Monday, September 22, 2008


When Canada turned 7 she was diagnosed as a musical prodigy. When she turned 12 she was committed to the School Of Gifted Youngsters For The Under Privileged Bourgeoisie Who Are Good At Arts That Have No Measurable Value (that's how she remembered the name, anyway). There she discovered her love for herself and the prospect that if she were ever to take Philip K. Dick's Voight-Kampff test she would have surely failed, perhaps the only test that could have bested her.

Bolstered by her innate abilities, she continued to distance herself from her peers by her good looks and in a revolt against orthodoxy by her talent. Air Canada was destined for arrival at Carnegie, ETA: any time now. Unfortunately, her parents concerned with her lack of social decorum, insisted she enlist with the rank and file at a normal high school. They even made her get and hold a job before she could move on to the bright lights of Seventh Avenue. If their goal was to deny her ambitions of displaying her prodigious talent at a venue which she deemed worthy of her skill, they had surely succeeded. She was now at the mercy of a somewhat disheveled, highly erratic, possibly madman.

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