CONSPIRACY 465 (1)(b)

 CONSPIRACY 465 (1) (b)

Everyone who conspires with anyone to prosecute a person for an alleged offence knowing they did not commit that offence is guilty of

i) an indictable offence…

 

The Sun Still Shines

 

The Boulevards of Hope.

You know, Dear Friends, what I really would like to do is release new music. But financing a project is the problem. If I were to use Ermie Scub as a guideline, it would cost about $CDN50,000.00 to release a comparable LP. Plus promotion and distribution. And I need things such as a practice space and gear. Maybe I will win the lottery or get a Canada Council for the Arts grant.

Many sources including the CBC and Nardwaur and Canadian Composer (which was in the days of CAPAC) have commented on how depressing and down it is. But I submit that the above track is optimistic. And it’s one of my fave tracks on The Life of Ermie Scub.

423 (1) INTIMIDATION

 

Je suis malade. Thinking about legal issues and the pursuit of justice makes me literally sick. I have a psycho-physiological reaction that incapacitates me.

More to follow shortly dear friends.

ONE WAY TICKET TO THE RESURRECTION.

 

“Sure Mel. Maybe you can handle yourself one of them first class tickets to the resurrection.” Scarface (1983) brilliantly penned by Oliver Stone. I haven’t yet addressed the comments in this blog, put please keep them up, they’re great. It’s great to interact with others after so many years off the grid.

Past couple of weeks I have been down to one 70 mg. hit of Vyvanse per diem but I could use additional to be on the ball. But the healthcare system in Nova Scotia is pretty bad and the possibility of me finding a physician that’s a wizard in the field of psychotropic medication is next to impossible.

If only I had been diagnosed and treated for ADD/ADHD years ago, things would be much different.And in case it doesn’t show or hold itself self-evident, I have a bad case of complex PTSD which exacerbates the ADD/ADHD. As it is, I dropped out of high school and three universities and didn’t graduate.

( Humberside Collegiate Institute, where I was student council president. Ryerson Polytechnic University, University of Toronto and the University of Western Ontario.)

However I did complete my training in systems analysis at Honeywell in 1981-1982. That was an experimental military immersion program, a prototype for a future project in which I was essentially brainwashed into thinking all things computer science. One of the things that made it possible to learn so much so fast was to work on sleep deprivation. I actually graduated, but around the same time I was nominated for a UKNOW/CASBY award and won (to my surprise). So instead of making big money in the about to boom field of computer science, I detoured that career to concentrate on my musical career.

ALLMUSIC Review of The Life of Ermie Scub by Laurie Mercer

I thought I would transcribe onto this blog a not bad review of The Life of Ermie Scub by Laurie Mercer of ALLMUSIC. 

ALLMUSIC REVIEW BY LAURIE MERCER

“Canadian John Paul Young (not to be confused with the Brit-pop star of the same era) released The Life of Ermie Scub after leaving his band the Cardboard Brains, a popular Toronto art-punk club band who put out a few records and toured with such bands as Bauhaus and The Stranglers.

A concept solo album (truly solo, Young wrote, co-produced, and played most of the instruments), ERMIE SCUB is a rather bleak tale of an introverted child struggling with confusion and loneliness, trying to figure out his place in a hostile world: “Have You Seen the Boy In the Gutter With the Broken Mind?”.

Musically its a minor synth-pop gem. A postcard from a time when synthesisers offered unlimited possibilities and an electronic rhythm section eliminated the need for drummers and bass players And layered composition was all the rage.

Like much music of this time, Ermie Scub can seem overbearing and pretentious at times, yet riveting and creative at others. fans may hear echoes of Depeche Mode or the British New Romantic groups but when Ermie Scub was released these bands were inn the future. Young’s work here is cutting edge upon its release: innovative and current synth-pop. The club hit “Our Time Escapes” survives well and sounds like a minor Wall of Voodoo hit. Other songs didn’t survive as well, but that doesn’t distract from the overall warped and upbeat pleasure of the album It was a local success for Young, winning a CASBY “people’s choice award for Most Promising artist in 1982.

John young went on to become a successful television actor and re-united the Cardboard Brains on several occasions. A “best of “ compilation which included several solo compositions went quickly in and out of print. So for fans of minimal synth-pop or the Toronto Art-Punk scenes, the only way to hear THE LIFE OF ERMIE SCUB is on the original vinyl. Good luck finding it. “

GET UP STAND UP STAND UP FOR YOUR RIGHTS!

 I penned the last blog early in the morning, sick as a dog. Hence all the typos etcetera. 

But one day I will edit all this stuff. But at least I got some material out. Material that I find difficult to discuss but I ruminate about constantly.aHowever I believe it to be cathartic to publish it in a public forum online.

I discussed the death of my brother in some detail, but not in total detail. Truthfully I would rather not breach the subject but I deem it necessary. I believe I had to mention finding my brothers body to provide context to my nuclear family, the subsequent death of my mother, my kidnapping and my seven bullshit arrests and four wrongful imprisonments. Oh and let’s not forget being forced to survive on the mean streets of Toronto for ten years. And all the while I was being defrauded of approximately fifteen million dollars in cash and assets.

The aforementioned me being “sick as a dog” started with a tickle in my throat and then sort of a cold. I was at “Erica’s” aka The Veltmeyer Estate. And four or three days I lay in bed feeling like my skin was crawling. It’s a miracle of sorts that I actually blogged. I think the lack of formatting and detail can be forgiven. I will “fix it in the mix” so to speak, to use a recording cliche.

After the third or fourth day in conversation with Erica we discussed my “goose pimple bone” (John Lennon: COLD TURKEY”.)

I realised I was going through withdrawal. So I immediately packed my bag, hailed a cab and speeded home. I hurried downstairs to THE BUBBLE where my medication was kept, shaking and trembling as  the blister pack was handed to me and I sped upstairs to my humble abode and swallowed the wack of pills I hadn’t taken in days.

Funny. In two hours I was right as rain. I no longer had COVID or any other dreadful illness. I was cured, praise Jah, I was healed and I’ve been high on life ever since. Remind me to always stay properly medicated. To me it makes me happy to be alive.

I still haven’t detailed the KIDNAPPING ON YORKVILLE but I will detail it exactly as it happened and exactly how I detailed it to 52 DIVISION MAJOR CRIME UNIT, TORONTO POLICE SERVICES.

This is not what this post is primarily about, I just wanted to foreshadow things and get a few issues off my chest.

When the police charge you, they lay on the charges thick and see which ones stick. So I believe the potential charges involved with the two thugs who pulled me into a stolen green Plymouth’s panel van on Yorkville Avenue, as posh and affluent as it is and is supposed to be… at 6:55PM July 2, 2002… the charges involved (and that occurred) were kidnapping , Armed Robbery, Assault, Forcible Confinement, whatever the Canadian term for Grand Theft Auto and attempted murder.

Police could no doubt figure out more and scarier sounding charges.

Oh and the victim was me, John Paul Young, DOB July 16, 1956.

But I didn’t want to get into that. I wanted to write while I feel good.

This part is written a couple of days later:

After reading the copy I had written above for a change, there is a few points I’d like to make in addition.

About discovering my brothers body: After she jerked my head to see my brother’s corpse And I confirmed it was my brother, she jerked my head away from seeing what was him and HUGGED me. That was so thoughtful and professional and important I will always remember.

My malaise was only partially withdrawal. I also had a really bad cold. Have I should say.

I feel my blog and my YouTube vlog which eventually I will run in sync are going well. They’re really rough at the moment but better I motivate in baby steps rather than laying in bed curled up in a ball. Readership and view results are increasing all the time and I really appreciate the comments.

Sorry for the quality of the screenshot of the Yorkville area where the kidnapping occurred.

(Right on Yorkville Avenue off Yonge Street Toronto). I try to supply context for viewers from other countries unfamiliar with what “Yorkville “ in context to the significance of a kidnapping.

Oh here’s another potential charge “assault with a weapon”.

I need a 27 inch iMac. Vayo Con Dios. JPY.

KIDNAPPED! (Continued)…Yorkville, Toronto

 I come from a family of four. My mother Margaret Isabel Young (nee Peace), my father Dr. Robert Goddard Young, my brother, six years my junior, William Robert Stuart Young nd myself, John Paul Young.

My brother died tragically in July 1996 shortly before my fortieth birthday. For the next six years I was the principal caregiver of my two parents.

I was the one who discovered the body of my “baby” brother in his apartment. I was in shock. The attending police officer “Bart”, said to me at the scene “If you ID your brothers body for the Coroner, you’ll spare your elderly parents from seeing their son on the slab.”

So still in clinical shock, the Coroner, a woman, a very nice woman arrived amongst all the others, arrived. She understood what I didn’t: the psychological impact of identifying a loved ones body, dead town days, bloated, cyanotic and with rigour mortis. A ghoulish vestige of his former self.

So I wasn’t allowed to look at my brothers body until the Coroner chose the appointed time.

when that time came, She held my head with both hands and for a moment, which felt like a nano-second jerked my head towards where my brother lay so that I had no choice but to see his mortal coil. She said: “ Is this your brother?” To which I blurted: “Yes.”.

That’s something I will live with the rest of my life.

So for the next six years, as determined by our former family doctor, JERRY ZADYKO, MD I was the principal caregiver of my elderly parents.

I took me five years to function normally, that is normal for myself. By 2001 things were going great, great as they could be living with the memory of my late brother.

I had reunited CARDBOARD BRAINS into a super group, I did KILLER RATS in Bulgaria with Ron Perlman and it all ended with the premiere of GODS, GAMBLING and LSD in September 2002 at The Isabel Bader Theatre (which one a Genie for best documentary) in Yorkville as part of TIFF. The Toronto international Festival of Festivals. That was the end of that portion of my life and career.

My mother died unexpectedly and preventably, I suppose if I were truthful i could say tragically, the day before her birthday in November 2001. My father had turned into Satan incarnate, obsessed with seizing my mothers estate and all assets, even those which were not legally his.

His sadistic narcissistic abuse knew no bounds. (This post is the absolute short Form, to say the least). By the summer of 2002 just months after my mothers death I couldn’t be in contact with my father. Not for his safety but for my own safety. I had numerous professionals implore me to leave.

So on July 2, 2002 I loaded up my diesel VW Jetta and proceeded to leave for Vancouver.

I told only three people I was leaving. Actor Jason Barbek, writer Christine Wrigglesworth and CARDBOARD BRAINS Executive Producer John Gundy.

(I have to continue this in another post this is too hard on me. And forgive me but at this moment in time I can’t be bothered editing.)

And my thanks to whoever quoted T.S. Eliot in the comments section. Eliot is one of my favourites. Now that I am Sixty six years of age I keep thinking to myself: “I grow old I grow old, shall I wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled? Do I dare eat a peach?” 

Additionally, in the comment section about cut and paste etc. Unfortunately I am still confined to my IPad.

COMPILATION BOOTLEG CONTINUED!

I discovered amongst a mountain of paper the container the replicated CD came in, and it is from DODAX AG, OBERNEUHOFSTRASS 10a 6340 BAAR SWITZERLAND.

Here are the two side by side for comparison:

Notice the difference in the spines. One BLACK and the counterfeit one OPAQUE.

Well I think that is interesting. I really more INTERESTING would happen.

I used to have pints in the evening twenty years ago, just before all hell broke out in my life at a pub in Etobicoke near where I lived at Islington and Bloor Street West. Called The Squire and Firkin.

There were a variety of interesting dudes that I hung out with, one being Curtis Smith, a drummer who toured across Canada with Janis Joplin. He was only 17 at the time and couldn’t understand why this good looking guy followed her around everywhere. That good looking guy was Kris Kristofferson.

Another notable figure was a very smart fellow who I will dub IBM ROB.

    

JOHN PAUL YOUNG and CARDBOARD BRAINS COMPILATION BOOTLEG!

Amongst the unfortunately limited discography of myself  and CARDBOARD BRAINS is 1998 digital compilation of all the vinyl releases. Above you can   see the original, which has a BLACK spine.

I found on AMAZON when I was scouring the internet, which I am prone to do, a copy of the compilation CD. Having lost all my possessions including all of the mint rare vintage vinyl that I had archived diligently, I am forced to buy up copies of my own records and CDs from collectors.

I purchased the compilation CD, and when it arrived from Switzerland I could tell it was a reissue because  it was an exact duplicate except for the fact that it has an OPAQUE spine. To tell you the truth it remains unopened in shrink wrap, but yes it is an exact reproduction.

This morning I cannot locate the package it was shipped in to publish the company and address. It is here somewhere amidst the chaos on my desk, a product of my ADHD mind.

Sometime later when again scoring the internet, I discovered a listing for the unauthorised release (they were out of stock) on a UK website. And the website cited the label as EMI.

I’m not pissed at the rip off, I wish EMI would release the compilation.

In my opinion the compilation is pretty good and fans are pleased with it.

I crammed as much music is I technically could. 79 minutes is the most information you can get on a CD and that’s what you get.

About the only criticism I received was a fan from NOW magazine in Toronto, who complained there were no liner notes. If I ever get enough capital or someone becomes a patron I will re-release it with comprehensive liner notes. Or maybe EMI will.