I mean I guess that was a good segue to get me here, but why was the last page in Polish? Well simply—and later, difficultly—put, it is to pay homage to my roots. I don’t know if you would believe me if I said my grandfather immigrated to Canada from Sapaniv, Poland, arriving in Halifax on April 20, 1926, after a nine-day voyage from Copenhagen. See, I don’t know if you would believe that I have traced my white lineage back almost 200 years to Chroustov, Třebíč, Czechia. I don’t know if you would believe me, so what’s the point of me saying it? To tłumaczenie tak naprawdę nic nie znaczy. Niemniej jednak sprawdziłeś to, więc chyba cześć, jak się masz?
In 2024, I found out that there’s a guy who looks exactly like me and lives on a pig farm in Langley. At first, I laughed when I heard about him. “Yeah, okay buddy. People see what they want to see.” But then, I saw him. It wasn’t just the resemblance. It was the way he looked, the way he gazed. His eyes were full, and empty. The way his hair curled. He has my face and I doubt he even knows who I am. He wakes up early. Goes to the gym. Works on projects. Watches videos that nobody else does. We’re different though. The things he does. Doesn’t do. The things I don’t. The things I do. Implicit Coercion. Perceptual Misdirection. You remember, don’t you?
They gave my face to some nobody with calloused hands and a simple life. They scrubbed me clean, threw a hoodie on me, and set me free in Langley, where I wake up early, go to the gym, work on projects and watch videos that nobody else does. How is it possible that I go to sleep on a farm and in my own bed?
What does this all mean? Listen, the reason you are here is because you wanted to wet your whistle, give me a second it’s not even yet moist. So far, this has nothing to do with basketball. There hasn’t even been the mention of the word ‘sport’ up until five words ago. There’s a reason for this. This is just a roundabout way of getting there.
Years ago I took a creative writing class at the world renowned Shadbolt Centre for the Arts. The instructor, an old, grizzled man who goes by the name Yeli, often muttered phrases like “Your words are your paint and the world is your canvas.” He allowed me to see the world through the lens of a pen cap and taught me the importance of perspicuity. That is the epistemological quintessence of articulative transparency, ensuring that conveyed ideas are devoid of obfuscation. I know you just glossed over that last sentence. Maybe you skimmed over everything here so far. Stop. Just take a few minutes to read. Actually read. They say to captivate an audience, there must be a hook or theme that is compelling. Gimme like 300 more words to take a stab at it.
Imagine if we lived in a world where instead of striving to win, we strived to lose. Nothing would be worth doing. I can assure you we wouldn’t be here. We’d be somewhere else, further away, still on the distinct search for meaning. We are drawn to things more because of our perceived idea of them rather than the idea itself. We don’t dream of becoming an astronaut just to exert our minds and bodies in ways that very few can, but rather to look down on Earth and see how far we’ve come and what we left behind. Now, where we land is that, Life is the sum of all our choices. It is almost impossible to think that every choice, every decision, every idea you have ever had is because of what the people before you did.
With that I say, thanks grandpa, thanks for getting on the SS Oscar II.
Now, this is not meant to give you new perspective or eventually lead you down a path to become some type of new being. This is madness. All I’m saying is that you’re here reading this. In this moment, you’re here. Regardless if you think any of what has been said is real, there is one thing I need you to believe. I can assure you with all of the fact checking that could possibly be done, the next thing I say is 100% true.
For roughly the price of three (3) Brown Sugar Oat Cortado’s from Starbucks, you can join the Madness.
We are all striving to win. For Madness. There are prizes, side bets, features, and of course, the reason we wake up in the morning and commit 8+ hours to the man, there’s the money. Besides the bracket, your mind, and the game, what do you really have to lose? But hey, if you do, maybe somewhere, somewhere else, this calls for celebration.