content

Patrick Keating

Maiko Bae Yamamoto

Andreas Kahre

Noah Drew

Adrienne Wong

Barbara Clayden

Alex Ferguson

Ilena Lee Cramer

Erin Wells

James Long

what we do

Armour's Rules of Engagement

The following has been drawn from an assortment of conversations, directions, diatribes, and concerns occurring over a number of years, and in no direct way represents the order of events as they may or may not have happened.

Sometime in '78, a young and easy Norman Armour, sporting a full length and multi-coloured trenchcoat and a pair of flip down aviators, drove a Toyota Tercel from the Big Smoke to the smooth ol' Vangroovy. He was chasing a dream. No. He was living the dream. Of becoming the finest Frisbee trickster this green, green city had ever seen. He pulled up to Kits beach pool and made his way over to a small happening of west-coasters, stumbling around in their three quarter length ponchos and one-tone glasses. He pulled out his favorite disc and did what he did best—Tricks. Big and small. Whatever felt right. They watched. They tried to learn. Feeling a little dizzy after one too many behind the back "Armours", Norm strolled back to his ride, his many colours flowing out behind him. He gave her a good pat, hopped in and turned the key. Nothing but clicks. He felt a sharp pain, lifted a toned cheek to find a crushed lens flickering out its last bit of shade. Some punk ass kid came by and stole his disk. He steamed hot, real hot for minute then slowed it down. "Its cool," he thought. "No man, I'm cool. I got my whole life to stress about things." He dropped a tab of the brown stuff, cuz he could take it, lit a smoke and listed out exactly how he would accomplish all that stressing over the next few decades. He used bullets because his head was starting to spin.

The Armour Rules of Engagement

o Get a new pair of shades that can do the same thing without the flip.

o Smoke.

o Rail.

o Chew.

o Continue a devoted research into the Marx Brothers because they ARE funny.

o Order two drinks at a time.

o Find out if anything has been invented yet that can warm cold coffee quick.

o Drop the Frisbee thing.

o Get a proper pad and remember that people respect a man who wears his bathrobe well.

o Start some kind a company.

o Daycare.

o Some kinda performance thing. I was made for it.

o Speaking of which, no matter what anyone says, my one-man adaptation of Intolerance would have rocked the talent show better than that bullshit highland dance the asshole principal only chose because those little high kicking tarts are half Scottish and sport high cut little skirts and he doesn't get shit sure as hell didn't get my one man Woycek in grade three and Christ if he would have woken up during my Genet medley Hey Hey 5 year olds will find it engaging if you give them a chance dumbass.

o Stop with the acid.

o Get new trench coat. Grey. People have to take you seriously.

o Find some collaborators.

o Europeans. Dig those accents. Or at least a guy with a beard.

o And a woman who is taller than me.

o Handke. Try to memorize some Handke.

o Work that system. It needs it.

o Find a nice barber in New York. Long for him.

o Find some reason to fly London - Ottawa - London inside of five days.

o Have some pup carry my bags on the other side.

o Thrive on conflict. If it isn't there stir it up.

o Find someone brilliant to shack up with by 39.

o Be good to her. She'll be so good for me.

o Shape this city.

o Populate it with artists.

o Support the little shits.

o Festival?

o More Euros. They take work but they look good.

o Move on when it feels right.

o But don't go too far.

o I will be needed.

With that he really started to peak, so he stripped down to nothing and made his way into the shallow end, confident that this one horse town had finally found its stud.