In the mean time, however, occasional summer issues are planned under what’s to be called the newsmagazine. These will occur roughly every three to four weeks, and (near as I can tell) focus more on campus/city culture than mere campus/city news and events. We did this last year as well, but I wasn’t involved because nobody tells me these things. Perhaps I’ll be contacted this year. After all, the well being of the website sort of depends on it.

As regards the boozepaper, apparently it was the largest issue we’ve ever published in the paper’s 32 year history. I actually haven’t seen the physical issue yet, since I’m no longer on campus these days, but most of the issue is in the PDF on the right sidebar. I say “most” because there’s actually two parts to the issue: the core newspaper itself, and a pull out which contains a poster and beer review. If you want to see the pullout, you’ll find it on the right sidebar of www.thenewspaper.ca under the PDF. Eventually, the two parts will be merged into one PDF file, but I can’t do that myself since I neither possess nor know how to use the correct software; someone at the office will have to take care of that. Hopefully that will be sorted out within a couple of days.

I didn’t actually contribute anything out of the ordinary to the boozepaper; just the usual crossword (albeit a 21 x 21 this time) and a special beer bottle cap “sudsoku.” I also had the opportunity to contribute a brief short story about an alcohol fueled fun time I may have experienced, but I declined to be included when I was told that my photo had to be attached to it. You know, camera shyness and all that. Not to mention that my alcohol fueled escapades tend to be more ruinous than they are humourous.

Speaking of alcohol oriented opportunities I declined, I also decided not to attend not only the annual beer tastings, but also the special tequila, rum, whisky, vodka, and gin tastings as well. This choice was mainly because my alcohol tolerance is fairly abysmal, and not in the “I lose all basic decency after half of a single beer” way. Excessive alcohol makes me physically sick far sooner than it causes me to make poor choices. On average these days, after drinking any more than 2 pints, I begin to run the risk of spending the next day vomiting into strategically placed waste receptacles. High School me would be very disappointed in University me. At any rate, apparently I’m told that I lack what’s called the “alcoholic’s enzyme.” That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

That about covers it for now. If you want to see my spectacular crossword and “sudsoku,” you can find it on page 15. In fact, I have page 15 all to myself in this issue, so I’m quite pleased about that.

Oh, and after my last exam on Friday morning, I’m free until September to do pretty much whatever I damn well please. So look forward to more “Letters from an Editor” if you’re into that sort of thing. I also plan to give this whole “games/media culture journalism” a fighting chance, and have a very special piece about Gravity Bone lined up. Aside from that, it’s four whole months of brushing up on Ancient Greek, refining my knowledge of Latin, and learning either French of Italian.

Should be fun.

Just a heads up that my hosting package for this site expires in about three or four weeks, and I haven’t really decided whether or not I’m interested in renewing it yet. When it expires, I’m not entirely sure what will happen, so I’m not entirely sure what it all means in the grand scheme of things.

In all honesty, I’m not too sure if I’ll renew it. I haven’t really been doing anything substantial with it since… well… ever, if I’m honest, and thus I have a hard time justifying the money I’ll have to pay up front to keep it afloat for however much longer.

I’m not sure, so we’ll see what happens. In the mean time, enjoy the screen cap from VVVVVV which offers a fairly accurate description of my state of mind at the moment: confused, panicked, optimistic, in front of various screens in a bizarrely decorated room (the newspaper office)  and listening to some kick ass music that no one else can hear but me.

Incidentally, VVVVVV is excellent fun. Go spend $5 on Steam and play the damn thing.

At around 9:20 tonight, I came in through the kitchen to grab a glass of water when I saw Chipper sitting happily on my dad’s shoulder as he read the newspaper. Normally, I would’ve picked him up and spent a few minutes playing with him, but for whatever reason, I decided not to tonight. I grabbed my drink and headed back to my computer.

About 10 minutes later, I heard my dad make a ruckus as if some accident had happened. I ran through as I normally do since his errors tend to amuse me, but as it turned out, an accident had befallen my budgie. My dad forgot that he was sitting on his shoulder, and when he had got up from his chair, he leaned back and crushed the bird between himself and the chair. I’m not a vet, but presumably this broke Chipper’s spine.

I came through just in time for my dad to hand him off to me, since Chipper by far thought the most of me out of any family member. In fact, I was in the process of teaching him to fly to my right shoulder on command whenever I snapped my fingers. He’ll never finish learning this trick.

Not to sound too poetic or over dramatic about it, but Chipper died in my hands. He breathed his last in my palm as his eyes shut for the last time.

This isn’t a picture of Chipper, but he more or less looked exactly like this, except for more yellow head feathers.

I occasionally wondered how I would feel if he died, in the same way one wonders what they would do without their own loved ones. Strange as it sounds, I was terribly attached to this poor bird. He always kept me company, tolerated my teasing him, and was reliably at home, happily nipping at his bells, chasing his reflection, and being terrified of his own shadow. He was a great budgie, the sort of reliable companion you always look for in a pet.

Yes, I know he’s just a dumb bird, no more or less remarkable than the millions like him out there. That doesn’t make him any less special to me, however. In fact, I wager that I was just as special to him. He only flew to me, would prefer to sit on my shoulders, and was in damn near constant danger of flying out the door after me whenever I left the house. It’s one thing for something to be your favourite without return, but when that affection is reciprocated, it’s something else entirely. It makes it all the more difficult to let go.

He’ll be a difficult friend to replace, even though I’m going to the pet store tomorrow to buy another one (hey, at least I’ll get to pick my colour this time). That sort of bond with Chipper was over two years in the making, and it’ll take a while to establish such a thing with this new bird. Depending on how sociable he is, it’ll probably take weeks for him to be comfortable enough to leave the cage of his own accord. And can we trust him with his flight wings not to get lost in the house? Not to the make a break for the front door the second he gets the chance?

Poor Chipper… it’s so unfortunate that he left the way he did. At least he had the benefit of dying in the hands of his best friend, but it’s a meaningless comfort to know that he was snatched away in the prime of his life; a young bird who wouldn’t have been due to die for another half decade at the very earliest, if only one of his keepers could’ve been bothered to pay more attention.

In keeping with the Pixar inspired naming scheme, I suppose Chipper #2 will be called Neurotic, seeing as he would have every right to be that way living in such a terrifying place with that reckless ogre who is my father. Bully and Snob would make good names for owning two birds at the same time, I suppose.

And finally, I know a Latin poem about this sort of thing. Catullus wrote this in the first century BC to lament the loss of his girlfriend’s pet sparrow, which is kind of the same thing, I guess. A fitting tribute and send off to a bird that meant a great deal to its keeper:

Lugete, o Veneres Cupidinesque,
et quantum est hominum venustiorum:
passer mortuus est meae puellae,
passer, deliciae meae puellae,
quem plus illa oculis suis amabat.
nam mellitus erat suamque norat
ipsam tam bene quam puella matrem,
nec sese a gremio illius movebat,
sed circumsiliens modo huc modo illuc
ad solam dominam usque pipiabat.
qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum
illuc, unde negant redire quemquam.
at vobis male sit, malae tenebrae
Orci, quae omnia bella devoratis:
tam bellum mihi passerem abstulistis
o factum male! o miselle passer!
tua nunc opera meae puellae
flendo turgiduli rubent ocelli.

Grieve, O Venuses and Cupids, and all men of finer feeling: the sparrow of my darling is dead, a sparrow, darling of my girl, whom she loved more than her own eyes. For he was honey-sweet and knew his mistress better than a girl knows her own mother, and not moving himself from that lap of hers, but hopping around here and there he would sing to his mistress alone: a sparrow who now goes through that dark journey from whence they deny that anyone returns. But curse you, wretched shadows of hell, which devour all that is pleasing. You have snatched away such a darling sparrow from me. O wretched deed! O poor bird! Now through your fault, the swollen eyes of my darling redden with weeping.

Obviously, you would replace “sparrow” with “budgie,” but I’m not sure that there’s a Latin word for that (budgies being from Australia, decidedly never a part of the Roman empire or indeed Roman consciousness). There are other things you would switch out or amend, but in general I just like image of lines 11-16, which I personally find to be rather powerful. At any rate, this is Catullus 3.

Goodbye, Chipper, my first and favourite pet. Just because I intend to replace you so soon does not mean that you’re forgotten. You were a great pet, a true source of joy and companionship. Take comfort knowing that your death truly saddens me, a person who doubts they would be terribly upset if either of their sisters got hit by a bus.

It may be crude, but frankly it’s no less sophisticated than a blogspot page, and at least such a label is no longer part of my URL. In the coming days, I’ll be transferring my body of work, including all my articles and reviews, to this site. The blogspot will stay as it is since that’s not going to expire anytime soon (I’ve only got 11 months left in my plan). I’ll also try to create a more appealing and singular site, and update more often since I’ve got tonnes more control over this place, and thus tonnes more indexing options.

It took me over a year, but I’ve finally got this thing off the ground. Looks like that hosting plan wasn’t a waste after all…

Andrew. G