spin doctor

spin doctor

Breathe, Lindsay, breathe… in, out, in, out…

Okay, that’s better… is it really? Am I on the verge of another stint of faking it!?!

You may have just red, I mean read: ending… if you haven’t, I kindly ask you to take the time to do so now.

I didn’t edit the first version of the consumption of the above word because it stands for understanding, and life at the same time… it also, when it flows externally, stains the earth, bringing death and completion, until it clots, hardens and it’s washed away. Replaced eventually by the pain of another participant in the life experiment. Both versions share similar traits if you look close enough --- vital to tomorrow and tomorrow and every tomorrow after that.

Anyway, I’d really appreciate it if you read ending now. It’s part of the letting you, whomever you may be, in. Thank you!

Spin doctor: this chapter, segment, post, diatribe, personal rambling, and search for understanding is the aftermath of another shattering experience. It is also an experiment, you see, I’m clocking this inclusion… fifteen minutes max, starting with a big red GO. Fifteen minutes to spin the heartache of ending into something positive. Complete with one picture that to me shares beauty, and has its eyes on the future. Maybe you’ll see it, too.

Anyway:

GO

It’s 6:52 now and I’m going to blast this off in the next fifteen minutes and try to find some silver lining in the remnants of heartache.

Why am I doing this? Why am I sharing this with you? Letting you in? Leaving myself open to judgment, while at the same time leaving myself vulnerable?

I don’t know… I think it is part of the life process. A way for me to grow. A way to share with you hurt and pain… and, in the end of it all, maybe letting you in to show you that I will survive and I will eventually be alright. Maybe I’m lying. Maybe I’m just kidding myself and I’m just the greatest con artist of all time and my mark, is me.

After reading the first portion of this wordiness, you may think I’m lost and not capable of sensible thoughts. Maybe I’m not. Last Sunday, Saturday when you really think about it, my life bombarded me with emotion. Saturday, I went out and for a lack of a better term, got wrecked. Messed up… Sunday, in my state of toxic destruction… everything from the last four years of family shit took me out and placed me on this perilous ledge where I thought I was going to die. I truly believed my heart was about to stop... seriously! I think for a brief moment --- it may have.

Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to take my own life, or do I want to… I had just overindulged in escaping and left myself precariously close to destruction. I let everything that society, well, that mostly I, was suppressing, and placed it on my shoulders --- letting it crush me and bring me down. I’d been experimenting with positive thought for the last several weeks ---- nothing negative was allowed in, “I’m an amazing man, who’ll have a positive impact on the world and I will live a life filled with love, health, happiness and prosperity,” played on one continuous loop.

I even faked happiness by continuing to be my bizarre wacky self. Must entertain others, keep the mood light ---- it’s who I am. Doesn’t matter that I said hello and goodbye to my father in the same month.

And unbelievably, even when I try to keep mine, and those around me, spirits from falling, I'm met with, "Michael told me you're full of useless information." Despite of his knowledge of the emotional plank my life is balancincg on. A sad example of another human trying to discount life and destroy personality... again, being marginal. I feel sorry for those who diminish others.

Just think: Elmer, in ending, wasn’t my father, and he wanted to be. How brilliant is that!?!

Perhaps that is all that I need... to know I've impacted another, as he did me, to the point where without confirmation of red (blood ties), he'd be honored to assume the role! Now the challenge: convincing myself I'm worthy.

You may think sharing is self-indulgent and the purpose of web journals? A way for families to stay in touch, share pictures of the lake, of happiness, of trying to sell good times?

Sure, I guess that’s part of it… is that really life, or just the selling of good times? The selling of a fantasy?

For me sharing is about letting others in. It is about being vulnerable… we don’t learn from each other in the good times. They’re too easy. In a sense: substance less.

To me: we grow when we are served up difficulty. When we want to turn and run away. If we run… we shrivel up and become marginal and lifeless. If we allow the pain in with all of it’s associated hope, dark thoughts, and the struggle to survive and assign meaning… we’ll grow. Our lives will be enriched and we’ll become beacons of hope for all others searching for love and understanding.

To me: if we hide behind heartache… sure, others will smile with you, however, when you truly need them… they’ll likely vanish into thin air. Tough times define friendship and love. I’m loved. Without pain… I’d never know for sure.

I’ve got seven minutes left, six… it’s time to spin. To find the positive from four, forty-seven years of lies. Well, where do I begin without sounding too egotistical?

Fuck that! I need my your support, if you know me, you’ve seen my humbleness, and you’ll understand that I need to be lifted from the hurt. If you try to quash me: fuck you!

Okay, spin: I am an amazing guy… I’ve faced a plethora of bizarre challenges and although at times they get the best of me, I find a way to rise up and move on. Maybe a little weighed down, but I can handle the weight for the most part.

I’m good to others… always. I make the odd mistake with that, however, I try, and I’m cognizant of my errors.

Two minutes left. I don’t blame. I love… unfortunately, I’m a bit afraid of being loved back. I want to make a difference. I’m passionate about life… I want those around me to be as well. Actually, everyone.

One minute. I share. Why is that important?

Winding it down. Cause, I’m a bit of a guinea pig. Life can be destructive, it can bring bitterness, it can defeat us and lead us down dark paths where getting up is nearly impossible. If it’s kicked me in the junk as many times as it has and I can rise… hey, I’m not feeling sorry for myself, and I can claw my way back up. So can you! Get up. Tomorrow is coming, along with whatever it may bring ---and every life is a fascinating story that needs to be embraced and cherished…

Just about out of time… love life, love others, if we do, regardless of what is brought our way, we’ll all be making our world a better place!

I may be broken, but I love… and I've even made love during one of my lowest points.

Making love is beuatiful, breath-taking, exilarating, messy, and if in its completion, when you're spent and covered in... a new begining.

Just remember if it ends with a towel, it's not true love!

ending

ending

Friday, November 2nd 2007

“Hello, Elmer, it’s Lindsay, from Vancouver.”

I just had to make this call, somehow the responsibility has fallen upon me and it’s important, to me, to Elmer, and for my growth and survival. I’m shaking, trembling, really. I’ve been welling-up and crying a lot in the past few days, years when I give it some thought. You can’t possibly prepare for a call like this. I’ve made many before that shared threads of absurdity with this one, but none quite match it’s finality.

I’ve made the, “you must come home soon, it doesn’t look good, dad won’t last much longer,” call. They never made it in time… myself, my brother, Brian, and, my mother, watched his last gasp. Collapsing was desired --- faking strength was my ruse.

Following up death of course consisted of the countless, “my fathers gone,” calls. Those were made on the day after my twenty-fifth birthday. Friends rallied and helped the recovery process.

Unfortunately, I made the same “come home soon,” call, just over a year later. This time, mom. They didn’t make it this time either… not while she was coherent at least, and again the trauma ripped me apart. Faking strength once again was my script.

After mom, the family splintered and I was for the most part left solo to sort things out and pick up the pieces. Fortunately, friends, not family, raised my spirits and helped me move on.

The demise of mom & dad should have launched a starting point of love and support, a point of solidarity for the seven children, including me (the youngest), where bonds strengthen and we look out for each others well-being, however, unless I missed something, we splintered apart. At least from my perspective. Home base and a place of belonging, safety, and love, invisible… maybe it was just because, I was the youngest?

Nah… we simply just divided and I was removed from the inclusion of family. Friends became my solace, family began to disappear and pass judgment. Actually, judgment sounds wonderful, they, the family, my three older brothers and sisters, simply just pushed erase, and I was no longer acknowledged. Any semblance of home… no more.

So what do you do?

You cry. Often.

You long. For a place of belonging. A place where you matter, to someone.

You long some more. For each years celebrated days to regain meaning… for someone to want you without the fear of them leaving. But you have trouble letting anyone in --- too close, cause you know they’re just going to jump ship as soon as your heartache takes away from their happiness. They’ll want to love you, and do, but the weight of your pain, despite of everything brilliant you may offer, is too much… so they go. Each time they do… you come closer to alone. Tears continue to flow. You want them to stop.

So, you rely. On friends, for support, and meaning. Some resist, they don’t understand. Their parents are still alive… they still have a home. They have no reference. They usher you away slowly. Pushing really. They weren’t really friends to begin with. The true ones stay… they don‘t try to understand, they just love you. You’re afraid they’ll leave. And thus, you cry some more. Sometimes the tears makes sense, at others the reasons escape you. The reasons are in a thick fog and your brain feels heavy, numb, actually. The tears stop. Only on the outside.

Life goes on… sixteen years pass and you find out by accident that you weren’t the only one acting, pretending to be something you weren’t, this time it wasn’t faking strength, this time your whole family is caught in a lie… everything changed, after a period in life where everything had been changing daily already... side stories for another time.

“Jim, I know the truth, it’s devastating… the family let me ride a life changing roller coaster ending in death, and they weren’t my parents… I would have got on for the ride anyway, but… somebody needed to tell me, it’s my life.” You calmly stated, tears now flowing internally…

The response, you’re no longer the little brother, the family collective wants to keep up the charade, you can’t, everyone’s roles have changed. Your parents have come back to life. One was part of the lie, she wasn’t good to you. You’re real father, a mystery.

A desire burns inside, you need to know something about him, about where you began, a stranger tracks him down. You speak for the first time (on the phone), eighteen years after you watched him die. The conversation is not rehearsed and starts with trembling, quivering, and simply, “Hello you may be my father.” He’s a good man. He doesn’t judge. He’s sorry. You fake strength again. You fall apart when the call ends.

Two years pass, nothing, the wonderful sentiment of the call is lost, it must’ve been too much for him to handle. You long for closure --- but you understand the difficulty the bombshell has inflicted upon him. You give up.

Your dear friends, few, that’s okay, that is after all where life deposits us, look out for you, without condition. You still fear losing them, because your script is consuming and relentless. They stay. You can’t express your love and appreciation enough.

You try to run. You can’t. You try to hide. There is no one to hide from. Calls from family, to the baby brother, remain silent. The scars cut deeper with each tick of the clock. You remain positive, but your not sure if you can. You escape with humor. Fortunately, you’re funny.

The last glimmer of family is gone… you cope. You’ve been informed your mother is dying again. Guilt is dumped. “Are you going to fix things with your mother before she dies?” The message is sent by e-mail.

You cry. She won’t even admit she’s your mother… all you did was be born.

An invitation arrives: Uncle Lindsay we’d love you to come to our wedding.

You want to --- you realize, you can’t. A wedding is not the place to meet your dying mother for the first time --- and reconnect with a family who choose to abandon you. You remain strong. Maybe it’s weak? --- you struggle with emotion.

The pressure grows. “Are you coming? Are you coming? Are you coming?” You avoid for as long as you can, until you can’t delay no longer. You draft a message:

Hello Robyn

Yes, I received the invitation.

Not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about your wedding. I’m incredibly excited for you and wish you and Scott the best for now and the years to come. You’re an amazing young woman and I’m positive that you and Scott will build a fantastic life together.

As for coming to the wedding --- it pains me, but I don’t feel that it would be the best thing for your special day. Not coming has weighed heavy on my heart, however, I don’t think that I would be emotionally able to handle the side-drama that would unfold on that day.

Sweetie, my life has changed dramatically and I know for many of the others, nothing may have changed in their minds, but for me --- everything has. I hope you understand that. There is much more to this than I’m revealing here, stuff that I have to come to terms with on my own.

I’m sad that I won’t be able to attend and I send the both of you my love.

Much Love

Lindsay

You cry some more. The precise moment you’re about to hit send, and in a sense, close the book on a family that wasn’t interested in you --- a message appears on the screen:

Hi There,

My name is Tanya and I am writing on behalf of my Uncle Elmer. Elmer would like to be in contact with you. Please call him at home at ******** or on his cell at ********.

Best Regards,

Tanya

PS E-mail me back if I have the right e-mail address or not.

Thank you

Tanya

You still hit send on the first message. Then you reply to this new request. Within days you speak to your father again. It’s easy. It’s emotional. It’s wonderful. He wants you. He makes no excuses. A relationship picks up where it started two years ago.

He’s going to come to see you… he’s seventy-two and had lost your number, technology is not his friend, your number was on his cell, the cell was lost. He tells you the last years had been tough on him, if he has another son, it’s time to step up to the plate. He apologizes frequently --- we seem to be connected.

Months pass… I start to breakdown. He told me he was coming soon. Nothing, silence. Is this a cruel joke?

My mind is consumed with the meeting. I want to remain silent, instead, I share my excitement, “My fathers coming. My fathers coming…” He’s suddenly no longer coming. Until, I phone him… he’s been working up north and he’ll come out and see me once the work is done. He wants to see me! More conversations --- the bond grows stronger. I cry some more --- over lost time. So many years.

One Monday, he calls and leaves a message: “Lindsay, this is Elmer, I’m leaving Calgary now, I’ll be in Vancouver in a couple of days.” I shake when I hear it. I go for long walks and I can’t control the tears. I cry for my father who died. I cry for my mother who died. I cry for my mother who came back to life and closed her doors and resisted her role. And, I cry, about life… I’m broken, excited, confused, alone.

The past won’t leave me be, it keeps charging at me --- I’m so lost, I’m meeting my seventy-two father for the first time, and he’s excited to see me. My real mother, cast me aside, not without verbally undressing me, “you’ll never amount to much” --- “you’ll never be as good as your older brothers and sisters” --- “you’ll end up a failure” --- “Lindsay who?” Her words from my past, haunt me. I never understood --- how could she be my mother. My real father wants me!

The day finally comes, I waited in my car in a restaurants parking lot, there’s a knock on my door, “Lindsay are you going to sit in here all day?” He smiles. I was meeting my father for the first time.

He’s brought a friend… that’s okay, I understood this must be amazing for him as well. First up, we get tested, swabs, DNA. A formality. Our relationship grows, somehow we skip small talk and focus more on life and our journey. We share similar personality traits. He’s a good man. So am I.

Formality completed, we sit down to eat. The first meal with my father. We talk of life, love, family, our futures and what lies ahead. The connection is strong. He likes me! He wants to be my father! A pause, and he tells his lady friend, “I told you he’s a brilliant man. Positive. Strong. I’m proud.” I hid my tears. He wants to be my father!

It’s time to part company. In the parking lot I look into his eyes and thank him. He reached for my hand --- we embraced instead. He was touched by the gesture. I hugged my father for the first time in my life.

“Lindsay, you’re a good man. I’m honored to be your father. I want this. I want it for you --- for me. Before it’s confirmed, I want you to know that, I’m sorry. We can start fresh then.” As he left… the tears began to flow. He wants to be my dad --- my last memory will no longer be of his last breath of life.

Two weeks pass, the formality and confirmation is taking forever. I’m restless. I’m going crazy. I push and pressure the lab for the results. They respond with coldness --- the painful wait continues.

Finally, the results are ready. It was Wednesday --- two weeks after our meeting. I rushed to pick them up, and then, surprisingly, I can’t look. Hours pass…. I still can’t look. I know the results… I know it’s a formality. After a day goes by I know I need to close the chapter and start whatever is next, a friend gently presses me into moving forward. I tell him I need to do this alone, he says, “not a good idea.” His words were without condition.

Another hour and he’s right. In front of his shop, I open the results…

I’m lost and as we wind our way back to the starting point of this chapter, it’s now Friday, I’ve just finished my morning work… and it was time to make a call. To thank a great man for his love and support. For his attitude. For wanting me.

“Hello, Elmer, it’s Lindsay, from Vancouver.”

He’s excited to hear my voice. “Lindsay, how are you? It’s good to hear from you.”

“Well…” I paused… caught my breath “…I got the results.” Spit it out --- the tears began to flow. “Unfortunately…” I wasn’t holding up well. “…unfortunately, for me, it’s not a happy ending.” I couldn’t stop crying. “You’re not my father. Thank you for everything. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done. I’m so sorry to have put you through so much. I’m sorry.” And, then I just broke down.

He wasn’t relieved. His voice cracked --- filled with emotion. He wanted to be my father! He’s not. It’s not a happy ending. The lie continues.

On Thursday, November 7th 2007, my father died for the second time. This time: he wanted me!

I’m not sure if I can go through this again, however, I’m not sure if I get to make that choice.

***What you’ve just digested is a true story. It’s part of my life, a very painful and recent part. This is the first version of the story and it will be included in some form or other in a future publication.

You may ask why would I share something so personal?

Simply because I believe it may be helpful to anyone who is struggling with family life --- if I can survive… you can for sure. At least you can say: I’m not that guy.

Many hugs.

Be happy!

(stay tuned for the next chapter)

Mr. & Mrs. Wallace become parents!

Congrats... Kev & Dina!

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We'd like to extend a huge congratulations to Kevin & Dina who've just been blessed with a healthy baby girl, Tessa Mia Wallace.

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Tessa was born Saturday September 22, 2007 at 4:55 AM, weighing 7lbs 3oz.

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Traditionally this would be a time when a slight roasting would be in order, however, the emotinal sap side of me is showing up and I wish them all the best, of course even if I roasted, I'd still be wishing them all the best. I'm certain they will be amazing parents!

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Anyway, congrats Kev, Dina and to all of those in the extended family!

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We'll soon return to our regularily scheduled programming

Minding the gap

Minding the gap

by Lindsay Wincherauk

What happened?

We have security guards in our grocery stores protecting the food.

We have police officers impersonating journalists so that they can arrest anti-poverty activists who use intimidation tactics and vandalism to push their agenda.

Gentrification of the DTES has begun a process where the pain and suffering of addiction, consequence, and neglect, has started to spread throughout the city to the point where you can't walk through any park, at least in the downtown core, without literally stepping over bodies. The body count continues on the street during a simple journey to the store as people are sleeping on the sidewalks all over town. A man with his hand out opens the door at a convenience store --- on the way out I wait for the door to open automatically, the man is gone.

If you live downtown, Amnesty International asks you every day, "Do you have time?" I lie. I just want to go to the store. On the way you pass protesters in front of a chicken restaurant trying to organize a boycott, the staff inside just want to earn a few dollars.

Speculators buy multiple units of condominium projects and play a big money game of "flip this house." At the same time we're trying to find solutions for homelessness.

No wonder homelessness is now at our doorsteps.

Perhaps, if residential real estate wasn't for profit homelessness would be greatly reduced? Dare to dream.

"How can we call ourselves free when the water that we drink comes from some factory."

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--- The Swollen Members.

Some make fortunes off the sweat of the less fortunate --- live in penthouses, drive fancy cars, and at the same time forget who really gave them the keys.

I think I need to stop looking if I want to keep smiling.

Vancouver is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful cities in the world. World class? We seem to have forgotten what’s truly important: people, including us, the tourists, and those who are less fortunate --- who happen to be brothers and sisters. Maybe the walk to the store has made us all cold and bitter. Have we become self-absorbed?

It’s no wonder that I’ve read in the paper every day this week: Lindsay’s heading back to rehab. Funny, I don’t recall crashing my Mercedes.

The Solution?

We can’t welcome the world with open arms unless we start being nicer to each other, therefore, smile, drop the attitude, and when you're buying your water, realize some aren't as lucky as you.

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As the announcer shouts out in London’s Underground: “Mind the Gap.” I’m not so certain Vancouver is minding ours.

We have security guards in our grocery stores protecting the food.

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A version of this article originally appeared in 24 Hours Vancouver, and although, Lindsay normally writes about what he sees in his home city of Vancouver (as it prepares for the 2010 Olympics), he feels that this is an accurate view of what is happening in our World today. And frankly, it makes him sad and he asks one question: Is the point of our journey through life the pursuit of fame and trying to get rich regardless of cost, both societal and individually?

Slow down people, life is too precious and if we don't --- we may miss the boat.

Lindsay is a Vancouver based author. For information visit http://www.seedenterprises.com/

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Put down the fork

Put down the fork

by: Lindsay Wincherauk (the seed)
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Like global warming the evidence is in --- we’re girthing up at an alarming rate.

“People who are 100 pounds or more overweight are the fastest-growing group of overweight people, researchers reported…” - Reuters.

With continued trips to the trough we risk losing sight of our feet, for good.

Experts predict that nearly 100-percent of the North American population will be overweight in our lifetimes. Currently 67-percent of the adult population is overweight --- leaning towards obese.

It’s not only a Western phenomena: for the first time in history, fat people equal the underweight globally and just as people are dropping dead from starvation, others are literally eating themselves to death. “Globesity” has reached epidemic super-sized proportions.

Is it time to place blame? Find a scapegoat?

Mmm… curried scapegoat!

Before we point our stocky fingers at the gluttonous culprits, maybe we should go to the mirror to do a little soul-searching…

It’s easy to blame: restaurants, technology, the internet, portion sizes, friends, family, vending machines… Society seems to resist taking responsibility (perhaps a product of divorce). Our hectic lives have made bringing home the proverbial bacon a challenging feat. Technology is taking children off the playing fields ---- placing them in front of the computer, playing games with ephemeral friends. A product of a increasingly virtual world.

A main aspect of our expanding waistlines is the fact: We’re only doing what we’ve been told to do. We’re brilliant consumers --- of everything! Food is no exception. We’ve gobbled up the slick marketing campaigns and eat, eat, eat… until we find ourselves depressed and then we continue eating for comfort’s sake. Life has left us reeling and we can’t slow down or we risk being passed by the Smiths.

We eat at our desks, in front of the TV, and we eat pizza while walking down the street. Rarely do we sit down as a family anymore for a leisurely dinner --- sharing life as part of the menu.

Instead, we’ve eaten so much that the fashion industry has changed medium to small and large to… Food and dieting is big HUGE business, tipping the scales: over 23-billion dollars has been spent on dieting in the States this year. While at the same time: approximately 22-thousand people die of hunger everyday, globally.

Food for thought:

Fat seems to be an epidemic of the Developed World. We’re constantly being inundated with stories of global warming, war, etc… Could the associated fears have triggered something in our psyche prompting us to eat before the Developing World catches on? Are we preparing to hibernate?

Come along with me and let’s step up to the blame buffet for a moment (sneeze guard optional):

We truly have become a society of blame, blame, blamety, blame… haven’t we? Why accept responsibility, for anything, when we can dump all of our shortcomings on others? Can’t function, uncle Chuck touched me when I was little… so I’m gonna sit on a street corner, mope around, and panhandle. Can’t function, one of my teachers was hard on me, have to eat, cause I couldn’t drop and do twenty. The world is tough, can’t function, can’t function, can’t function, can‘t...

The blame parade intensifies when it comes to getting large. The food manufacturers, the portion sizes, trans fats, computers, a gene, a thyroid condition, my friends, television, I’ve given up stroking the bolt upright, loping the mule… I must eat my esteem has taken a beating… life is too hectic… food is everywhere… argh…they want us to eat, to consume.

All valid excuses… that’s right, excuses. With few exceptions --- that’s all they are. That’s not to discount traumatic events that alter life’s course and need the attention of professionals, however, those too are steeped in depression with far reaching psychological roots. Life, pardon the expletive, is fucking tough. A message for survival: it gets tougher if your heart has to put in extra effort keeping you alive. A blockage here: that’s okay, we’ll reroute the flow. Another blockage: sweat breaks on your brow, a road crew is called in, another rerouting. Another blockage: what’s that… you’ve dropped dead. Who’d you blame now?.. Oh yeah, can’t blame… I’m dead.

Therefore, regardless of the reason/excuse, the only one who can take responsibility for the death march of the food brigade is you. We can continue to blame… to do research in an attempt to find those responsible. We can try to get on a reality show to try to become the biggest “loser”. Or we can simply eat a vegetable, some fruit, and smaller portions. Change our lifestyles instead of letting others change it for us with marketing campaigns. Or die.

It’s that simple, the choice is yours: Door number one: die fat and depressed, bloated with comfort food. Door number two: moderation, variety, exercise, and live a long vibrant life, filled with love, sex, happiness, and a view of your…

I’ll save you the headache of filtering your way through the gamut of research, the reasons the world is getting fat are as follows:

1. We’re just doing (eating) what we’re told. We’re perfect little consumers. We’ve left others in charge of our lifestyle choices and we’ve taken the easy artery clogging routes.
2. We’re depressed. (23-billion spent on dieting). An excellent category for a scavenger hunt may be: find someone over 20 who hasn’t at some time said, “I need to lose a few pounds.”
3. And, that’s about it… argue if you must. Blame if you will. X-large will soon become small if you do.

“Just one more bite. It’s wafer thin.”

“Fuck off! I’m full.”

A last taste of calorie reduced desert: Earlier when I mentioned the Developing worlds psyche, I was kinda kidding. Eating for survival, that sounds ludicrous. Is it?

Unlike the wild where animals survive on instinct, man is supposed to be full of reason and logic and gummy bears. Haven’t we all become obedient sheep? I know it is an abstract concept. Does the average man make his own decisions? You may be asking: what does this have to do with expansion through food?

Bear with me.

We’re fat, yet, we keep eating. We kill others cause we’re told that it is for our survival, without really understanding the reasons why?.. or having a hatred for those we’re killing or even understanding what they believe in. We hate because of color, sexual orientation, and the neighborhood others live in. We buy what we’re told. We attend the same schools. Watch the same television. Independent thought is lauded as long as it falls in line with the powers that be. If you listen to the message that has been sent our way: we’re supposed to divide and conquer, to hate, to profile the enemy, and to protect our rights from those who are, “out to get us”.

Don’t believe me?

The Chinese were given opium and when they became drug addled and divided, their ports we‘re stolen right from under them. Now we fear that they’re recovering and may be out for a little payback, in the form of consumption… wait a sec, we’re not done consuming, yet. How dare they want the same luxuries?

India... a similar story. Oh well… they provide us with cheap products.

We brought slaves to America, stripped away their identities, their history, divided them, took away hope, raped, pillaged, assassinated, introduced drugs… and, you fill in the blanks. Yet, we pretend that racism “is getting better”. Please!

Still claim to be logical and not like a wild animal, surviving on instinct?

By the way, I truly believe, consumption is a product of depression and we’re being ushered down the consumption path by greed. Crazy? Maybe. It’s just a thought.

As those who suffered through the before mentioned indiscretions rebound… a new market place was needed to sell products to. Where’d the corporate world find this market? Right before their eyes. Us. Time to drug us: prescription and illicitly. Distract us: sports, celebrities, and a hectic life schedule, leaving us all too spent to see what really is coming down the pike. Deposit us in fear: global warming, bird flu, obesity stats, hurricanes, English parents killing their children, the news, reality… etc. And, divide us (a product of the previous): divorce.

If we’re confused, tired, living in fear and divided, we become perfect consumers.

“Finally there is a product that will help you take an active step towards safeguarding yourself and the people you care about from shooting incidents…

Since 1999 over 328 incidents have occurred, leaving 229 dead and 422 injured in school violence alone. That is an average of about 1 per week since the Columbine Tragedy. In almost 97% of these documented incidents, MJ Safety Solutions backpack could have provided the ballistic protection that could have saved lives.

This backpack can provide life saving defense for anyone: school children, educators, journalists and tourists to name a few. This is a full size, ultra leightweight backpack packed with features to make it practical for everyone.”

- taken from MJ safety solutions web page.

“Timmy what did you learn in school today? How was math? Science?”

“I learned to be afraid. I learned others are out to kill me. Me and my friends have started to profile others… the outcasts, the nerds, the people with different skin. I’m so glad that you’ve given me a bulletproof backpack, Daddy.”

Racism, hatred and fear live on! Way to go world. Wait a second, it’s a “need”, you’re not trying to cash in on fear and create more… I’m so sorry, I misinterpreted your intentions. Kids “need” bulletproof backpacks. Something’s wrong with you… us. Fuckers.

So, guess what, I eat… this world sucks. That’s part of the lesson plan if you listen to those trying to stick their greasy little fingers in our pockets by creating “need”. If we buy in, guess what? Bye, bye logic, let’s give into instinct.

And thus, more depression, leading to the smorgasbord of life, and perhaps, just perhaps, an instinctive gluttony in an attempt to survive. Like animals who use up every resource until extinction or till man alters their playing fields leading them to a premature exit; Could man simply be following the same formula? Could man instinctively be eating everything on the table because of fear and inevitably one day become famished because we’ve become so large, so overpopulated, so fuelled by greed and hatred, that there is nothing left to consume. Except of course, for those of us who are fuelled by logic and reason, they'll get to retreat to fully stocked bunkers.

I know when I’ve packed on a few extra pounds, it’s not my fault, someone else raised the fork and pried open my mouth, force feeding me. After a few days of binging I start the logical quest for thin: “This will be the last burger, last cola, desert, whole chicken, box of chocolates, bag of chips, I’ll eat… tomorrow, I’ll hit the gym and work it all off ---change my lifestyle.” Screw that, I’ll just buy some heavier forks.

Anyway you slice it, it’s a serious problem and our health depends on finding a solution. A simple starting point: Sitting down as a family for a leisurely dinner, sharing life.

Or: Put down the fork and assume some responsibility, unless, you don’t like your toes.

Lindsay is a Vancouver based author. For information visit http://www.seedenterprises.com/

You've been plugged!

plugging another author

Funny thing, I never used to read … well, not entirely true, I used to read magazines, the odd short story, subtitles on foreign films, and, my all-time favorite: the ingredients on 7/11 snacks:

Bun, cheese, meet (perhaps beef): $4.99.

Back to the funny thing --- I became an author, by accident, okay, maybe not by accident, instead, destiny took over and I penned, co-penned a book. First take, 365 pages, one sentence. With a little editing I managed to put in three commas and two periods to break up the read, and, POW, the book was released to the public.

And, that was that.

“What the hell is this funny thing you speak of?”

Coming soon! Be patient.

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Salzburg Austria, circa 2003: “mysterious man wearing hat.”

I nodded off for a second… the funny thing? I started to read… everything. Columnists at first (somehow I landed a semi-regular gig writing for a local paper), thus, reading columnists made sense. Thing is, I hated most of the writing, probably a bad thing to say, I may have just blacklisted myself. Anyway, most writers seem to be following the same formula and passion has been replaced by the pursuit of a paycheck. Can’t blame them? Yes I can. That sucks. Part of the formula seems to be feeding the public whatever quick fix drivel that will keep them sufficiently numbed and sheep-like.

Don’t believe me --- how many songs do you have on your I-pod?

I’ve heard the next version will be invisible and will allow the user to download every song ever made. Even the ones which have yet to be written or recorded.

“I believe in miracles. You sexy thing.”

In my youth I thought they were singing: “I believe in Mellco.” What the hell is Mellco? You sexy thing.

Back to the articles, what happened to having your own thoughts and opinions? Are some writers afraid to put themselves out there? To share perspective on how they envision positive change taking place?

Let me extrapolate, almost every columnist that I’ve read (not all), quote others to support their views, which tells me, the views weren’t original to begin with, and perhaps, all that they are doing is earning a passionless paycheck.

Shame on you. You have a responsibility --- you’ve taken the hypocritical* writers oath and you’re supposed to be part of the save the world process. At the very least, providing either: thought provoking fresh linguistic styling or laugh-your-ass-off perspectives. I know, the journalism school in my head probably overlooked some of the basics --- who wants to be basic?

Then I discovered, books. Books are different. More honest. More needed, and often more original. Except of course for the authors and publishers who are seeking out the big payday. Sheep seem to like…

I was lucky, even the books I didn’t particularly enjoy, taught me something. Style, punctuation, grammar and the correct usage of profanity. Book authors for the most part seemed motivated by making a difference, good or bad.

the plug

Consumed, by Benjamin Barber/W.W. Norton.

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http://www.amazon.com/Consumed-Markets-Children-Infantilize-Citizens/dp/0393049612/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-6397469-7236127?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1178390065&sr=1-1

He genuinely seems to want to alter the course of our evolution by shedding light on what he theorizes to be the destructive elements in our way of living, that without radical change, threaten the lifestyles we’ve become so accustomed to. He sheds light on the manipulation by marketing gurus and corporations to create “imaginary needs” which turns consumers into obedient sheep (the sheep reference is my interpretation of today‘s world and appears in the second sentence of my first book).

Barber wants to save capitalism and protect our way of living. In fact, a shift in direction may be a necessity --- sitting still may result in our desires being taken away without our consent.
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Benjamin Barber: You’ve been plugged!

Do you know where I can get me some Mellco?

*I’ll let you fill in the reason for the asterisks.

coming soon

Hopefully sooner* than later.

Book two in the Seed book roster has been completed, see potential covers below. The book is the riveting, bizarre, wacky, abstract tale of Seed’s (Lindsay Wincherauk), journey through life. It is filled with suspense, drama, deception, orange whips, porn, chips and a cast of wacky and interesting characters and almost unfathomable situations. It chronicles…an amazing life. At times you’ll want to scream at Seed and at others, you’ll want to grab him, hold onto him, give him a great big hug, and tell him, everything is going to be alright.

You’ll be invited into his life and you’ll become an intricate part of the story.

Because he lays himself bare and shares both tragedy and success, everyone will be able to relate. Whether it be: first love, learning to drive, getting fired or just simply: trying to be happy.
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You’re invited along for a remarkable ride, you’ll meet the Dalai Lama, play basketball with Fox Mulder, crash motorcycles in Jamaica, find, and lose love, have a run in with Manuel Noriega, and most important: gain wisdom from an old man on a bus bench.

You’ll be taken to the highest of highs and dropped to the lowest of lows, only to help seed climb from the pits of life’s rubble.

Seriously, coming soon to a book store or theater in your neighbourhood. Hop aboard and come along on a wickedly entertaining ride. Unless of course you’re out buying the Britney Spears autobiography, if that’s the case, good luck with life!

Below are a collection of Book Cover mock ups. If you have a favorite, send your vote to theseedvan@hotmail.com include in the subject line: book cover.

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Thanks!

*Rejection is a big part of the publishing and success process. It sucks. Especially when you’re confident that the product (manuscript) is original and strong. Seed has been rejected often, that is okay, each rejection brings him and Seed Enterprises one step closer to, “YES,” and whichever publisher/agent is wise enough to come onboard --- will share in what is to come.

Query letters and proposals have been sent out, some results have come in, some are still pending. Rejections have been met. They’ve consisted of a gamut of comments: beautifully presented, well written, intriguing story line, incredible energy in the storytelling, unique, interesting, brilliant story, and my favorite, too abstract.

Despite the kind words (big positives when a publisher takes the time to personalize) the end result, thus far, has been, not for us.

The challenge of the queries?

The most important part of the story is absent, "Seed". For the publisher/agent who picks up this amazing story, they also get Seed (Lindsay). They get the passion in his eyes. They get his intoxicating storytelling. They get his energy. No query can possibly capture the value of these qualities.

As a recent audience of a short reading said:

“Wow. Amazing. I can relate to everything you’ve shared. Not only hilarious, but thought provoking. What makes this so fantastic is how everyone interprets your words differently. I can sympathize with the pain and emotion. As for my friend, he sees something wonderful in the way you look at the world. Lindsay, you‘re a star that is about to burst. Keep going.”

-the words of Katherine --- a woman in a lounge.

“The world must be moving in slow motion to you. You see things differently than most. If I go to the washroom --- its just that, going to the washroom. But when you go, you’ll return with a brilliant story. Your ship is on the horizon and it’s about to come in.”

-her friend Abraham.

Embellishment factor: zero, pretty much, verbatim.

The words of four randomly selected readers, not close friends, people who don’t know my life story, after reading the manuscript.

“Beautifully written. Powerful. Bizarre. Hilarious. Tragic. Absolutely loved it. Your style is fresh and original. It left me wanting more. I’d go as far as, brilliant!”

I kid you not. The mixture of readers, three girls, one guy, varying ages.

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Why the postamble rant?

If you are, happen to know, would like to be, an agent/publisher/movie producer and would like to be part of a brilliant, real, multi-layered project, and future projects, I might add, that contain some positive insight and messages, talk to us.

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Send and email to theseedvan@hotmail.com . In the subject line put: agent/publisher.

Thanks!

P.S. The beauty of this project. The books done, it’s great, it’s a fantastic story and we have the patience to wait for the right home.

Do you have the keys to the house?

Well, do you?

Bagdad Hotels

Your accommodations are ready…

Baghdad, Iraq
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a real family fun spot!

Great for:

Skiing/Snowboarding, Hiking/Camping, Nightlife, Budget Travel, Family Vacations.

The flight in was a little choppy, what with the surface to air missile fiasco and all, but once we got in and through immigration, good times were had by all.

My son, who is 9, especially liked all the neat trucks and tanks (who can blame him??? I'm stuck on the History Channel 24/7!!) He would constantly run up to the soldiers and shout, "I give up! I give up!" while waving his little hands in the air and everyone would have a good laugh.

We ended up staying at the Palestine Hotel and were surprised at the number of foreigners staying there. Wow! I guess Baghdad isn't the secret vacation paradise it used to be! The hotel lobby was a bit sparse, but there was lot of cool rubble and fake blood to give the hotel an authentic "Palestine" feel. The staff was super nice and made sure you felt right at home. No problems on getting extra towels.

My wife loved the shopping! Everything was SO CHEAP! Neither of us could believe what we could get for a few measly dollars. People were almost BEGGING us to buy their stuff for next to nothing! It was the best shopping holiday EVER! The locals got a good laugh when I told them I was doing some early Christmas shopping in July. I guess they all got into the holiday spirit, since the merchants followed us all the way back to the hotel chanting and waving their arms around. I bet Bing Crosby would be proud of their attempt at caroling. Fun stuff!

After two weeks, it was hard to leave. I almost thought about calling the boss back home to say, "I'm not coming back! I've fallen in love with this place!" but in the end, the harsh reality of a mortgage payment and a (by now) starving pet prevailed and we got on the plane and headed back to Canada.

i love bagdad

the atmosphere is magnificent there, even with the ominous sound of those RPG's flying over you hotel cannot put you off the beauty of the looters of Iraq. Everything is so cheap there all the way from the stolen computers to the unused shells.

my hotel smelled like feet

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Great for:

Scuba/Snorkeling, Nightlife, Family Vacations

I was a little disappointed in the accommodations, the sheets were dirty and the room was smelly. Not much hot water, either. Plus, when I complained to the guy, he says "Don't you want to feel awful?" and he sticks some sort of chicken wrap in my face. When I was strolling around the boulevard in my Toby Keith Rules t shirt I seemed to be getting a lot of stares. Not one decent sports bar in the whole damn city, either. Don't these idiots watch football? It's the playoffs for chrissake! Do not throw candy to the children! This means that something is going to blow up right near you. And avoid lines of people waiting for work. Same deal. It's a good idea to wear running shoes as well because when a bunch of screaming Abdullahs approach you, waving knives and firing rifles, I found that it's best to just get the hell out of Dodge, so to speak and it's a lot more comfortable to do so when you have some light footwear. If you're wearing boots, you're just gonna get some god awful blisters.

i expected more

When I first got to Baghdad I was treated to men smoking like chimneys and with big bushy moustaches. Then as luck would have it we were delayed since another severed head was rolling in the road, so that had to be picked up and put with the other 3,000 of them. Women oh women. Had on lovely skin of goat which went very well with their rotted teeth. There is something about a woman who is 24 and looks 64 chain smoking through one of her 5 teeth. ahhhhh. Then we went on a tour of saddams death chambers where he and others laughed it up as people were lowered in vats of acid and brought up with just the hint of flesh on their bones---such belly laughs! all in all not too bad but I thought there would be more.

(Source: yahoo travel)

link o' the week...

Overnight success is nothing more than an illusion.

Pursuing ones dreams often is met with dead ends and the frustration of a seemingly endless number of detours. It is a solo journey that can tax resolve and strip away every shred of ambition and drive. Writing can epitomize with a relentless fervor the subjective nature of success.

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That brings us to today’s: link o’ the week: Patricia Fry. Patricia is actively involved in offering writers an olive branch and providing valuable insight and guidance in the pursuit of their dreams. She is actively involved in: SPAWN (Small Publishers, Artists and Writers Network); Matilija Press, which publishes her book roster; and her own publishing blog (follow the link below).

Anyway, why the link o’ the week?

‘Cause in this day in age it is rare when someone takes an extra step to offer sage advice and encourage others. That is exactly what Patricia has done, after receiving a misguided email regarding my first memoir: Russians, Clowns & Drag Queens, she took the time to write a personalized and in depth reply, offering the said, sage advice.

Writers and would-be-writers, check out Patricia’s site. You’ll be glad that you did.

http://www.matilijapress.com/publishingblog/

Patricia Fry

Considered "a maven when it comes to counseling authors in the art of publishing and selling their books" and "one of the most well known writing gurus," Patricia Fry has been working with other freelance writers and authors for over two decades. She is a literary and manuscript consultant, an editor and a teacher. She can help you write a book with more publishing potential and she can guide you in preparing a more successful book proposal.

Patricia Fry started writing for publication in 1973, when her three daughters were teenagers. While watching her girls graduate, helping them plan their weddings and welcoming her grandchildren, she wrote only part-time. And she continued writing at every opportunity even after accepting a full-time job. In 1990, however, Patricia quit her job and began devoting all her time to her writing career.

life

press play

go, happy - sing - sip - simply fly - whatever it takes to make a round... no matter what the consequences hold in store, it's the only way to survive the onslaught - derive pleasure, embrace, lucidity arrives and despair dissipates - another bend, another flat spot - rise from the ashes to collapse in anguish, rise again to shoot for the stars, don't lose sight, good comes from persistence, if it is any other way it hasn't been uncovered --- the sad, the bad, the tears, the pain: enhance - the sad, the bad, the tears, the pain, brings: life - the sad, the bad, the tears, the pain, brings: finality - cry, love, laugh, sing, and hug - don't succumb, tomorrow may be next and next will always be better in some way, yesterday is gone, lessons learned, forgotten and repeated - smile again and again, share love, lie down, relax, repeat, and kiss... continue…

Seed's Sketchy Relationship Theories --- Chapter 2 excerpts.

CHAPTER 2

What Is ..?

“The eyes of other people are the eyes that ruin us.
If all but myself were blind, I should want neither fine clothes,
fine houses nor fine furniture.”

-Ben Franklin

…This book is a practical and humorous guide to the perils of dating and relationships. It could quite easily be placed in the Relationship, Self Help, Comedy or Bargain Bin sections of your favorite bookstore. It draws from years of relationship adventures (mistakes) and a lot of fun and confusion (drunken lonely nights)...

...it will help you make big strides both in your dating and personal lives…

…Seed’s Sketchy Guide is ultimately a series of essays on the different aspects of relationships, dating and the world...

…Seed’s Sketchy Relationship Theories: A Guide to the Perils of Dating may not be for everyone … fuck that, it is for EVERYONE!!! It will help some people wind their way through the often scary and evil world of dating, relationships, breaking up, starting over again, and most importantly, being as happy…

…If you want to live an exciting fulfilling life: STRIVE TO BE THE EXCEPTION! You will be the one with the smile on your face, not the one who is desperately trying to prove that they are the EXCEPTION!

Seed’s Sketchy Guide will help you navigate your way through all of the steps of relationships, from the first date to “I do” and everything in between. It will help you to decide whether you should stay, leave, or just stick around for the sex. It will help you to put the fun back into dating and relationships...

Let’s give our kids a chance. Single parenthood is not an achievement and staying together for the kid’s sake may even be less of an accomplishment. It’s simple: if you do not want to raise your own children, then don’t have any…

…Seed’s Sketchy Guide is truly a love story. It is filled with passion and a positive message of the ideal world, sort of a utopia. You just need to read between the lines to find the positive message…

…My advice to those of you who are really offended by the word FUCK, don’t read it out loud…

…regardless of style we feel the positive message of the book is far more important than style --- so, sit back, relax and enjoy!

Check back for excerpts from: chapter 3: why?

The Tomorrow File

The Tomorrow File

-excerpts

by: Lawrence Sanders

Lawrence Sanders, Mr. Bestseller. Below you will find some excerpts from the simple most provocative thriller by the superstar author of THE FIRST DEADLY SIN. It is his million-copy thriller about the nightmare of tomorrow of planned sex and casual terror, where a man and woman who dare to love are hunted as dangerous criminals.

Why have I included these excerpts on our site?

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Two reasons:

1. I’ve just finished reading the book and though, it was written in the early 70s, and it was written about the future, the late 90s, the excerpts “wigged” me out. See if they have the same effect on you.
2. It has turned into excerpt day, search around and you’ll find some excerpts from chapter 2: why? Of SEED’S SKETCHY RELATIONSHIP THEORIES. Okay, 3 reasons;
3. Why not promote other authors that we’ve enjoyed?

That’s all for now. Enjoy the excerpts and while you at it, remember to visit http://www.seedenterprises.com/ and purchase a copy or our book.

excerpts

Remember, the following was written in the 70s and he’s forecasting the 90s. Enjoy!

…“Illegal?” he demanded. “then change the laws. Tradition? As ephemeral as slavery and dueling. Morality? Someone said it’s all a matter of time and geography. Religion? Valuable, but only as a function of the state. Social order? It is what the government says it is. Yes, the solutions we propose are radical. Or may appear radical. Because the problems are new. Have never been faced before. Zero population growth. Energy crunch. World-wide terrorism. Ecological decay. Genetic engineering. Nuclear blackmail. All relatively new problems. That not only demand new solutions, as Nick said, but demand a new way of computing. Of seeing the interdependence of all human activities. A lot of things have been cherished for a long, long time will have to go. Must go! There are no absolutes. Free elections? Free speech? The Bill of Rights? Freedom of worship? Personal privacy? They’ve all been restricted during times of crisis. And they are all relatively young concepts. Some of them less than two hundred years old. They worked well for that timespan. But we can no longer afford them. We must compute new concepts, a new Bill of Rights, to see us through the approaching crisis. And it is coming. As certainly as I know the reality of our presence here, in this room, I know it is coming. And the only way to even begin to cope is put away the slogans of yesterday, the shibboleths of today’s political system and social organization. I put it to you this way: Is there one of you who would not voluntarily relinquish your individual freedom if, by relinquishing that freedom, you helped guarantee the survival of the human species? That is not just a ‘what if’ question. It is an exact statement of the choice we may be facing… Because only strange new ideas can ensure the survival of our society. Of our species. That is what we’re really talking about---survival. The Department of Creative Science will be the first step toward bringing science and technology into a policymaking role in the US Government. Reject it, and you reject the future.”…

…About ten days later, I was in Bismarck, North Dakota, addressing the annual convention of the Association of US Historians. I was not about to tell historians that history was inoperative. That I no longer offered precedents. Some of my remarks:

“As historians, you must know that most civilizations have perished. Or are perishing. Birth, growth, stop. It is the fate of most objects and most societies. Some in a wink, some longer. Some by interior rot, some by external aggression…”

“…Basically, PT is based on the realization that food was then in short supply and would be for the foreseeable future. Therefore food must be used strategically and tactically as an offensive weapon. Since we could not feed the entire world, we could best serve our won interests by our choice of who buys our wheat, who gets our corn, who is shipped enough soybeans and fertilizer to allow them to continue to exist as viable nations. And at what level of subsistence. Some nations inimical to us would have to go down the pipe. Others we could maintain at a starvation level, a malnutrition level, or, if we wished, a comfortable level approximating our own calorie-consumption rate…”

I hope that you’ve enjoyed the excerpts. Do you see why I’m wigged out? I suggest buying Mr. Sanders book. It’s a good read. While at it pick up a copy or our first book.

His future may have passed, but it seems to be upon us now and if we don’t get a grasp on some of this shit, I suggest: DUCKING.

See you soon!

Link o' the week...

Link o’ the week…

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New years resolution: in the tank. Girth expanding. Countable chins. Eight chins. Too many chins. O', o': Ear flab. Scream!

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Why is it so confusing? What shall I eat? What can I eat? I just want to friggen eat.

Well, we feel for you. For a moment I even lost site of my toes. I like my toes. Where did my toes go? Where did that other thingy go? I miss my toes and that thingy? I want them back. I'd say, "we want them back," however, maybe too personal and I'm sure the rest of my crew... too much information.

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The national food guide scares me. Who can eat the suggested trillion helpings of fruits and vegetables per day? Who? Who?

In the spirit of helping: here’s our suggestion for a kick-assed, fat warring site, that may help you find the action --- leading to motivation ---- transporting you from coronary nearing, artery clogging, heart palpitating, death.

This site is a precursor, to the soon to be, one day riveting, third, perhaps fourth, maybe our fifth, released book: Put Down the Fork.

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Stay tuned!

In the meantime visit the site below and take a look at what you’re eating, what you can eat and maybe find some simple solutions for reaching your goal(s). I’m using it. It’s working.

If you’d like me to share with you my stats, send me (the seed) an email @ seed@seedenterprises.com and I will share with you my progress.

Have a great day and remember: “Action comes before motivation.” So get moving.

http://www.calorie-count.com



Don’t become a prisoner in your own body!

Don’t be as big as the backdrop!

Unless of course: you want to.

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note: The seed crew is incredibly busy. Bar exams, research work in bars, writing newspaper articles and penning literary gems. Not to forget, securing an agent and publisher for: Russians, Clowns & Drag Queens.

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Thus, when we say, "Link o' the week...," we mean it figuratively, therefore, we'll try to give you a fresh new link weekly, just don't bust our chops if we miss a week or two. Okay?

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Thanks.

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O' yeah, if you happen to know an agent, publisher or you happen to be one of those yourself, or hmm... even a screenwriter, contact us at seed@seedenterprises.com and we can discuss the possiblities. Over some nachos. :)

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Also, if you know a brilliant link, or are a brilliant, or the missing link: fire them our way, and we'll share with the world, or the odd visitor to our site.

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Bye for now!

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...you don't have to leave, you can stay, explore, there are some naughty bits hanging around if you just look carefully!

A photo evolution of seed!

the constantly changing life of seed...

places i've been!

World Wide

create your own visited country map

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The exitable US of A
(black is the new white)

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create your own personalized map of the USA

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O' Canada

our home and native...

create your own personalized map of Canada
or check out ourVancouver travel guide

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Europe

the old world becomes the new world power?

create your personalized map of europe
or check out our Barcelona travel guide

Seed Likes (explore the i highway)

Seed Likes
Friends from around the web

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We here at Seed Enterprises have been a little slow to jump onto the linking bandwagon. We thought link was referring to sausages. You can’t fault us for that. We also thought way back in the beginning days of video games, that our friends, when they said they had one 3 free games - were bringing home Risk, Monopoly and Clue. So, maybe we are truly challenged, thus, explaining the ’slow’.

Now that we get ‘it’ - we promise to provide you with a sort of link Utopia. A place where our rigorous link approval process (264 steps) will assure your linking pleasure.

All you have to do is sit back, click and enjoy!

Local Haunts & Friends

Up close and personal. Vancouver & Vicinity

Seed Enterprises www.seedenterprises.com

• The link that started our need to start linking. We like to call it the starting link. If you don’t click here you’ll be missing lots of stuff.

Tasty Global Affinities
It’s one big mother of a world. Father for that matter as well. Explore.

Activism

Remember Segregation http://www.remembersegregation.org/

• An amazingly powerful site that continues with the quest to stomp out racism and segregation. Listen to Martin Luther Kings infamous “I have a dream,” speech. Incredibly moving.

You Think http://youthink.worldbank.org/

• You think about the world. You care about the world. It’s now time to do something about the world. Let’s fight for our planet. Great resource to help you understand the issues that impact us all. Touches on topics such as water, urbanization and the environment. Encourages young people to make a difference. A fantastic site!

Aesthetically Pleasing

Feed me better http://www.feedmebetter.com/index.html

• Jamie Oliver tackles childhood obesity by offering healthy dining solutions and education to our future superstars. Our children. I love the simple layout of this website. Very easy to navigate and full of advice and interesting factoids.

Let’s Educate

Cool Capitals http://www.coolcapitals.com/

• A brilliant site that takes you to 4 of the coolest cities on the globe. Amsterdam, Antwerp, Zurich and Vienna. Explore dining, shopping, art, architecture and the world class nightlife. Highly interactive. Devilishly fun. Stop by and whisk yourself away!

Channel 4’s Rich-O-Meter

http://www.channel4.com/4money/funnymoney/richometer/index.html

• You think you‘ve got it bad. You think you’re broke. You think money may be the key to happiness. See where you stand up financially on the Global Stage. You may be surprised. Mac & Cheese may not be that bad after all.

Weird

Weird TV http://www.weird.tv/

• The name says it all. Very weird. Very entertaining. A real time waster.

Laugh

The Lonely Island http://thelonelyisland.com/

• Shorts from the minds who write for SNL.

Channel 4’s Gay-O-Meter

http://www.channel4.com/life/microsites/G/gayometer/gayometer.html

• You want to know which way you swing? Channel 4 out of London may provide you with the answer. Take this simple test and put to rest your sexuality.

Love - Life - Happiness - Advice

Ask Seed http://askseed.blogspot.com/

• Who? Seed. Seed will tackle all of your life dilemmas with comedy and brutal honesty. He’ll also throw in some funky original photography & artwork. Click here and you will find the timeless classic: Construction Turf War. You’ll also find THE DA SEEDY CODE. What are you waiting for. Visit - Ask - Laugh - Solve.

Important Link Announcement

Let’s link together. Sausages. Life. Love. Laughter. Let’s just bring it all together and click, click, clickity, clack.

We want you to link with us. If you have a site you think we’d be wise to add. Fire me a message to the seed van @ hotmail . com and tell us why and where we should link you. OK!

We will not link to porn or gambling sites. And if you are trying to sell us something - don’t bother. We just want your link for now.

More Seed Visuals

We love to share. So, share we do. The link below is your one stop shop to see some "original seed eye candy".

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Sweet, saucy, sultry, tantalizing, provocative, raw, edgy, sexy, steamy, wet, hot, cold, dry, dripping, invigorating, tempting, tasty, wicked, ambitious, passionate, controversial, lumpy, smooth, chilling, driven, urban, natural, orgasmic, original, undefined, defined, riveting, delirious, thought provoking and fun photography & art work awaits you by simply clicking on the icon below.

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If you like something you see - let us know we'd love to hear from you. Really we would.

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Don't forget to visit www.seedenterprises.com and enter our first phantasmagorical contest.

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*Win Win Win*

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Or don't win. Just enter and tell your friends.

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Also if you'd like to be Seed's Everyday Guy or Gal of the..........

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Visit our site. Find the link to Seed's Everyday Guy or Gal of the...... and submit a photo, some preliminary info and your answer to the 15 Questions.

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Hey, we decided to simplify it for you, here's the link:

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http://seedenterprises.blogspot.com/2005/12/seeds-everyday-guygal-of-week.html

Visual Journey

We would like to invite you along on a visual journey. We love photography and presenting our original images to you.

Always original. Sometimes altered.

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A touch racy. Intoxicatingly entertaining.

Come on board for the journey. Just click on the link below.
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We hope you enjoy the story within!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/31019244@N00/show/

And now for some bonus art & photography from the eye of seed:

Please remember to explore www.seedenterprises.com

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Stay tuned for the first episode of Happy Johnny.

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"Fighting Evil Just Got Sticky"

We welcome your comments and feedback.

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Limited edition images are for sale. Or if you would like us to come up with an original image for you or your company, fire an email our way and we will shoot you the details.

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*We realize there is a typo in one of the images. Arghhhhh.

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If you like what you see - Seed Enterprises is always open to discussing investment opportunities.