Calling the Transatlantic Rescue Squad!

The Brit begins another long commute home, after a hard day at work. All he wants is his nice warm bed, or perhaps a nice cold pint. But his daydreams are interrupted by a noise. An annoying noise. A tinny, annoying, irritating noise...

No! It can't be! Evil Loud Music Chav Girl! Being able to hear somebody else's music while stuck in a train carriage is the Brit's Kryptonite. It turns him from a mild-mannered, rather pleasant young man into a slobbering, growling, rage-filled beast, like this:That can't be allowed to happen - he can't control his powers when in Rage-Beast form. He quickly summons his superhero support group. Within minutes, the Yank arrives, accompanied by her faithful companion, Goat Man.

They immediately set about drowning out Evil Loud Music Chav Girl's offensive tunes with some excellent songs of their very own invention. The Brit feels the rage begin to subside. Meanwhile, the Canuck has arrived and his doing her very best to avert the disaster that would ensue should the Rage Beast appear in the enclosed space that is a tube train.

She...erm...floats through the carriage, spreading cinnamon hearts and, aided by her sidekick Yoga Cat, restores the mob of angry commuters into the group of polite, quiet and ever so British individuals they started the journey as.

"WELL DONE TASG!" The Brit cries joyfully, relieved that his evil alter ego will not be revealed. "Come, I owe you both a pint, seeing as you did, like, fly across the Atlantic to stop me kicking off."

And so they went to the pub, which Evil Loud Music Chav Girl could not enter as she had no ID.

DISCLAIMER: Allison & Lauren: I can't draw, so please don't take offence at my doodles. Rest assured you look nothing like the above. The 'art' tag is meant to be ironic. Allison: I'm unsure as to why you've adopted such a Christ-like pose. Lauren: I apologise for your outfit, and hope you don't mind me drawing Goat Man.

Also, Yoga Cat is in the pub picture, you may not be able to see him. I didn't want you to think I didn't buy him a drink, too. He's in the bottom left corner of the window.

Tune into Friday's edition of the Transatlantic SUPERHERO Group (see what I did there?), brought to you by the Yank.

I...I Will Be King

Harry Potter: My Literary Hero

This is not an easy post to write. Like Allison, I find heroes hard to find in a culture that celebrates fame for fame's sake, and catapults so many barely talented people into stardom when they've hardly had to lift a finger. I couldn't think of anyone who I really look up to,
every pro had a con.

My mind kept wandering to biblical passages about worshipping false idols, or the heroes of classical civilisation, ancient definitions of heroism and out-dated reasons to respect.

So in a world with no Spartans, where vacuous, talentless individuals are placed on pedestals, where is the heroism? Who is there to respect? Politicians lie, footballers behave like children and celebrities fall apart in spectacular fashion, right in front of your eyes.

But I didn't lose hope, for once, because there are people I respect and look up to. There are people who display traits I'd love to have. They're just not famous. It's the people who have the guts to split up fights they're not involved in. Or who buy homeless people a cuppa rather than awkwardly avoiding their gaze or throwing them some loose change. Journalists who quit their jobs - despite the skin chances of finding a new one - because they disagree with the messages they are paid to put across.

So I've decided to give up trying to find a celeb worthy of my admiration. I'll save it for people who go out of their way for others, or those who face hardship and difficulty but still won't compromise when doing what's right. These are the traits I'd want in a hero, and sadly (or so it seems) traits that are lacking in today's legions of celebrities.

I totally have Bonnie Tyler stuck in my head now.

Pale is the New Tan

My cat is my hero.

As I lay on my bed typing my Macbook is glowing it's little apple symbol into my dimly lit room. Broken Social Scene band shirt on, comfortable blue jeans, hair still damp from the shower...a lingering cough from last week's illness. I'm here to write my Transatlantic Support Group post...I feel so uninspired. Who inspires me? Who do I look up to? It's so hard being a 20-something these days. All these plastic pop stars and stupid girls on Teen Mom are famous and we're left to wonder who we're supposed to look up to.

I came up with this idea late last night...that this week we should write about who our idols are. Who inspires us.

Some of my choices are so, so very white and Hipster-ish. A lot of them are authors.

1) Dave Eggers - When I read A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius in High School I knew I wanted to write, but also knew I would never be able to write as well as that. I really took to creative writing after reading his second book, You Shall Know Our Velocity. He changed my perception of what a book *should* be.

2) Douglas Coupland - Overtime Coupland became a bigger influence to me than Eggers - maybe just because he publishes more often. I feel like Coupland's novels do two things really well: 1) They speak to the experiences of young people and 2) They give a sense of what it's really like to be a modern Canadian in the city - it's not always about canoeing and moose.

3) David Sedaris - I am inspired by his humour and honesty as a writer. He writes about himself without being boastful - in fact his self-deprecating style is what makes him so special. He's the reason I've been more interested in personal narrative style writing lately. I strive for this type of writing sometimes in my blog.

4) Christina Hendricks - In the world of Mad Men, you're either a Jackie or a Marilyn...or a Joan. I want to be a Joan...or at least a Christina. She makes me proud to have curves. I want to wear a pencil skirt and bright lipstick and dye my hair red. I have a bit of a girl-crush on her. Whenever she's on the cover of a magazine I buy it.

5) Leslie Feist - I want to be Feist. I love her voice, her talent, her humble nature. Unfortunately the only thing we have in common is our hairstyle.

It's time to curl up in bed with a good book - maybe make some tea. Have a good one!

And Tom, there's really nothing I would rather do, I'm happy just to blog with you :) See you Wednesday (hopefully).