Hello Folks, Fans and Freaks!

Dr.Jay Cole here, writing to you from the sweltering heat of Ottawa Ontario. The Humidity is INSANE! and since humidity is relative, there is no way of explaining this heat with mere words, it is truly something you must experience first hand to understand.

As a valid member of the East Coast, I have never experienced anything like this before coming to Ontario. We are basically trapped in a valley of heat. Thankfully, we have a few weeks of Music Festival to attend, drink beer, and keep cool. Yes, I am speaking of the stage toppling Bluesfest, (where only 1% of the artists are actually playin ‘the blues’)

And so, two Saturdays past, myself with DJ Sir K, attended the festivities. As you all know, Dr.Jay is a champion of ‘The Truth’ and sometimes kids, when you attend a music festival you tend to get “fucked up”. And yes, we got royally “Fucked Up” that evening.

After rolling around through the party grounds, waiting 1/2hr for Erika Badu to join the stage, listening to the weird sounds and visuals of Sphongle’s psychedelic experience, and rocking out to The Tragically Hip for the first time, we rolled our asses back home.

At this point, I thought it would be great to setup all the equipment and gear for The Jerk Off Hour ahead of time, so that I could sleep in the next day before my guest was to arrive at the regularly scheduled time of 3pm. Little did I know, I had re-scheduled the show for an earlier airtime of 12 noon! And yes, at 12 noon my guest, and hopefully still good friend Troy Neilson, was banging on my door and txting me whilst i slumbered peacefully inside, oblivious to anything from the outside world.

I woke up at 2pm that day, i had breakfast and prepared my notes for the show. 3pm came, Troy is a very punctual person and so when it was 3:15 i began to worry, i grabed my cell phone to check if Troy had msg’d me and yes, there were two msg’s from him! the first said “I’m ten minutes away!” and the second said “I’m knocking on your front door!”
I immediatly ran to the front door, swung that shit wide open, and nothing. I glanced back at the txt msg to see that it had been sent at 12 noon whilst i slumbered. Sad face.

The following Saturday… Again, with Sir K and also with Joe MacEachern, we attended more Bluesfest! This night was simple, one show, Janes Addiction. But could we stop from getting royally fucked up? Oh Hells No! Not only did we get royally blitzed at Bluesfest, but afterwards, we went to another night club in town (Because bluesfest is over at 11pm when the City’s noise curfew comes into effect)

A lady friend of Sir-K’s had invited him to this venue. We arrived at Babylon on Bank Street, one of the best bars in town if you ask me, and we went inside. At this point, I ran into an old friend of mine from last summer, Britain, and bought the lovely lady a drink, or two, i cant remember… She asked if i was here for the show, and I had no idea what show or what was happening at this place, and she explained that it was a Burlesque show with Dj’s spinning in the background. To top it all off, it was also a “No Pants Party” and so everyone was in either shorts, boxers, underwear (yes, tighty whities) and the ladies were in panties/bra’s, short shorts, short skirts etc… It was hard to tell who was a burlesque dancer on stage, and who was a regular event attendee. Needless to say… it was WICKEDBAD!

The next day we found ourselves still awake, with a sleep talking friend passed out on the couch. And so, again as 3pm rolled around, we were in absolutely NO position to be talking to anyone out there in the public realm. And trust me, the entire episode would have been all “uhhh…” and “uuummmm….” and quite frankly, we don’t want to sound like retards on the radio.

So kids, if you are going to get royally blitzed in any way shape or form the night before you have an important radio show to attend, please think twice before you lose your guests trust, and the following of your fans!

I am currently dog sitting one my favorite dogs, Indica! And so I will be kept in line and forced to live a normal, scheduled, routined life for a few days, and hopefully Indy will keep me in line! Nothing like a 200lb Rotty to do that!

This week, on Sunday at 3pm, we have Mat Archer aka BassMonk dropping in to leave us with a taste of what Ottawa has deliver on the Trance/hiphop front lines.

Also, as an important update, we will be including a “Links” section to the site, so that listeners can click on the news links and read them with us as the show happens, or, if you are a lazy asshole like myself who doesnt want to search for shit while listening to a podcast, then… great! Buy your Membership card by clicking on the banner!
intuit.wickedbad.net/internet-radio

Peace, love, and happyness-ness.
Dr.Jay Cole

Hello folks, fans and freaks!

Today’s story is in reverse; where I will attempt to tell the story of how Doctor Reverend Jason Cole came to be. Enjoy!

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The adventure is far from over but for now I am quite content with the beautiful woman who loves me and signing my name everywhere I go as Doctor Reverend Jason C. Cole.

I now patiently await the arrival of my official doctorate papers after already receiving my ordination papers from The Universal Life Church in Modesto California who offer many valuable online courses to their members.

For years I had been unknowingly writing about the study for which I now hold a degree. Metaphysics is the study of existing, and it had caught my attention while searching through The ULC’s website.
You see, I wanted more credentials because being an english teacher and signing my name as Reverend Cole was not enough for me. It had taken only three days for an actual human at the ULC to approve my ordination. I was looking at their Church because I had learned through Wikipedia that Dr. Hunter S. Thompson had aquired his Doctorate through The Universal Life Church back in the 70’s and I wanted one.

After learning more from the wiki article I was reminded of the movie staring Bill Murray titled “Where The Buffalo Roam”; Muray would take on the role of Hunter’s likeness. That along with these other great films: Breakfast with Hunter, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and Depp’s documentary “Gonzo: The Life and Times of Thompson” were downloaded and watched repeatedly. I had been researching Thompson because I knew not much of the man who I considered a Hero. That all happened after I had been thinking back to my years as a jackass stumbling around drunk and high during College, and I had also seen some new pictures posted online from Halloween where I dressed as Dr. Thompson.

My Blog had been a huge success with people beginning to click around like madd on my lists of idiosyncracy’s (These are things I had observed in the past such as cleaning the house, showering, or wasting time). I had posted some of these old writings online after opening the vaults and digging them out.
Each week I have been writing something new in the Blog relating to the universe around me. At first it was a great success amongst my friends and family only. The blog came into existence after a need for an outlet because my songwriting had decreased exponentially.
Entertainment was now the strict purpose for music as I had no longer wanted it to reflect myself or my own beliefs and morals.

There was definitely a newfound dislike of the music industry brewing inside of me and I needed to sever all ties to who I really am deep inside from the character I played on stage.
All of this free time I had was spent in New Brunswick after graduating from the TESOL Course. I had needed time to re-group and figure out some life issues. I had attended the course in Halifax Nova Scotia that enables me to Teach English to Speakers of Other Languages, although I cannot teach in an institution in Canada without further degrees, I can teach private tutoring here or teach fulltime overseas.

“Oh. Thanks friend, and I’m not acting!” a stumbled jargon of words loosed from my lips however vaguely discernable after one was heard remarking “Wow man! You’ve realy captured the character!”
I had been at a house party when I stumbled through a crowd of drunk and stoned freaks making my way to the kitchen to mix more pirate juice with eggnog.
The character compliments came due to my ensemble of flowered shirts, a smoke holder, aviators,
and a shaved horseshoe hair-cut in my head that was covered by a white fedora.
A few weeks earlier a friend had mentioned that I should dress as Thompson for Halloween of 2009 where I was visiting old roomates in Ottawa, Ontario.

Five years had passed and during that time I had managed to write a fiction novel and finally be content with it. Previous short stories would always wind up in a dead end or written into a corner. At first I only wrote more songs, but I had made a descision to break free from the confines of music and explore words and language with indepth writing experiments. With music, there were always many limitations and after college, iNTUiT was the only one to develop my writing skills.

My college years ended off with a project on Ralph Steadman who was Thompsons good friend and illustrator. It only made sense that I had discovered the writing works of Hunter S. Thompson during the years when I worked on building my Graphic Design portfolio along side Journalism students in college.
In my early twenties, I had found that pushing it to the brink of no-return seemed to be the way of life in my city of Moncton, New Brunswick. I was fascinated with the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and how they pushed the limits. All this because I was a musician trying to live the dream of Sex, Drugs, and Rock n Roll. Stage performances were done by iNTUiT, he is an alter ego I had created because I had developed a mild case of stage fright in school and the new found love of writing had been spawned from within
when a change occured, and I had started writing song lyrics during lunch breaks in high school with a good friend instead of doing artwork.

My art had gone on for years and would continue for years to come. I wasn’t like the other kids. I did not get involved in sports, or go outside very often due to a developing of asthma and allergies at an early age.
Drawing would always be a large part of my life. I went through rolls upon rolls, books upon books, and crates of looseleaf. I started drawing at the early age of three after being urged to use the equipment donated. My father didn’t have a great deal of money to take us out on adventures and imigination would take reign. Pens, pencils, and paper had been sent to my father in New Brunswick from my Grandmother during her time at the base where she had access to an abundance of stationery supplies. She worked at a military base in the nearby town of Shearwater while living in Eastern Passage, Nova Scotia until 2008 when she passed.

Thanks for the talent Nan, I know you are smiling down.
God Rest Your Soul.

Peace \ /
Dr. Reverend Jason Cole

Walkers:

i am a fast walker. i live in Canada and it’s fucking cold outside for 6 months of the year. Canada is commonplace to find people jetting around like crayzed lunaticks as we run for the bus; run for the cab; run the for walk signal; run for whatever appointment we’re almost late for because we left late due to the damn frigid temperatures! i also have long legs.
Today i decided to bundle up for the weather and since i had no time frame of where i had to be i sent a message to my legs via the brain; “Slow the fuck down!”
Here are things i noticed whilst walking slowly from the hospital to HMV on Spring Garden road.

1. People are not dressed for the weather. It’s freakin cold out so why do i see people in cardigans shuffling along ever so rudely as they push others aside with a “Get ouf of my way! its fucking cold out!” attitude as if they had no control over their body temperature today. Cover up! Problem solved, now you don’t need to be a douchebag and push the old people out of the way, old people who have learned from their mistakes and are now properly covered up for the time of year we are in.

2. The world went and got itself in a big damn hurry. Cold weather is not always a factor in the rush, for these same folks trudge around in their blurry tunnel visioned rat race during the warmer days as well, only there are more of them out on the street in the summer therefore slowing the crowd.
Everyday we invent things to make our lives more simple. Now i don’t have to do ‘that’ anymore, therefore i have ‘this’ much more time left for myself at the end of the day. Not true. No matter what form of time saving devices we come up with, there is still not any more time left at the end of the day. If i were to purchase a time-saving device, and show my schedule at the end of the day and how it has not improved, could i return the machine for a full refund? Return my computer or software packages? what if you returned your vehicle? i do believe there is a matter of false advertising at hand here. Enough false pretenses! Tell the truth damnit!

3. Don’t feed the Ostriches, they bite! i learned the hard way, but if you can make off with one of their eggs, it will feed your family for a month.

4. Women pushing baby strollers that take up the entire sidewalk will strut down the lane taking their sweet ass time, blocking everyone, holding up the flow. i suppose they feel some societal debt is owed them after poping out a few offspring. Maybe they are right? this leads into number five, which i was a part of myself.

5. Nobody likes a slow-walker. I was pushed, nudged, commented to, stared at, gigled at and made a complete fool of myself doing my research for this report. When i walk slow, i sort of glide along in a smooth flowing motion; unlike the drones pushing ever forward to the piece of cheese awaiting them at the end of the maze, never knowing, that it will only be ‘process’ cheese.
“Move it!”, “Hurmph!”, “Sigh!” and “Ugh!” are some of what i remember hearing after that horrible walk today. These people are zigzagging across the sidewalks like the ball in a pong game; chickens with their heads cut off; nobody has any form of order when they walk, they are like complete retards, they have one single destination in mind and everything and everyone else in between them seem to be made up of some form of obscure obseleteness. It must be like moving through a crowd of ghosts when you’re the only one alive in Hell, never worrying about any of them as actual humans, never caring if they are in your face, and then it happened, i learned why this is true.

“Hey buddy can i have some chan…” and there it was. A walk-by-begging. Again almost immediately “Hey you got a smok…” another says as he passes by in a big rush not even stopping to hear my answer. I shake my fist and turn my head away towards the street in the rudest manner possible.”No!” i blurted out,
“i don’t smoke tobacco! it gives you wrinkles!” but he was already out of range. A couple of the dark colored pea coat blurs flying past stopped for a split second, long enough for me to see their expressions of disgust that i had given out personal commentary on a public street. Who was i to enact my freedome of speech in this city, and who was i to be walking so god damn slowly? Could it be that these walk-by-beggars are the reason everyone is in their own personal ipoded ‘zone’. Do they not want to deal with the harsh reality that walks past them in their own city? When i finally made it to HMV, i spent a good half hour scouring their cheap, foreign and underground indie films, during which the entire time a girl came over and pretended to ’sort’ movies from behind me on the next shelf, each time i would move to the left, she would nervously follow me.
i had noticed upon entry that there was no longer a macho superman body builder posing as a security guard this holiday season, perhaps they passed the buck down onto their lowly employees to save the buck that was previously spent on saving bucks via protection officers. Lowly employees don’t give a fuck about theft because that’s a job for security, and they start to question the sanity of their overseers.
A sales associate made eye contact with me on my way to the checkout, i was in line for only a few seconds before the same employee came rushing back for my sale. “That’s right you skinny little punk, run for my dollar!” i yelled.
“Excuse me?” he questioned
“You heard you me, you were in a rush to go that way a few seconds ago” i pointed to the back of the store
“And now you’re in a rush to get over here… make up your god damn mind”
The clerk looked at me with a wry smile and said “This movie looks good, i’ve heard great things about it”
“Sure you have!” i snapped sarcastically at the poor young lad “You people say the same thing each time i come in here!” i grabbed the case from his hand and i asked him “What’s it about?”
Panic flowed across his face like a frantic river during the spring melt.
“What?” he stuttered to save time before i made a complete fool of him.
“What, Is, The, Story… About?” i retorted.
“It’s uhmm…”
“People explode!” i yelled! “Jesus, lets get outta here Jay.”
The clerk, not understanding my schizo ways continued on his regular pace of existing.
Now at the front doors, i pause for a second to put on my gloves. i had carried my laptop case causing the knuckles to redden on my trek over here. During that brief moment, a beautiful young five foot tall blond girl flies out, nudges me aside letting out the last *Sigh* that i would hear for the day’s adventure. This entry room we were in was big enough for fat people to pass by without any disturbance. It was at this point, that i realized maybe people were only reaching out to one another for some form of sympathy or concern. Perhaps they were looking for some form of reaction from me or they sensed my inner freedome and wanted to try and shake me down to their level? More hopefully, they wanted to climb the tree i was in, and maybe live in my tree house? We shall never know the answer until i start asking some hard questions. Questions out on the street. But who, in their speedy little minds, will stop to talk to me? Not the ones i want answers from, that much is for sure.
And so tomorrow, when i attempt to get someplace in this god forsaken land of ice and snow, i will be among the groups of flyers, zoomers, jumpers and freezers as they zing along ever bitterly, and ever so heat seekingly through the maze of icey streets we call Halifax.

Peace \ /
Dr. Jay Cole