I’ve stopped going into A channel so I can now be a poet/philosopher/medieval warlord full time now. It is an intense introspective experience. I can see what Thoreau was saying when he said it would destroy most men to look into their soul. If he didn’t say it explicitly it was part of the theme. Certainly others have said it, but it came out as gibberish from the madness of looking inside and seeing what’s there. I don’t mean a cursory look, but to really isolate parts of your identity and examine it piece by piece. Its what i have undertaken now. A harrowing, wonderful, and escalating experience. I’m inspired to try because of the Sages who have done it and have come out the other side speaking truth to beauty. Contemporary Canadian examples include Leonard Cohen and Neil Young, but throughout history Moses, Marcus Aurelius, Confucius, St. Augustine and Lao Tze are included in the mix. I am not these men (women too: Like Simone Weil), I am not even worthy of this web page, or fit for print. I mean last night I was hanging out with hippies and drug whores. I keep company like Jesus, but enough of this mess. I mean what is the point of thinking about ordinary thoughts, look at the interest rates, and price of real estate, I won’t own a house in my meager lifetime!! The whole world has become a twisted version of Tom Wolf’s ‘Bonfire of the Vanities.’ Whatever then, time to mediate on Leonard Cohen and have a glass of Carmen, my favorite red wine originating from Chile. It has a smokey brandy flavor with rich tannins that warms my spirit. That is enough, no need to consider long term interest, when the world is needlessly complex. I should just get a monks name and get on with it. But I still care, even if I will never own a home, there is one thing I have faith will come to fruition. I shall walk on the moon one day. I know technology will bring us there soon as a permanent colony. I’m counting on it, cause I shall own my first home there.

‘The Bridge’ is a strangeland. It has been my flagship bar in the first half of the year 2007. Make no mistake it is a shit hole, but for those who appreciate its charm like my small group of soldiers does, it is place to learn many lessons. We know, because we hear the stories, that this dump was glorious in the 70s, you could not get in without waiting in line, and now it has taken a downward spiral to the point it no longer pays municipal tax, much like the middle age drunks who hang out there regularly. It will be shut down by the city by summer’s end.
It is a momentous event to help a bar that was an institution sing its swan song. Very Kleinesqe. An affirmation of all life, that the cycle comes to an end with dark and wonderful thoughts, like watching those individuals who lives are lived for this bar as they lament because it reminds them of what they wanted to become. I get to see this Willie Lowman spectacle… All this, on the edge as an outsider and about to leave, as all this comes collapsing down, but Im an insider as will in the sense I am there drinking in the late evening hours. Will after sunset with these good folks. Living and breathing, desperately attempting to understand this experience, and what it all means for them. Most wouldn’t give it the light of day for consideration. But I must know what motivates, and titillates the hearts of most men. Not the bullshit packaged in popular movies. The authentic deal, of real people, in real time and space.
I myself try to abdicate the cycle of man. It is trying, and takes most Buddhist monks there whole life, and even then they probably fear there just little men who hide there whole lives in togo’s with no hair (I don’t really believe that) But I for instance have transcended as much temporal and spiritual experience as possible. To just go with the ebb and flows of my meandering river passage. Or may be I’m more analogous to a tug ship in a harbor, or a small shallot off the coast of Newfoundland fishing. Whatever the technique, I try not to worry about the future, cause I know the journey will all end with me drinking with Jesus and dancing the Charleston with Eva Braun.

In the lusty month of May in my first case since graduating law school. I had the priviledge of representing pro bono a hooker who was being forced into a peace bond against her family. It was a case that had everything: Sex, bomb threats, family dispute, and even death. It was a family tragedy utterly on par with anything Shakespeare could derive, yet it was a tale of a mother daughter dispute and both were hookers, so not as noble as a Shakespeare tale… It was no ‘Taming of the Shrew’ I was the lawyer on record for the daughter… here is my story.

This occurred days after completing my law degree, but I had been representing clients for all of law school at community legal aid, kinda like when a medical student checks you out under the supervision of a real doctor, but I was free now of the containment,
and prepared to become a candid, white, and young Johnny Cockrane, you know a real asshole, and best of all this would be my last court appearance in Windsor, so the reputation wouldn’t follow, I could boarder on contempt of court and yell movie lines at witnesses like, ‘you cant handle the truth!’ but add at th end: ‘you whore!’ And then tell the judge who was about to fine me: ‘its all for the best defence of my client your honor’ and then consitutionally speaking he would have to allow my mockery.

One last mayhem event on the seedy side of the law, before I head to the financial capital of the west to pursue corporate law, and raise equity for rough neck mining operators who have young trophy wifes they just married, or what I refer to as the synergy of money and love. I mean its big business, so I need to soak up the white trash criminal law now that I have the luxury for working for free on cases that intrigue my palette, and this case really did have everything: Evidentiary issues. Beautifully and dreamy issues for any defense lawyer. Especially a criminal with an education like myself.

The whole family showed up to berate my client. There was no doubt about it. They were a vicious bunch of fornicators if I ever seen some. Before trial I met with the Crown Prosecutor. I was egging him on to bring the issue to trial, but the established lawyer knew better than to allow this ridiculousness forward, but he tested me first, to check out if I was stupid enough to lose. Of course he withdrew the application (note: I should of winked at him and said, ‘Good move I would of won’). As a maverick I enjoy making government employees like proecutors nervous.
He tested me by saying, ‘you realize this whole family is dysfunctional, why wont your client just agree to a mutual peace bond. I said, “so what! Lots of people are dysfunctional, and believe me, I would love to put a legal leash on all these mutants, but people have rights! And we are good men of the law in a sick sick world,” and besides my client is not to blame here’ (note: she was).

So the client sobbed in happiness when I told her we had won before it ever started, I enjoyed that moment briefly. Then I headed back to headquarters as the client relentlessly thanked me, and I closed the file. Up next in my wacky adventure! Having tea with the lead anchor on A channel monday morning.

April 2007

Calgary vs Detroit, game five, 1st round. It was no miracle on Manchester (that happened before I was born) Instead Calgary lost 5-1. it was no love fest either. Todd Bertuzzi threw Dion Phaneuf over his head. That’s why I admire Todd Bertuzzi. He is the real life “Uber Immortal” from ‘300.’ At 6’3, 245 lbs. Of course after the Steve Moore incident that reduced him to tears, he is careful now about almost killing people. But when you mess with Todd Bertuzzi the old say applies, ‘you get what you get.’
Back up goalie Jamie McLeanan was put in for 18 seconds at the end of the game and he two-handed a Detroit player right in the gut, which in hockey is pretty much the international trademark of a ‘pussy.’ Even for a goalie. Worst of all the guy he hit was named Johan Franzen. Who sucker hits a guy named Jo-han? I was not amused by the spectacle. I prefer my blood baths with a little bit of class and gentlemen flavor. There is no reason when hurting somebody in professional sports to not do it with a little bit of majesty and respect. So Calgary went down which as a Calgarian I felt embarrassed (for once in my life) wearing my Calgary Stampede shirt. I mean letting these Americans come to uneducated assumptions like, ‘Detroit is hockeytown.’ That is a dagger in my heart, I mean if Canadians have any role in international affairs, it is to not let the Americans think they can compare on the rink. Leave it too Iran to fight a nuclear race, and Russia to have an energy battle, and China to spare in the economy realm. BUT WE SHOULD PLAY HOCKEY FUCKING WELL!!! And this result after I go through the relentless struggle of broader security in the post 9/11 era, where I pretty much have to fess up every time, “yes officer, or whatever the fuck you are. I have been finger printed, booked, imprisoned, and this isn’t even my car? but still let me in your fucken country for a pleasant afternoon to eat chili at the hockey game and to drink rum.” Anyway that is one afternoon I cant get back. If Calgary wins tomorrow night, I may have to return on Tuesday for game 7. Screw my securities exam wednesday morning. It may be the major practice area of the firm Im articling with. But I do need to have priorities?? And i cant imagine the next time I will see a game 7, at least until I become the Premier of Alberta in 10 years.

April 2007

Phoenix… Clean well light streets where everyone is happy. And why? They wake up and go to starbucks at 8 am and it is all sunny and wonderful. You wear shorts and smile, and drive convertibles. Naturally I love this atmosphere. It makes me feel all warm inside and home. It is the land of the best type of people. Just average folks who enjoy the sun, and drinking whiskey as they drive wildly through the Sonoran dessert blasting tunes. Speaking of which, that is why I wanted to go on this trip in the first place. I had a dream, or Oracle, if you will, that I was hungry to fill.
I drove through the Sonoran dessert, blasting INXS ‘Pretty Vegas’ and I lived, breathed, and loved it. If I didnt have the urge to go to that particular dessert than I would probably of gone to Vegas, but you must follow your Oracles. I dont know if others feel this as strongly as I do, I may have aztec blood in me or some shit that causes my spiritual dalliances resulting in dropping $1000 to fly out of Detroit to a southwestern dessert.
I think I will move there? I’ve always been of that material, and it will represent the break I need in the tradition of my American citizenship. And it will be comforting every night to know that I sleep an hour away from the Mexican boarder, where I can escape if required. BUT I can also go watch the PHX Coyotes royally suck as Wayne Gretsky embarrasses himself coaching them. Its a pathetic show I don’t mind observing, if only cause watching the greatest sport in the world is a riveting event, when after the being in the cold arena drinking bud light and wearing sweaters you’re ejected back into the scalding dessert. That’s what its about, that aint boring, its pure. Most importantly it lets you know your alive. Speaking of which the Mexican food was incomparable. But that was expected. In summary: Sonoran dessert + Mexican food is glorious and worth my money for the trip.

March 2007

Today Im pondering that question I can never seem to escape. Far too many times than I care to recall, I have been characterized as a wanton criminal. The events of saturday night explain why this has happened again:

I rememeber what happened… I just dont remember why? It was the after party of our graduation diner ( a Kind of Prom for law school). The epicenter of this was a lustful experiment in my crews limo. I remember leaving the party with a small but respectable collection of women. I instructed the driver, “Tony, our next stop is the promised land!” The next two hours was the begining of a ‘gross physical salute’ to all that is possible when there are no limits. Tom was having us make rounds to his drug dealers, Lisa was screaming like a bangee something about strippers, and Debbie was demanding I put lip stick on her nipples as she withheld my scotch…

On arrival at the strip club I was immediately accused of grabbing a strippers ass. Well! I either brushed by her accidently or my buddy Tom is too blame. Either way, I didnt grab her ass. I was actually there to propose to my s.s.g.f, (secrert stripper girlfriend). She is Bulgarian, works at the shitest strip club in Windsor, and I am completely in love with her. So I figuared showing up hammered in a limo wearing a fine suit, with several other women clammered around me, would win her over. As eluded earlier, this was cut short as I was ejected.
I know I would be removed from somewhere that evening, the oracle fortold it, so might as well be a strip club. However when you wear a suit and have a respectful entrouge, and a limo driver named Tony as your security detail, bouncers are very polite when you are accused of being a ass graber. So there was no incident and as of such and I left…. Then blurr blurr I wake up the next day.

The next day for reasons that a varied and confusing (albeit somewhat legitimate) my building managment thinks Im a rotton scum bag who inflicts troubling consequences. A meance to society. Therefore when a window gets broken in a random act. It was instantly assumed that I was too blame. Thats why I got this phone call the next day from my landlord stating, “we know you broke the window, there is witinesses. Your finished Jeff Bone.”

Bull shit. Nice try Manager but your dealing with a pro, who just happens to be innocent for once.

I tell you now people, I am innocent of these charges. Why is it of all the crimes I committed last night, Im being slammed with one I am not connected too.
I think they are now slowly figuaring it out. I believe the real culprits are on the 3rd floor, and the police arrived on Monday afternoon to check them out. But as for me? Yes, when I saw the police I fled, I am a fugative. Like a caged animal I refuse to get cornored. Even though I supoosedly should have nothing to hide. But thats where your wrong and I know better. A person who maintains there innocence are treated worse than Hitler. Take my advice.

Unfortunately, this may be my addiction, to find my way into these matters. Bill Clinton’s got it too, I know some of you got it, cause we have been beside each other laughing wildly as we drive over a cliff of self destruction. Taking pride in a cunning ability to follow only the laws we feel are acceptable impedents on our life. Its not that were lawless. We dont steel, or hurt people, we just ignore laws born out of a groundless nature. Others who follow a more traditional path don’t like us. So they trump up charges and try to paint us as some sort of rappist baby eater… Make no mistake, these moral people are Bastards.

The code of the criminal

Do I have a criminal nature? I know I have a criminial mind. But that doesnt make me a criminal. My mind has been conditioned that way. Cultiivated, if you well, by by Hunter S. Thompson books and experiences of being shackled and whipped by those who think there righteous.
So yes I concede that., but I am a solicitor with a good name. I even pay taxes from time to time. I have a sense of fairness. Its not all jungle warfare. Why do fingers alway get pointed at me? And always for the crimes I don’t commit. None of the real scams ever get called out into the light of day, or even my more flagerent violations go undetected.
Perhaps that why I wake up every night in a cold sweet, and run to my door to see if the coast is clear. That is panic, you would think it is not a good way to live, but it is the only way for me.
I hear sirens and instantly know ‘the collector’ is out for me. Hes had a grudge. Ever since I broke into my elementary school for kicks many years ago and got away with it. I convinecd the securty guard who final caught us, not to call my parents. Oh the collector watches very closly since then. Trying to nab me when Im most vulnerable and least expect it. He has come close, but no dice yet.
I have been on this course since the 3rd grade. I cant stop now, may be if I had been taught to curb my behavoir, but gentle words and a smile have gotten me this far, and there is no turning back. Im all in… I cant just go home quietly like all the others. I prefer orgous limo ride, and full thortle widness.

Just rememeber, never believe what they tell you, unless you have rigorously applied your own logic on to the situation. People are wrong. Talk is cheap. Instead trust crazy wild animals who walk the line.

Remember you can count on me, when they accuse you falsely. Shit will always happen. Keep current, and always act smarter than your accuser. Fight fire with fire, and be a warrior, else a cruel fate awaits us. This is a battle… If we give in, they’ll be nothing left but George W. Bush and homoerotic Veggie Tales yabbering about the Bible. That is terrffiying! So be prepared to fight. I said enough here, so Ill leave this legally sensitive topic for now, and wish you all the best for the spring. (status: still not arrested yet.)

It was only right to set things straight with a few of my contacts across the continent with a small press release on my condition. You may hear some alarming statements uttered in back rooms by people smoking nervously and saying, “Jeffrey Bone was stabbed! The Lebanese independence army freedom fighters moved in on the poor bastard and stabbed him in the back with a double edged ice pick!” So I want to clarify the following facts. It will be in third person as this is a press release:

-Jeffrey Bone was stabbed by an unidentified Lebanese male between the age of 18-25, approximately 5′7-5′9, and 155- 175 pounds on Friday night outside the Calgary stampede.

- Jeffrey was present at the grounds in a luxury box with his associates and brothers betting heavily on chuck wagon races and by all accounts was cleaning the pockets of rich white men.

-Jeffrey left the box around 10pm with copious amounts of Glenfidick contained in 6 large plastic cups, which he acquired through tipping the server a 20 before exiting.

-After consuming the said liquor with his associates Jeffrey Bone proceeded to run through fun houses and hijack rides, which he refused to pay for or wait in line. In fact when he was questioned several times by ride operators and asked to pay- him and his associates laughed wildly, and eventually the operators had no choice but to admit them on the rides. At one point as Jeffrey raced through a house of mirrors a stampede security agent chased after him as Jeffrey yelled, “fuck you G-man, I can run and hide!”

-          Eventually Jeffrey and his entourage left for elbow river casino to play 4-8 Texas holdem. It was at this time Jeffrey encountered the suspect destroying city property. Jeffrey is an advocate of city rejuvenation and respect so insisted the individual apologize and fuck off immediately before further incident occurred. The individual did not respect Jeffrey’s request, so Jeffrey kicked him in the backside with his cowboy boot and said, “Get.” The individual respected Jeffrey’s request this time, and left the vicinity, however the individual returned with a weapon because the prospect of actually fighting Dr. Bone was too intimating for the frightened jailbait sodomite. Therefore a few minutes later Jeffrey Bone was struck in the lower back with a weapon, without even having a fair chance to see his attacker from the front or side.

-           The suspect made a run for it. Dr. Bone not realizing he was stabbed and instead believing himself just to be kicked, turned around and ran after the individual demanding repentance and yelling “a hit and run, what the fuck are you? A Communist! You get the fuck back here and fight like a Roman- to the end. You worship a false messiah with these values.” The individual continued to run in fear. Now for some reason, Dr. Bone believed (and his associates) that the liquid on his jeans was water tossed by the offending individual, and then eventually thinking it was slime, and then eventually Dr. Bone said, “I think those fuckers threw blood on me.” The associates said, “yeah, I think those Lebanese punks threw a pint of blood on you.” Of course things are hazy when you have been jugging Glenfidick at the greatest outdoor show on earth for countless hours.

-          Once at the casino, the doorman informed Dr. Bone his jeans and cowboy boats and even belt buckle was heavily soaked in his own blood, and an ambulance was summoned and Jeffrey was strapped to a spinal board. Later on at the hospital, news was good, after a c-scan, it was determined Dr. Bone could leave with stitches as the damage was confined to flesh wounds, the wounds are two fold, and on his lower back. No Kidney or spinal damages whatsoever.

Dr. Bone personal note: need to borrow a quote from HST:  “ Okay- I am deep im dept to those of your who suffered through the hellbroth of lost sleep and character testing that accompanied my recent attempt to come down from the mountains and live and even  vaguely like a normal, middle aged, middle class, criminally inclined, smart urban male, with a job and a few habits (ask Nichole for details).” Many of you are the keepers of my secrets, and are knowable in my affairs, and so it makes sense you are the people I reach out too after I get…well, knifed by murderous whores who fuck with my city.  So to those of you who I have enjoyed no human or legal congress with for sometime time please stop by my weird and infamous camp in central Alberta. It is a nice headquarters (#4038875757), a suitable place to invite my best and most trustworthy friends for a drink, from time to time. You are all good people, the best minds of our generations, and I will keep you out of jail if necessary, or help you fuck with the Edmonton police service when cruel pathetic cops power trip with handcuffs and cheap sucker punches. (Sidebar: Hunter (T.Boorman) I am with you on this one, and to others in my Edmonton circle, for reasons of sloth and dumbness no doubt, I have not been up during my four month hiatus in Alberta yet, but I will get shit in gear ASAP and load up the Taurus).
 It is important for you to know that I am of course still in excellent condition. Someone in my line of work and hobbies is bound to be stabbed once or so. And of course there should be no doubt that if I bleed awhile, I will get up and walk away relatively unscathed. The great sorcerer makes sure of such things; after all, I am a professional. So never have concern to worry for me. Naturally I am back at work this week, did you expect any less? So if you hear rumors about Lebanese freedom fighters and pussy gangster trying to take out Dr. Bone, know that the parts of the stories involving fast chuck wagon horses, good scotch, fine women, and general lawlessness is all true, but the political implications of the tale is most likely urban legend. I hope this press release clarifies things. End transmission. 

April 2007

And by bastards I of course mean Windsor police. Yes, he was drunk in public, yes he committed the definitional act of assault as according to the criminal code. But don’t we all at some point? Here it is: touching, grabbing, threatening to grab. That bitch (the Criminal Code) is a tighter book than the Bible. But I may be a little glib considering Im sipping chivas after a brutal exam. So Im not being true to my legal interpretation of the matter. Basically it comes down to the fact I am a hard and fast supporter of the belief that if you don’t hurt anybody or cause a bad situation, than WHAT FU-KING CRIME have you committed.?
So I returned home, around 4ish from my personal bar. The headquarters of my freakish events of late, a place where they understand my deeds. I have become known, I study there and shot liquid cocaine shots with the bartender Kyle. He is a good man, fights in some sort of ‘fight club” group, will that’s what he tells me, but Ill I have seen as a witness is him in horrible condition on friday nights, as if he was raped by a fucking Gorilla, so who knows if he fights? or does vicious deeds for the hells angels. Either way he sometimes furnishes me with copious amounts of alcohol until 6 am when I bring several women into his bar. So I am grateful for his friendship.
Back to the night: Richard had been taken downtown. Will I knew my duty is clear immediately. I mean were talking about my twin brother. I was going to go downtown and have a discussion with some cops with a grade 11 education. Was Richard going to be released without charges? Absolutely not, I knew that, I’ve been working a beat at community Legal Aid for the past 3 year as a law student. Trying mercifully to get crack whores and Johns off their charges. Its a good exercise in dealing with monsters and idiots. Try convincing a christian Crown prosecutor to drop charges against a syphilis inflicted John. There are both idiots in there own way, and frankly both whores, but we are off topic here. So Richard was going to be held all night, mainly cause he was drunk as shit. But I had to drive and give reasons to mitigate the incident, so i had a little ‘chat’ with the arresting officer, but of course that ended with threats and legal bullshit which is not interesting to recount. But what is important is Richard is out now, and it seems I have another assault charge in my family to deal with. I have creased this line so often between ‘the law’ and ‘law breaking’ that am developing exactly what this mother of a blog is all about.