I don’t really talk much about myself on this blog. This is a conscious decision; I decided going in that this blog was about awesome things like sci-fi, fantasy, video games, and writing. By comparison, I’m pretty boring. This is my blog, but it’s not about me, per se.

However, I’ve been posting here multiple times per week for over three years now, so perhaps it’s time I let the readers get to know me at least a little bit.

I now present you with a rambling list of fun facts about me, presented in no particular order.

On the subject of me:

I have never set foot outside of Canada, but I have looked out across the Atlantic from the tip of Cape Spear, gone on road trips so far into Quebec no one around spoke English, crossed the Straight of Juan de Fuca by ferry, and hiked in the old growth rainforests of British Columbia.

My favourite colour is purple.

My favourite band is Metric, but my favourite song is King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men, and if I was to pick a song to be “theme song of my life,” I’d go with All These Things That I’ve Done by the Killers.

The song I want played at my funeral, however, is Invincible from World of Warcraft. That or Help, I’m Alive by Metric, purely for the irony.

I have trouble picking a favourite television show. It’s sort of a toss-up between Star Trek: Enterprise, The Simpsons, and Futurama.

My favourite book and my favourite movie are one and the same: The Lord of the Rings trilogy. I might as well count them all as a single volume, since I can’t pick a favourite from the trilogy.

My favourite video game character is Jim Raynor. I don’t believe I could pick a single favourite character from books or television. Candidates from literature include Cryl-Nish Hlar, Xervish Flydd, Seda, R.M. Dahl, Michael Liberty, Samwise Gamgee, Remus Lupin, and Kellen Tavadon. Candidates from television include Jean-Luc Picard, William Adama, Hoshi Sato, Dr. Phlox, Quinn Fabray, Bert Hummel, Karl “Helo” Agathon, and Dr. Zoidberg.

Similarly, I love food far too much to ever settle on a favourite meal. Potato roti could be a strong candidate, as would be aloo chole with puri. My father also makes surprisingly good falafel for a WASP, so that could be in the running. Or maybe a bowl of sambar with a nice side of naan…

My favourite sound is wind blowing through the trees.

My all-time favourite video game is Warcraft III. My current favourite game is The Secret World.

My favourite time of year is winter, though autumn is a very close second. I despise springtime, and I have little love for summer.

I have only ever broken one bone: my skull. I leaped out of my mother’s arms as a baby and fell head-first onto a concrete floor. I am apparently lucky to be alive, and luckier still to have suffered no brain damage as a result. I was so young at the time that I have no memory of any of it.

I am neither a dog person nor a cat person. I am a rat person.

In the past, I ran the international campaign to save Star Trek: Enterprise for several years. This is the same campaign that held large public rallies and raised several million dollars to fund a new season (unsuccessfully), though such heady days were long past by the time I took over. I mostly just organized letter-writing campaigns and publicity drives for our petition.

The worst movie I ever saw was the remake of Bewitched starring Nicole Kidman and Will Ferrell. Having my testicles electrocuted for ninety minutes would have been less painful.

The happiest I can  ever remember being was reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix in bed on the eve of my fourteenth birthday, as a thunderstorm raged outside. This could be interpreted as a sad commentary on my life to date.

I have never set foot in a church.

I stole the name of this post from a Kids in the Hall sketch.

I have not cut my hair in nearly fifteen years. It’s not as long as you might think, though.

I am of primarily British and Nordic descent, meaning there is an excellent chance that, 1,000 years ago, my ancestors on one side of the family were raiding my ancestors on the other side of the family.

I am a chronic insomniac. Sleep is for the dead.

We are now only a few weeks from the opening of the winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia. Normally, I’d be abuzz with excitement. I’ve talked before about how much I love the Olympics. The Olympics are about pushing humanity to its fullest potential — physically, yes, but also spiritually.

The Olympics are a time when all peoples of the world can gather together in fellowship. The borders between us cease to matter. In the Olympics, I see the seed of hope for a better future for the human race, a unified future like we see in fictions such as Star Trek or my own World Spectrum novels — the superior realities from which this blog draws its title.

But this time, there’s a damper on the festivities. By now, we’re all familiar with Russia’s draconian new laws against homosexuality and the controversy this has placed on the Sochi games. Some people feel the games should be boycotted over this, while others argue we should press ahead.

I feel incredibly torn.

On the one hand, few things offend me more than ignorant intolerance: racism, sexism, and homophobia.

Sometimes I think it’s strange that I get so uppity about gay rights. Despite my fondness for Glee and complete lack of traditional masculine traits, I’m not gay, and nor are any of my closest friends or family (as far as I know). I have no horse in this race. Oppression of gay people has no significant impact on my life.

But then again, shouldn’t injustice offend us? Doesn’t persecuting people for who they are or who they love diminish humanity as a whole at some level?

Homophobia just seems so wrong-headed to me.

I’ll be honest: In public venues like this blog, I try to put on a friendly demeanor, but the truth is I’m a nasty bastard. I hold most people in contempt, and I have little use for concepts like kindness or compassion. I’m a bitter husk of a person with an icy void where my soul is supposed to be.

But despite this — or perhaps because of it — even I recognize that there isn’t enough love in this world. I can’t for the life of me comprehend why anyone would want to stand in its way.

And honestly, who the Hell cares what consenting adults do in the privacy of their own homes? What difference does it make?

But then again, I’ve always felt that the Olympics are about bringing people together. Even people you disagree with. Even your enemies. Even those you despise.

And it’s not like this the first time the Olympics have been held in a nation with a spotty human rights record. China’s abuses are well-known. I used to live in the largest community of Tibetans outside of Tibet or Nepal; I remember being stopped outside the local cafe by Free Tibet activists who told me of the dozens of monks who had self-immolated in that year alone to protest the oppression of their people (I signed their petition). I’m quite familiar with the horrors perpetrated by the Chinese government.

But yet I was still eager to support the Beijing Olympics. I did so because I believe the Olympics are about encouraging the best aspects of us rather than punishing our mistakes. I did so because I believe the sense of global community provided by the Olympics is too valuable for us to allow the crimes of one nation to stand in its way. I did so because I know that not everyone in China is as monstrous as their government.

Can not the same logic apply here? I’m sure many people in Russia are not homophobic thugs. Is it right to condemn the entire nation based on its ugliest components? Is it fair to break the Olympic fellowship over the crimes of a few? It seems to me that, in a way, that is bowing your head and admitting that hate is stronger than love.

Perhaps the Olympics might even help to bring some enlightenment to Russia. The government can try to crack down all it wants, but the views of the world will trickle in when so many nations gather together. Perhaps it might open some people’s eyes to the idea that gay people are not a bogeyman to be feared.

Still, this all seems so wrong to me, in a way even China’s abuses don’t. Maybe that’s wrong. It seems cavalier to rate various forms of oppression against each other, but again, nasty bastard, so while I’m being honest, I do find oppression based on someone’s sexual orientation to be slightly more distasteful than political oppression. You can choose not to oppose a tyrannical government. It’s a terrible choice that no one should ever have to make, but it’s an option all the same. No one can choose not to be gay.

It’s more complicated this time, too, because there was a clear alternative. The IOC could have chosen to move the games to Vancouver. They still have all the necessary facilities leftover from last time. They have the resources and the manpower. If memory serves, Vancouver actively volunteered for the job. God knows us Canadians are never going to turn down the opportunity for a big winter sports party.

This would have sent a clear message that Russia’s anti-gay crackdown is unacceptable, while still preserving the Olympic fellowship in a way a boycott could not.

This makes me feel further distressed because it seems to show the Olympic Committee doesn’t care about Russia’s oppressive new law. They had a way to disassociate themselves from these cruel practices, and they ignored it. That makes the Sochi games feel all the more tainted to me.

So I just don’t know how to feel. Should I embrace these games as I have all others, or choose not to support them? Either feels like a betrayal of the Olympic principles and a concession of defeat to the tides of ignorance and hate. Supporting the games is ignoring all the Russian government has done, but spurning them is allowing intolerance to steal the games from us.

Granted, I realize it doesn’t matter much in the greater scheme of things. It’s not like the IOC is sitting there thinking, “Damn, we lost the faith of some anonymous Canadian kid with a blog! We gotta straighten up and fly right!”

But it’s important to me personally.

If you’re looking for me to come to some conclusion or offer a clear point, I’m afraid you’re destined for disappointment. I don’t have any answers. I’m just… sad, and confused.