Vancouver, Canada.

You can always tell who your good friends are.

When you're together, you never talk about the past.

Sure, you know it's there.

But it's not about that.

There's so much more to talk about.

This sounds like fortune cookie.

Taipei, Taiwan R.O.C.

Everyone is smoking.

The waitress, the chef, the cab driver, women, men, children.

Lots and lots of children.

Philip Morris himself would be proud.

I'm enclosed in a foggy glass cylinder 40 stories above the earth.

Does "smoking makes you die" not translate to Mandarin?

I guess it's a form of population control.

They could not possibly squeeze more people onto this island.

But, aside from that... it kind of reminds me of Canada.

A small nation of colonialists smack dab beside the most important nation on the planet. Shared language, shared culture, different values, more donut shops. Better health care.

A giant tower that was built to draw the world's attention but has ended up in second place.

Taipei is to Shanghai as Toronto is to New York. Smaller, more manageable.

Less variety, more consistency.

A cleaner subway system. A lifelong inferiority complex.

A love/hate fascination with the other side.

The true east strong and free.

Tokyo, Japan

I love Japan. Love love love love love Japan.

A cartoon-wonderland amazing robot happy.

Nonsensical. Working perfectly. Progress. Amazing!

The woman's smile shows joy for happy is upon her.

We all love sunshine.

Paris, France

We sit down at a beautiful sidewalk cafe in the 2e Arrondissement. The waitress comes to take our order.

"Une sandwich rosbif avec frites s'il vous plait."

"Non."

"What do you mean." I ask.

"Zis izz the salad side" says the waitress.

"The salad side?"

"Oui. On zis side you can only order the salad. On the other side you can order za sandwich."

"You want me to physically switch sides of the restaurant?"

"Oui, Moisseur."

"I cannot get a sandwich on this half of the restaurant?"

"Non."

"But I can on the other side of the floor?"

"Oui."

Dead silence.

I start humming the overture from Les Miserables and start pondering ways to rebuild the barracades in the street.

Boston, USA

A fitting observation in Beantown.

Every time you see five males walking together down a busy street you can ALWAYS attribute the characters of the individual members of the New Kids on The Block to each individual member of the group.

This isn't a once-in-a-while thing. This is a law of nature.

It is fact.

In any given group of guys, one of them is always the ruffian. This guy usually has a bit of facial hair, perhaps some cheapie tattoos under his clothes. He is the Donny Wahlberg of the organization. A rough-uncontrollable force who's favorite thing to do is to "look cool".

Then you have the Jordan Knight. The good looking, ambiguous-acting gentleman who's wearing a blazer... because he can. You know that he gets more dirty action than anyone, but you just can't picture him in that situation.

Danny, the ugly one, always has to let his personality shine to make up for a complete lack of talent, skills or balance. There's always one in every group. "The friendly uglies". The ones who make you look better.

Joey was the youngest. And then there was some faceless filler who looked kind of like a rat.

How the hell do I know this?

Toronto, Canada

Everyone wears black. Everyone.

I'm standing out because I'm wearing brown.

Perhaps that's not it.

Perhaps I stand out because there isn't an image of a rotting skull on my clothing? Perhaps I stand out because I don't have homemade tattoos? Perhaps it's something else?

They take the stage.

Their day jobs long done. Drapes of long straight hair cover their faces.

The 'singer' lurks towards the microphone...

"Bcheeeehhh!! FOOOS!!!!! KILLLLL!!!!! AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"

An amalgamation of absurd guttural noises come out of his mouth. He speaks in a voice that sounds like a mean version of the Cookie Monster. The crowd goes wild.

The next three minutes of life blur together.

Death metal is a cultural phenomenon like no other.

Highly intricate and technical. Mind numbing instrumental arrangements. Lyrics that would scare small children if they were intelligible. Something so precise, so vicious and so nonsensical.

Really peaceful countries create the best death metal. The gentle people of Scandinavia are known all over the world for their wonderful social programs and stylish furniture. They're also known as the heart of worldwide dark music.

Scary music comes from unscary places because that is what they do not know. Norweigens and Swedes have no idea what it's like to live in terror, so their artists present the inverse image to the world. Meanwhile, all the music out of such social hellholes as sub-saharan Africa sounds like a cheerful upbeat soundtrack to a Disney parade. Images of smiling bongo players and beautiful dancing colors contradict the harsh reality of waking up in the Congo.

"Canada is a land of social welware and beautiful parks" I think as the second verse to 'Mutilated Vermin' rips through the venue.

Buffalo, USA

Why does your surrounding environment dictate how you feel?

Is it variability of the weather? There’s an effective argument that says that a place where inhospitable weather is a likely occurrence creates a sense of urgency that encourages people to enjoy the season.

This explains why the summer in seasonal places like Toronto, Helsinki or Chicago are so fantastic and worth experiencing. They are temporary moments. You never know how long they will last. You do whatever you can to maximize the experience.

But then… what happened to Buffalo? All of the anticipation and excitement that is the summer seems to have been sucked away by a combination of rust belt sensibilities and the cultural vortex that is Niagara Falls.

The answer is simple.

There is a God, and God hates Western New York State.

The Holy One, Blessed be He, has started the flood here.

You think the Falls are “romantic” and “scenic”? Fools.

You can’t build an ark out of chicken wings, sinners.