Hollow-een

Why dress up as something I'm not for Halloween when I already dress up everyday?

Go to sleep, everything is alright.

I'm finding it increasingly harder--harder and harder--to differentiate between reality and dreams. It's troubling in a non-crazy way. I swear, completely non-crazy. It just makes memory recall, a bitch. It must be the stress of my day-to-day life. Not stress, like stress, but stress as a static fluidity to my schedule. First came the vacation and then the next term and then vacation again and then again another term and then again the vacation. It was like a train going in and out of tunnels. Term, vacation; tunnel, out; noise, stop. The constant media inputs do not help. They make all the dreams that much worse. It's like a repeat of my day. But the realization of this only comes at the dawn. Like two different versions of the same thing, a troubling rashomon of my past. There are the events as they really happened; there are the events as I remember them, and; there are the events as I dream them. The first two are to be expected. The object and the subject of everyday occurrence that all experience. But in the third--a terrifying simulacra exists. This unreal representation is standard discourse to start, the seams are visible, I can see the strings, but as I move farther away, I fall into this artifice of eternity. The line between the mirror and mirrored becomes increasingly blurred as certain details of the simulacrum attach themselves to eidetic. And frequently, as a result, I find myself asking, Did this really happen? or, Did I dream it? It's usually just the small things. I try not to fret the small things. But what if everything is small. And what if I like the dream version better? Its too bad all these things can only happen in my dreams, only in dreams, in beautiful dreams.

Replica Ponchos I Would Buy

I don't want to look like a dick, but those Clint Eastwood westerns by Sergio Leone (A Fistful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars More, and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly) are totally badass. I don't know how coincidental it is that he is wearing this poncho in all three. The poncho by association is a badass signifier. But who wears ponchos... only if it was this one. Replicas available for purchase here.

The MaRS Simulacrum

The MaRS Centre currently occupies the Heritage Building, a former wing of Toronto General Hospital located at 101 College Street. The MaRS Centre is the center for the MaRS Discovery District, a not-for-profit medical research corporation, MaRS once being a backronym for Medical and Related Sciences.
This forward-thinking association and this brownstone, only fit when you consider that behind the facade that is the MaRS signage: a sheet of fake brick print containing the MaRS logo is steel. The wind will peel this layer away, revealing the MaRS is not quite what it appears to be, an uncanny display that questions the reality of the cityscape, but becoming a hyperreal truth in its own right.