Do I dare reveal my geekdom? Yesterday I was in the mood to play one of my old PC games: Might and Magic: The World of Xeen to be exact. Naturally this game which came out in the early-mid nineties no longer runs on our superior hardware.

For those not in the know there is a fantastic piece of emulation software available for all platforms (well, at least Mac, Windows and Linux) called DosBox. It’s free and works remarkably well in emulating the old DOS 5 days when you had to mess with EMM386 and memory managers to get the most out of your 640k system.

On my Macbook I also loaded another freeware utility called Dapplegrey which makes even all that messing around that much easier. Customizing the environment for just Might and Magic I loaded the game. But as I was messing with all the different customizations I noticed the option to emulate the Gravis Ultrasound. I took a double take and immediately ran to my cupboard to look for the old bright-red Gravis Ultrasound PnP board that I had skulking somewhere. I even remember the day I bought it at a computer store in the Avalon Mall in St. John’s…

Yes, now I am truly aging myself and proving to the world how much of a geek I actually am. The Gravis Ultrasound. In the days of the 386 and 486, when Windows had yet to supplant the game world as the operating system of choice, there was only one sound card choice if you were a gamer, music-lover and a rebel: The Canadian-produced Gravis Ultrasound.

The card was amazing. It was the first sound card to use real instruments as samples. When it came to Midi, it was as good as or better than my Yamaha keyboard at the time. When it came to games, it was a pain to get going, but when you did it, not only did you have the satisfaction of having beaten more of arcane DOS but you had superior sound.

To walk the dungeons of Ultima Underworld with real flutes and strings, now these were all things to behold. It was a simpler time. No XBOX Live here folks!

I didn’t find it last night, but somewhere my card still exists along with the incredibly expensive 1MB of ram I installed onto it at the time. It’s too bad Gravis could never beat Creative at the sound card game, the card truly was amazing for its time.

“S.B.O.S. Installed.”

I’ve been living in Quebec well over six months now. Something you would never guess considering the dearth of photos from Quebec and Montreal on this site. As everyone knows my camera goes with me on every trip and rarely do I not take a photograph of something. Over the last six months, I haven’t stopped taking photographs but I have been quite lazy in putting them up. Here then are the photos from our September long weekend camping trip to Tadoussac, Quebec.

We went to kayak, frolic among whales, sing campfire songs and eat good campfire food. Along the way we managed to not get blown away by a savage storm, sing impromptu songs for people at a local café, wait for ferries, drive crazily and tell many stories. In other words, a fantastic camping trip.

You came into my life so suddenly,
For years I spurned you,
For years I scorned you,
For years I thought you
pretty with no substance.

We were companions barely touching
each other on a Best Buy aisle,
until I turned your wheels, spun your disks
and realized that no other player
would soothe or satisfy me.

On that first long deserted drive
Edmonton to Montreal
The miles clicked by as song after song
you emptied your heart,
you placated my mind

But it all has come to an end
Today you were lifted brazenly
from the warmth of my car
on an icy Ottawa road
Where has my music gone?

You have been stolen
A masked masterless man has absconded you
Tonight In someone else’s arms you spin
In furious agony I lament
In righteous silence I have driven
Ottawa to Montreal

I beseech the one who has taken thee
Play the music, hear its tones
From Duran Duran to the Bedouin Soundclash,
May you or whoever you sell it to
at least enjoy my music.

For Immediate Release

St. Patrick’s Day Drunk Dial 2008 Launched

Montreal, QC, Canada – 16 February 2008 – Today marks the world-wide launch of the campaign for the St. Patrick’s Day Drunk Dial, now in its fourth year.  The Drunk Dial asks all St. Patrick’s Day celebrants, between March 15^th and 17^th 2008, around the world to take a single phone number with them as they party and carouse. People from all over the world can call into the telephone number and leave a message. The funniest and “funnest” will be rewarded!

“After three years of fun, we’re going to do the 2008 Drunk Dial bigger and better than ever!” said organizer Dups of Montreal, Quebec.

This year the telephone number is +1 317 644 6963. Dups warns that there will be long distance charges to the United States but should otherwise be a regular phone call for participants. This year, the organizers intend to give away a portion of any advertising revenue from the web site (http://www.stpatsdrunkdial.com) as well as the customary bottle of Newfoundland Screech Rum.

Dups also noted the public service that the Drunk Dial tries to provide.

“For years I was one of those poor sots who called his friends late night on St. Pat’s Day after having had a few. One year I became a pariah and there were calls for a public castration for all my drunken dialing. Imagine the friendships and relationships that we are saving!”

St. Patrick’s Day has become an international celebration of epic proportions no matter ethnicity, creed, color or the quality of the Guinness. Said Niall Brown, another organizer:

“I think people can identify with a man who got rid of an infestation of snakes. I mean if you woke up in the middle of the night and your country was infested with snakes, wouldn’t you want to celebrate the man who got rid of them. Heck, I’d have a couple drinks in his honor. I’d even call and tell someone about it, and that’s what the Drunk Dial is all about.”

Whether it’s about snakes, drinking or just a phone call to tell us how St. Patrick’s Day is going for you: have fun and give us a call at +1 317 644 6963.

More information about the Drunk Dial and the rules are available at: http://www.stpatsdrunkdial.com

About the St. Patrick’s Day Drunk Dial

The St. Patrick’s Drunk Dial began in 2005 with all of Dups’ friends calling him from around the world on St. Patrick’s Day. Sadly he was too inebriated to remember who won that first year. In subsequent years the reach and popularity of the event has spread far and wide and now we want 2008 to be the biggest year ever! For more information e-mail info@stpatsdrunkdial.com or visit http://www.stpatsdrunkdial.com

Photo Album: Old Quebec

Winter Carnaval in Quebec City is one of the events that is supposed to be “a thing to experience before you die”. With some friends from BioWare Edmonton visiting town (Crystal Ens and Kim Hansen) a bunch of us hustled ourselves out of Montreal and over to snowy Quebec in order to visit Anne-Marie and Jerome. Having planted ourselves in good company and tasted the official drink of Carnaval (homemade Caribou), we decided to take a walk around chilly Winter Carnaval. I didn’t get a chance to take a lot of photos but there were a few that didn’t turn out half bad.

Unfortunately it was a bit of a lightning visit. With snow falling on the ground and my mind turning to the all-season tires that were on the car (don’t ask, obviously my brain had a momentary lapse of judgement in November when faced with the decision to put winter tires on the car), we hastened our return to Montreal. Just in case anyone is wondering, the tires served me well, but I encourage no one to trust “all-season” tires in a Canadian winter.

Yes, you may smack me on the head for that one.

• Photo Album: Sights of Serendib (Part 1)
• Photo Album: Sights of Serendib (Part 2)

Well, there you have it. The final two albums of photos from the island they once called Serendib! By the time we found ourselves wandering through the almost infinite security checks at Colombo International Airport, we had crisscrossed as much of the island nation as we were allowed. We had driven south through the Dutch, Portuguese and British fort at Galle, swum in the Indian Ocean and basked on the white sandy beaches.

We had made offerings to the God Kataragama, worshipped at stupas, stood at World’s End, slept in the highlands, awoke with wonderment at Sigiriya and wandered the night lights of Anuradhapura. However, more importantly than all that, and I hope sincerely that this was the case, four extremely close friends discovered the land of my birth and heritage and met my family. In return, I know my family fell in love with them. So put on your goggles, sit back with some arack, relax and check out the full set of photos from our excursion around tropical bays.

• Tea and the Highlands of Sri Lanka
• Flowers and Kandy
• Buddhism in hiding at Dambulla
• The Palace of the Mad King
• The Lights of Ancient Anuradhapura
• Sights of Serendib (Part 1)
• Sights of Serendib (Part 2)
• Dubai, Desert Metropolis

Photo Album: Palace of the Mad King

In north central Sri Lanka stands the rock fortress of Sigiriya. This gigantic square-shaped rock towers above the rest of the jungle landscape. On top of this 200m rock is a palace created in the 5^th century AD by King Kasyapa.

I was very young when my father first told me about the story of King Kasyapa. Maybe it was the fact that I was the youngest of my brothers, but it was one of those stories that I would ask him to tell over and over again. As I grew older, I discovered that there are many versions and Wikipedia does a good job of noting some of them. However, it’s hard to let go of one’s childhood so let me tell you the story of the Mad King Kasyapa as I heard it.

In ancient times Sri Lankans were the world’s foremost dam builders. Faced with a large population and a relatively dry land where rivers flowed fast to the sea, the people of Sri Lanka were forced to build massive irrigation systems based on a system of dams and water tanks. Now in that ancient time there came a King, Dhatusena who ruled from the centre of the world in Anuradhapura. In his youth and new to his Kingship he set about building yet another tank to catch and control the life blood of his nation. The water would feed its myriad of peoples and his name would live forever.

Having satisfied himself and his engineers that he had found the perfect spot for the tank, he decreed it built. Despite the hard work of the engineers they were faced finally with a set back after so much work.

“O King, there is an ancient man seated where we are building the bund (tank wall) and he is not moving to our summons!”

The King concerned about his project immediately went forth to confront this man.

“Please sir! Please, leave this area. Move just a few feet and we can continue building this great tank and feed our people!” He pleaded.

The man however had entered the last stages of attaining enlightenment, and there cross-legged underneath a tree and radiating life, he paid no heed to the King. The King so shouted thrice at the man and finally in a fit of rage, he yelled to the engineers to continue building the bund. The old man was buried alive.

As time went on, Dhatusena was a very successful king and ruled the lands far and wide. Into his family he ushered two sons, the first Mogallana, his favourite and born of the eldest wife, was groomed for the throne. The second, Kasyapa, was a sickly child always full of want and need and born to his youngest and prettiest wife.

If this were to be Dhatusena’s only problems, then this story would end. It so happened unfortunately that Kasyapas mother, having found little pleasure in an old King’s bed, fell in love with the handsome captain of the guard. However, this forbidden love was never to be. The news reached the mighty King and he fell into a rage and called upon his wife and the captain to his audience chamber. Confronting the two with the wife cowering, his sons by his side, the King had the captain beheaded to the wails of his watching lover.

Kasyapa’s mother decided then and there to install her son to the throne, ahead of Mogollana. Whispering more madness into an already mad man, Kasyapa was convinced that his father was hiding something from him. He decided that he must look upon the riches of the kingdom. He exclaimed to his father and said:

“O great father, show me the riches of this kingdom. I wish to look upon them with mine own eyes. Why must I always see but baubles. You are king of this mighty land and a vast horde.” So pleaded Kasyapa over and over again.

Finally, Dhatusena, now and old man, relented and said to his son:.

“Come with me, I will show you the wealth of this kingdom; riches beyond anything else on this world!”

With that he took his son and set out until the great water tank that he had built in his youth stretched before their eyes. Water lilies were now growing near the bund and through the sluice gates fled the water, its fate to nourish the farmers’ fields that stretched for miles. Standing on the bund Dhatusena stretched his arms wide and addressed Kasyapa:

“Here is my treasure; here is what gives us life. From this water we feed a nation of millions. You wanted to see my treasure, I am but a humble old man and this is this nation’s greatest wealth!”

Kasyapa’s mind snapped and his madness overflowed and before anyone could stop him, Kasyapa carried his father to a part of the bund still under construction and walled him alive in the mud.

It is interesting how one’s deeds never go unpaid in this world.

Kasyapa took his mother, rallied the people, set them against Mogallana the rightful heir and took over the kingdom. Mogallana vowed he would have revenge and take back what was his and fled into neighbouring India.

Kasyapa then called upon a soothsayer to read the stars and tell him what he must do and if he ought to fear Mogallana. The soothsayer bathed in incense and looking far said to Kasyapa:

“Escape to the high rock of Sigiriya from whence you will see your brother’s return. But I warn you, should you come down from the Rock and place your feet on the ground then you shall surely die and your brother reign supreme.”

As he was bid, Kasyapa took up his people and fled to Sigiriya from where he ruled the country from a palace in the clouds. Heeding the soothsayer’s advice, Kasyapa never placed his feet below his palace. The parliament met below under a rock carved like a serpent and there he would send a constant stream of runners with and for news.

During his time he built great ponds and gardens, buildings and sculptures. Artists adorned the palace walls with beautiful frescoes and writing. The entrance to the palace itself was through the mouth of a great stone sculpted lion, of which only the paws now remain. Great pools and water systems fed a garden unparalleled in that part of the world at the time. And around it all he placed moats to prevent his brother from reaching him.

Meanwhile, Mogallana had reached India and had indeed raised a vast army. Finally ready to confront his brother and take back Sri Lanka, he invaded and came to the doorsteps of Sigiriya. And there atop elephants he yelled to his brother to come down and face him on the field of battle.

However, heeding the soothsayer’s advice, Kasyapa remained knowing full well the danger of coming within arms length of his brother. And so the siege went on for some days. Finally, and I do not know what was said, Mogallana taunted Kasyapa with something so vile that as had happened with his father, Kasyapa’s mind yet again snapped and all reason fled.

Kasyapa called out to his captains, armed himself and descended from the clouds to ride his war elephant and meet his brother on the field. It is hard to know how much a people can love a king, let alone a mad king for the story says that Kasyapa’s army fled at some point, whether it was by mistake or not is anyone’s guess. However, what is known is that in that battle, fought below the heavenly palace of Sigiriya, the soothsayer’s prediction was fulfilled and Kasyapa met his end.

And so began the reign of Mogallana, rightful King of Sri Lanka.

Photo Album: Buddhism in hiding at Dambulla

It’s kind of unfortunate that the week I decide to put up photos of the Dambulla Rock Temple the event is preceded with something much sadder. On Friday, a bomb exploded in the Dambulla bus station killing about 20 part of a series of blasts and killings leading up to today’s 60th anniversary of independence from the British Empire.

Above all this tragedy and mayhem, however, stands a rock temple created by those who sought to protect the Buddhist religion in Sri Lanka. In the first century BC the Sinhalese King and his followers were exiled and lay in hiding on this rock after being usurped by South Indian invaders. During his time here, he established this monastery and started creating these amazing rock paintings, many of which survive to this day.

Naturally as time went on kings added more and more as kings are wont to do. The result are five caves from different times, each painted floor to ceiling with Buddhist paintings and adorned with rock sculptures.

Unfortunately since this is still an active religious shrine, religious doctrine overrides archeological needs. As such, I was able to use my flash to take photographs within and none of the paintings are preserved in any way. The acidity of visitors’ breath is rapidly breaking down these paintings and destroying the ancient beauty. Perhaps Sri Lanka should consider the future importance of such shrines and bring more of the archeological needs to bear to protect the religious heritage.

Maybe I’m being a bit too sensitive, maybe it’s because I read an entire news article, maybe it’s because I’m in a contrary mind. Today there is an article on cbc.ca which has General Rick Hillier, Canada’s Chief of Defense Staff (Canada’s top military man) saying that hey there’s no way to avoid combat if Canadian troops are stationed in Kandahar. The story is not that special really. But I read through to the bottom and the phrasing struck me weirdly. I quote the last few paragraphs:

He also dismissed reports of an angry phone conversation with the prime minister over the government’s handling of the Afghan detainee issue, saying his relationship with Harper was “solid and good.”

The general said he heard about the reports when he was on vacation in the Dominican Republic with his wife.

“I was on my third rum and Coke and I really didn’t give a damn,” he said with a chuckle.

The Newfoundland-born Hillier said he can accept whatever decision the federal government ultimately makes, as long as it honours the sacrifices made by the Canadians killed in Afghanistan.

I’ve taken the liberty to highlight the phrase in question. I find it interesting that in a lot of articles where Hillier is giving a statement or it’s about the military or his relationship with Stephen Harper, the journalists always point out his origins in Newfoundland. Now, I don’t really mind, heck I would prefer to be known as “adopted Newfoundland and Labradorian Dups” and I think it’s fantastic that a Newfoundlander is atop the military, but why bring it up in this article? In fact I’ve heard this exact same phrase from most media outlets in referring to General Hillier.

So as a proud adopted son of Newfoundland (and I’m making a point as that phrase is also not important), I ask, why is that fact so important? In the article it doesn’t say Ontario-born Harper? Is it so weird to have a Newfoundlander atop the military? In fact I’m not sure I’ve seen such a comment about the birthplace of other Canadian national officials in such articles. Is it common for all Chief of Defense Staff’s of Canada to be so addressed? Maybe we should start putting in more details in all the articles.

“Ontario-born Harper was talking to Newfoundland-born Hillier about the England-born Her Royal Highness the Queen…”

Again, maybe I’m just being a bit picky and sensitive today. It just seemed like such an odd thing to just drop into an article, especially when there is a biography link available from CBC itself if one were so curious.