the path but it was too obvious the nearest campsite belonged to the campground streaker. The next morning I got up at seven and was packed and ready to leave by eight.

I am 35!

2006-07-22T14:42:00.000-04:00

I made an important discovery today that confirms my individuality and that its ok to like something others don't. I bought on Amazon.com a week ago the re-release of the Power Station on CD. The Power Station features the raw sexual lyrics of Robert Palmer; Andy and John Taylor, brothers from Duran Duran on bass and lead guitars; and Tony Thompson on drums. They got together at Bernard Edwards studio on 53rd street in New York (The Power Station, hence the name!) This one time collaboration instantly hit a cord with me. As a 13 yrs old earning cash working on the farm in the summer, this was the first "cassette" I bought on my own. (Remember cassette people? It was that new thing that replaced vinyl albums. What's vinyl you young people ask?...ah forget it!) Anyway Robert Palmer was hot in the 80's and 90's with hits like: "Simply Irresistible" "Addicted to Love", "I Didn't Mean To Turn You On" (I won a karaoke contest singing this song! hehe) and "Mercy Mercy Me (I want you)" is one of my favorites; but "Some Like It Hot" blew me away! Get it On (Bang a Gong) was the Power Station's interpretation of a T-Rex 70's hit.

Other lesser-known tunes still resonate in my head like "Murderess" and "Communication" but the cover art is pretty eye catching. I must have been holding the cassette label upside down because I didn't get it then. How could I have missed there was a topless electric dancer on the cover! I soon got it as the age of music video was in its infancy and the cartoon dancer cavorted on my TV set… The beat and the lyrics spellbound me. “Don’t be so circumscribed… Are you going to do it?” (I had to look it up, it means: “don’t be a wuss!”
Still the Power Station invited me to listen to not only English Pop Rock but Jazz, Blues, and to acquire a taste for alternative music later on. Today I have an eclectic taste for music ranging from Kenny Wayne Sheppard Band to Godsmack.

Whoa... deep quote!

2006-07-21T14:20:00.000-04:00

I have to write it down!

Quote on my leadership style: "When I speak, people don't listen; but when I do, people follow."

Dennis- Fun Dictator of the World.

I'm baccck!

2006-07-20T16:13:00.000-04:00

Long time no bitching. I've been practicing flash writing. It's amazing! PEI is great as always. Wish I could travel there under happier circumstances. So relaxing! maybe Labor Day Weekend or something I'll rent a car and go.

Seems to me traveling should be a shared experience... I feel a "I'm so lonesome rant" coming so I'll shut up.

Dainty farts

2006-07-18T14:46:00.000-04:00

I have to take a bus to PEI today to go to a funeral. My godfather passed away last night. One of the last few times I took a bus, a tall blonde woman sat next to me. I had just bought a ‘How to Learn Japanese Phrases’ book and it was indeed a great conversation starter. She told me she was studying to be a nutritionist in Moncton. She also mentioned she had a ‘boyfriend’ early in the conversation so I knew I made a good impression. But as strangers who got all the formalities out of the way, we often had long pauses of silence. Then that unmistakable odor hit my nose. It wasn’t me either! It didn’t smell that bad but it was vegetable- smelling, like baby carrot poo. I was sprayed with vegan gas!

So just remember guys: no matter how pretty she is, she can emit odors from her butt. Don’t let her beauty intimidate you. She farts just like you!

Belly Dancing? Part 2

2006-07-18T08:05:00.000-04:00

I've been asked a lot for a demonstration since I declared I took Siobhan’s Belly Dancing class. The answer is NO! And I will describe why in graphic detail to conjure up ghastly images in your head. Luckily her class was for beginners. As one hip rised, the other went down, all while you keep your center still. With me so far? The act of doing that, certain appendages found the nook between my thighs to slide into. Right hip up, left ball squished. Left hip up, right ball squished. The exercises were meant for an introduction to belly dancing, so we were going slow. If I ignored that my scrotum was my legs’ punching bag, I could keep up; but then there is the friction factor. We switched routines often; which is good because some bordered on handless masturbation. After a while, my one eyed otter would awaken and I would have no control over it! Any faster and my very own organic liquids would splatter all over and I would have never been allowed in the Underground Café or the Arts and Learning Center ever again! I need my NB Film Coop fix; that must never happen!

It was a one time thing and an experience I’ll likely won’t forget soon. Belly Dancing in its purest form has had a bad rap. It is one of the oldest dances still practiced and it is a thing of beauty when you see a performer who has mastered it . The misconception is that it is an erotic dance, it is, but so much more than that. Speaking of erotic dances, I was once offered $100 to dance at a bachelorette party last year. It had only been a month since my knee surgery and I was still in a brace, on crutches. I had to decline. Now a year later, my knee is fully recovered… and I know belly dancing! Ante up girls for the Full Monty!

Belly Dancing?

2006-07-17T23:25:00.000-04:00

e-mail addresses were removed to protect the users' privacy

Hey Dennis,

Here's the pic of you and your belly dancing instructor. Good luck with the lessons!

Biff

On 7/17/06, >Biff Mitchell wrote:
Hey Dennis,The blog looks great! I'll send the pic of you with your belly dancing instructor after work. Gia ... congrats on the Gleaner article and the screening in California. Biff

On 7/17/06, Dennis > wrote:
Contrats to you too! (Saturday's Gleaner pic)Biff Mitchell has encouraged me to blog so our "media coverage" will be up there tonight! lol http://dennispoirier.blogspot.com/I'm hoping my blog will create traffic on redleafproductions.com I have so much to say including why I took a Belly Dancing class on Wednesday. It's one of those spur of the moment things I needed to experience because if I inhibit myself, I can't grow as a writer and artist. I spent a lot of time in the past being afraid to "do", not taking action. If I want to be an actor I have to relax an not take myself too seriously, be silly!

We ran into Siobhan during the Culture Crawl and Biff has a picture. (may I get that pic Biff?)

Dennis

>> From: "Gia " > Date: 2006/07/17 Mon AM 09:06:51 EST> To: "Dennis"
>> Subject: Hey Dennis
>> Great photo in today's Gleaner of you! Super!!! Congrats!
> :)
> Gia>

Simon Hunter

2006-07-17T22:14:00.000-04:00

I'm involved in everything in Fredericton aren't I? I drank my face off all week with writers. On Friday, the sun was scorching, it was a tiring day. Nevertheless, I never been the kind to pass up a beer drinking opportunity! We ended up at Nicky Z's. Draft beer was cheap. Around midnight, we had enough and I walked Biff's party back to UNB residence. The pirate poet Steve was eating leftovers and the party goers soon followed suit. Close to 1am I decided to head out to catch a cab at the nearest club. I got home and I expected the usual messages from my nephew, but three phone calls from Michel Guitard's mom Denise? Each message got progressively worried. "Dennis, its Midnight: were are you?" "Dennis its 1 am: Call us when you get in!!!" So I called back and apparently the last shot they wanted to get Friday was my character, the evil janitor, getting spotted by the police lying on the ground after a severe beating. Denise informed me she will send someone to get me when they wrap the other scene. I passed out on the couch, more out of exhaustion than drunkenness. The call came at around 2am to get ready. Krista gave me a beating... Well she applied the makeup to make it look like a beating, and I laid in the damp grass for a few takes. My acting wasn't a stretch as I was 'dead tired'!

Here I am in my stalking-little-girls best outfit. (for reference to people who don't know me, I DON'T STALK LITTLE GIRLS! I'M ACTING! )

In the news!

2006-07-17T21:39:00.000-04:00

Wow!

Once again Meghan Cumby makes me look good! Even with my 'Big Lebowski' shorts on, I still managed to look good! Great job again Meghan! I wrote a little article in Here about "They Didn't Make It". Now when anyone googles Joel and "They Didn't Make It" my little article hits the top 10!

Try it... really, try it! The more you look it up, the more the my ranking goes up and the Fredericton Joel Thompson will be numero one... on Google and our hearts! hehe

I look good in film lighting!

2006-07-16T16:02:00.000-04:00

I remember the day late last year when Meghan Cumby took that picture. My dark wavy hair and stupendous boyish charms was somehow not the reason why, but she looked a little razzled to me that day. I later learned she had a ton of assignments and exams to prepare for. My petty little movie was an inconvenience to cover for Here magazine. She did snap a decent picture of my evil mug, and really did a good job putting together the interview, but I didn't thank her. No e-mail, no nothing, I'm such an ignoramus. I see her name in the Daily Gleaner often now and she still does work for Here.

Meghan came to the parking garage to interview Joel Thompson for "They Didn't Make It" on Tuesday July 11th. I saw a different confident young lady introduce herself to the cast and crew and I couldn't be happier for her and wish her the best in her journalism career. While I write about stupid movies, Meghan writes about real current events. See for yourself in Here's archives

Oh by the way Meghan ... Thank you !

What took me so long?

2006-07-16T15:04:00.000-04:00

I'm Dennis and this is my blog. I can't believe I haven't been lured to this before now. I was at the Maritimes Writer's Workshop and saw the potential of a blog in Biff Mitchell's Cyber Punk (Science Fiction) group. We were the misfits of the week long program, however it was in a beneficial way because I never met as many clever and social writers in my entire life! Aren't writers supposed to be recluses who retreat to cabins in the wilderness for months to finish their novels? Aren't poets suppose to be artsy-fartsy types who bend their noses upwards because you don't understand prose? As of this day, this week, this entire experience, I have a better appreciation towards the people who seek to communicate to the world who they are and the words they choose to write.