Remember back in the day when Clinton was president and we actually took steps, as a nation, towards balancing the budget and getting us towards a situation where we might possibly someday be able to NOT owe trillions of dollars?
Well, Congress just upped our credit line AGAIN, this time to $9.815 trillion, which according to Reuters is the fifth time the Bush administration has raised the limit. You know what the debt was when he took office? $5.6 trillion. Jesus fucking Christ. He's almost doubled the national debt in the six and some years he's been in office. Will the insanity never end? Fox pundits were just bitching recently that NASA is spending $500 million on an 8-year trip to space. Now, I agree that NASA spending could possibly be used better elsewhere, but according to 2006 reports, the war in Iraq costs nearly $2 BILLION a WEEK. I mean, come the fuck on. Let's get the hell out of Iraq and we could spend billions and billions on developing warp drives and finding sexy alien races to mate with, and we'd STILL be saving money.
Apparently, though, there's some good news to the equation that I stumbled upon while reading sites about national debt. According to this guy over at The Skeptical Optimist, the national debt is growing at a slower rate than our national GDP, which means that percentage of the GDP that our debt represents (it currently hovers around 64%, ranking us at like number 20 out of all nations for the highest debt) is, in fact, dropping. I guess this is good news overall, though it doesn't so much change my opinion of the Bush administration wasting money willy-nilly on war and stupid abstinence programs, but hey, I'm no economist, so maybe I should butt out of the debate over how much money we owe.
Heck, take Japan from that list of countries by their public (a.k.a. national) debt! They owe 175.5% of their GDP! Guess it sucks to be Japan right now.
Anyway, this website is wicked financial and Republican, but the kind of Republican that makes a lot of sense and is hard to argue. If only Bill-O and Sean Hannity weren't raving lunatic racists and could manage to spout off something mildly intriguing every once and a while. So I get all this guy's arguments about the economy, but still side more with democrats because I don't think a ragingly good economy logically leads to States providing social programs for their residents like they would have us believe. But maybe it'd get that way if we were all rich and happy; we might develop love for our neighbors? I dunno. I kinda lost my point here.
Oh right, I hate Bush and he's wasting my moneys in some desert in Iraq killing people. I'd much rather he spent the same amount feeding starving children or something socially responsible. But I guess I'll just get back to dreaming.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Existence, or The Day Google Found Me, part 1.
This morning, I opened my inbox and found one from SiteMeter, which tracks the (pretty lame) traffic to my blog. Since I added it, I've had 100 hits to my blog, which is kind of sad, but kind of awesome at the same time. Now most of these were site hits from Brennon's blog and, after I posted my Halloween Review at Final Girl, hits from her blog. Not until today's list did I get hits from random people on the internet.
Most of these random hits are oddly from image searches for "Pathfinder" "The Movie Pathfinder" "Pathfinder viking face" and "movie posters," all directed at the poster I put up for Viking Women and the Sea Serpent. Word. That's totally awesome that someone found my blog through that.
Not so awesome, or perhaps awesomer, is that the only regular Google search that turns up my blog is "bosoms." I need to get moving so I can have some crazy linkages to blog about until I have a giant self-referential blog of nothingness. yay!!
Most of these random hits are oddly from image searches for "Pathfinder" "The Movie Pathfinder" "Pathfinder viking face" and "movie posters," all directed at the poster I put up for Viking Women and the Sea Serpent. Word. That's totally awesome that someone found my blog through that.
Not so awesome, or perhaps awesomer, is that the only regular Google search that turns up my blog is "bosoms." I need to get moving so I can have some crazy linkages to blog about until I have a giant self-referential blog of nothingness. yay!!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Perquisites, or Why Some Words Should Die
While proofing a powerpoint deck (kill me, God) today, I came across the word 'perquisites,' which naturally I assumed was an idiot's misspelling of pre-requisites, so I highlighted it and moved on with my day, feeling a little bit better about myself in the process.
Upon giving this expertly noted adjustment to the original author of the .ppt (I should be shot), I was informed that this word (Yes, Virginia, this is sadly a word. [ed. note: I f'ing like punctuation in parentheses, despite what the nazis over at the fracking Elements of English Grammar would have you believe]) is the original source of the commonly used word 'perk,' as in, 'My job has sweet perks, like hookers at the Christmas party and free booze on Fridays!' I'm sorry...
PERQUISITES? That is the stupidest f'ing word I have ever heard in my ENTIRE life, coming a close second to 'nite,' 'brite,' 'lite,' and 'rite,' the creators of which I sincerely hope are stuck headfirst into Cocytus with their toes being gnawed on by evil grammaticians.
Now, I'm not only humiliated for having incorrectly spotted a spelling error, but deeply and irrevocably disturbed at the fact that 'perquisites' even exists and will forever be a part of my lexicon, no matter how many bloody bloody marys I down in the hopes of burning it out of my brain with vodka and worcestershire sauce.
At the end of the day though, I can still (though with new difficulty) hold my head high, knowing that the beeyotch still spelled 'the' as 'th' and used the word 'area' twice in one sentence, when the first 'area' should have been 'candidate,' which is totally not at all related to 'area' and thus HA HA HA.
That's my perquisite for the day! Because if that's not a privilege or profit incidental to my regular salary or wages, I don't know what is.
Upon giving this expertly noted adjustment to the original author of the .ppt (I should be shot), I was informed that this word (Yes, Virginia, this is sadly a word. [ed. note: I f'ing like punctuation in parentheses, despite what the nazis over at the fracking Elements of English Grammar would have you believe]) is the original source of the commonly used word 'perk,' as in, 'My job has sweet perks, like hookers at the Christmas party and free booze on Fridays!' I'm sorry...
PERQUISITES? That is the stupidest f'ing word I have ever heard in my ENTIRE life, coming a close second to 'nite,' 'brite,' 'lite,' and 'rite,' the creators of which I sincerely hope are stuck headfirst into Cocytus with their toes being gnawed on by evil grammaticians.
Now, I'm not only humiliated for having incorrectly spotted a spelling error, but deeply and irrevocably disturbed at the fact that 'perquisites' even exists and will forever be a part of my lexicon, no matter how many bloody bloody marys I down in the hopes of burning it out of my brain with vodka and worcestershire sauce.
At the end of the day though, I can still (though with new difficulty) hold my head high, knowing that the beeyotch still spelled 'the' as 'th' and used the word 'area' twice in one sentence, when the first 'area' should have been 'candidate,' which is totally not at all related to 'area' and thus HA HA HA.
That's my perquisite for the day! Because if that's not a privilege or profit incidental to my regular salary or wages, I don't know what is.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Robert Jordan
So, I found out via text from Becky Rupp at 7:36am that Robert Jordan had died last night. It was kind of a weird bit of news for me to be honest. I mean, first I was shocked and disbelieving, but then I got to work and saw news stories and realized that it was true. Then I naturally thought of the long-running joke (though I guess less funny in the past year or two that he's been incredibly sick with some rare disease) that he had better finish up the Wheel of Time before he died, or he'd have a lot of angry fans to answer to. Sadly now he won't have to answer to anyone because he died while still writing the 12th book in the series, set to be the final one, wrapping up an epic that has spanned 73% of my lifetime. He published the first novel when I was 6, though of course I didn't read it until probably Freshman or Sophomore year of high school.
I can't even tell you how many days of my secondary educational career were spent with one of his novels gracing the corner of my desk, allowing me to sneak a few pages at a time whenever waiting for class to start, or after finishing busy work early, or while eating lunch. Since first finishing what was already written of the series at that point, I've re-read it with each successive book he has released, about five I believe. It's become almost tradition for me to read the whole series (9,353 pages, as of book 11) each year, just to refresh myself of its brilliance. Not that the series didn't have its low points or its problems, given that some of the later novels were a bit bogged down by the overabundance of plot and characters and advanced little of the story.
Regardless of that, though, the series he has crafted since 1990 is, to me, the landmark acheivement of fantasy writing. It contains the most complex characters, the densest plots, the most imaginative and immersive reality, that I have ever encountered in a fantasy/sci-fi novel. The characters that he brought to life for me as a teenager have remained with me, having been my constant companions during those years.
He built, using the tropes and standard elements of basically every fantasy novel ever, a unique and fully realized world that has not only entranced my imagination from the moment I opened The Eye of the World, but all things considered, probably absorbed a significant portion of the time I've spent on this Earth, whether through actual reading, online roleplaying (the truest form of geeky homage) or lengthy, passionate discussions with other fans.
It would have been hard enough next year to have said goodbye to the world, the characters, and the mythology of the Wheel of Time, but it is by far harder to say goodbye to the man who created the series that is one of those staples of fantasy writing that fans of the genre will continue to talk about for years. And harder still to think that he died before he could finish his greatest work, one that was so clearly close to his heart and one that helped him fight so hard during his illness.
I took a moment to read through the post his brother left on Robert Jordan's blog, announcing his death, and I confess that seeing Jordan's words used to describe people's loss in the comments section made me shed a few tears of my own for this great man:
“Till shade is gone, till water is gone, into the Shadow with teeth bared, screaming defiance with the last breath, to spit in Sightblinder’s eye on the Last Day.” - Ryan Breen
"Tai’shar Manetheren" - DZ
"May you shelter in the palm of the Creator’s hand Robert Jordan. And may the Mother’s last embrace welcome you home." - Gwydion Quatar
"Ars longa, vita brevis." - Vincent
‘Duty is as heavy as a mountain, Death is as light as a feather.’ - Roshan George
"The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Seventh Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind arose from the Final Breath of James Oliver Rigney, Jr.. The wind was not the ending. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was /an/ ending." - Kotan
---
As the blog announcing his death says, "the Dragon is gone." Rest in peace, Robert Jordan.
I can't even tell you how many days of my secondary educational career were spent with one of his novels gracing the corner of my desk, allowing me to sneak a few pages at a time whenever waiting for class to start, or after finishing busy work early, or while eating lunch. Since first finishing what was already written of the series at that point, I've re-read it with each successive book he has released, about five I believe. It's become almost tradition for me to read the whole series (9,353 pages, as of book 11) each year, just to refresh myself of its brilliance. Not that the series didn't have its low points or its problems, given that some of the later novels were a bit bogged down by the overabundance of plot and characters and advanced little of the story.
Regardless of that, though, the series he has crafted since 1990 is, to me, the landmark acheivement of fantasy writing. It contains the most complex characters, the densest plots, the most imaginative and immersive reality, that I have ever encountered in a fantasy/sci-fi novel. The characters that he brought to life for me as a teenager have remained with me, having been my constant companions during those years.
He built, using the tropes and standard elements of basically every fantasy novel ever, a unique and fully realized world that has not only entranced my imagination from the moment I opened The Eye of the World, but all things considered, probably absorbed a significant portion of the time I've spent on this Earth, whether through actual reading, online roleplaying (the truest form of geeky homage) or lengthy, passionate discussions with other fans.
It would have been hard enough next year to have said goodbye to the world, the characters, and the mythology of the Wheel of Time, but it is by far harder to say goodbye to the man who created the series that is one of those staples of fantasy writing that fans of the genre will continue to talk about for years. And harder still to think that he died before he could finish his greatest work, one that was so clearly close to his heart and one that helped him fight so hard during his illness.
I took a moment to read through the post his brother left on Robert Jordan's blog, announcing his death, and I confess that seeing Jordan's words used to describe people's loss in the comments section made me shed a few tears of my own for this great man:
“Till shade is gone, till water is gone, into the Shadow with teeth bared, screaming defiance with the last breath, to spit in Sightblinder’s eye on the Last Day.” - Ryan Breen
"Tai’shar Manetheren" - DZ
"May you shelter in the palm of the Creator’s hand Robert Jordan. And may the Mother’s last embrace welcome you home." - Gwydion Quatar
"Ars longa, vita brevis." - Vincent
‘Duty is as heavy as a mountain, Death is as light as a feather.’ - Roshan George
"The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Seventh Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind arose from the Final Breath of James Oliver Rigney, Jr.. The wind was not the ending. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was /an/ ending." - Kotan
---
As the blog announcing his death says, "the Dragon is gone." Rest in peace, Robert Jordan.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Blogging from Thailand?
Sup?
So, my cousin Jordonne, who got engaged over Christmas break last year to this red-headed dude named Rob, just embarked on Monday with him on a trip to Thailand. They are volunteering to teach English and other assorted good deeds to orphans and small children, bless their sweet hearts. She, following in the footsteps of millions of other travellers, started a travel blog to track their experience there (I believe they went for like 3 months, or 6 months or something.)
Their blog can be found here. Clearly, Jordonne has a penchant for exclamation marks and taking awesome pictures of monks in orange robes (this is why I love her).
All in all, I am insanely jealous of her trip and now I want to quit my job and go volunteer in Thailand. How awesome! Brennon already wants to quit, it could be a genius idea!
She's learning Thai and cooking Thai food and seeing lots of sweet Buddhist temples and all that jazz. It's my understanding as well that the dollar goes a reaaaaally long way over there, which is nice, cause it doesn't go anywhere over here. I was reading up on Thailand and their version of Buddhism (the oldest, in fact) and I still want to learn more about it. Anyone want to go to a Buddhist seminar sometime? Anyone know Where we can find such a thing? There were some vaguely creepy people Brennon and I saw near Brookline Village at some meditation place that I found in my interweb scourings is a Buddhist place, but they seemed...weird, so I don't know. Anyway, read her blog. Yay for Thailand. And so on and so forth.
So, my cousin Jordonne, who got engaged over Christmas break last year to this red-headed dude named Rob, just embarked on Monday with him on a trip to Thailand. They are volunteering to teach English and other assorted good deeds to orphans and small children, bless their sweet hearts. She, following in the footsteps of millions of other travellers, started a travel blog to track their experience there (I believe they went for like 3 months, or 6 months or something.)
Their blog can be found here. Clearly, Jordonne has a penchant for exclamation marks and taking awesome pictures of monks in orange robes (this is why I love her).
All in all, I am insanely jealous of her trip and now I want to quit my job and go volunteer in Thailand. How awesome! Brennon already wants to quit, it could be a genius idea!
She's learning Thai and cooking Thai food and seeing lots of sweet Buddhist temples and all that jazz. It's my understanding as well that the dollar goes a reaaaaally long way over there, which is nice, cause it doesn't go anywhere over here. I was reading up on Thailand and their version of Buddhism (the oldest, in fact) and I still want to learn more about it. Anyone want to go to a Buddhist seminar sometime? Anyone know Where we can find such a thing? There were some vaguely creepy people Brennon and I saw near Brookline Village at some meditation place that I found in my interweb scourings is a Buddhist place, but they seemed...weird, so I don't know. Anyway, read her blog. Yay for Thailand. And so on and so forth.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Frack
I am such an a-hole!
I posted about Battlestar Hottie and totally forgot to make a sad, lonely use of Frack instead of Fuck. How sad and lonely am I? Missing out on such an easy reference to the show about which I was talking. Such an opportunity can't possibly come again.
GOD! LOSER!
FRACKING FRACK FRACK.
I posted about Battlestar Hottie and totally forgot to make a sad, lonely use of Frack instead of Fuck. How sad and lonely am I? Missing out on such an easy reference to the show about which I was talking. Such an opportunity can't possibly come again.
GOD! LOSER!
FRACKING FRACK FRACK.
Battlestar Hottie
After a long, arduous wait, I finally got to start watching Battlestar Galactica recently. I'd heard many good things about it, including Joss Whedon's endorsement of it as the best TV show ever (which seeing as he is my god, predisposes me to love this show), but at every turn, I was thwarted by the TV Nazi (aka Jase, big kiss love you mean it) who would not allow me to watch it while I still hadn't seen Weeds. Well, now I've seen Weeds (also hella awesome; get it? Hella, cause it's set in Cali??) and so my BSG viewing began.
It starts innocently enough almost as though someone is giving a tour of the Enterprise, but a hotter, less gay Enterprise, when lo and behold, it's muthafuckin' Stands with a Fist! Instantly, I became gripped and my pulse pounded along with the indian-like drums that signified drama in this amazing show. (Aside: is it funny that Stands with a Fist is in a TV show where they use Indian drums? Feather not a dot.) At this point, I was excited on one hand by Mary McDonnell, but on the other...ehhhh...it's not that gay!
When I watch space shows, I want gay. I mean, Riker=gay. Sure, he does hot bitches just like Picard, and he has that manly beard going on. But! He also reminds one of a big furry Bear and you just know he and Worf had some hot bizness goin' on after-hours. Totes gay. But Battlestar Galactica was sorely lacking. It has that pseudo-lesbian looking Starbuck (pretty gay name too!), but no sexxxy mens.
UNTIL, guess who steps aboard? Captain Apollo climbs out of his "cock"pit looking sassy and prissily exasperated. As we can see from his gay-ass namesake, Apollo clearly prefers his lovers to be ripped, athletic types. Gay gay gay.
So, from this point on, the show basically is renamed Battlestar Hottie and centers around the romantic problems of Captain Apollo. Who needs evil robots when you have gay relationships? And when, for God's sake, is the bathhouse episode??
It starts innocently enough almost as though someone is giving a tour of the Enterprise, but a hotter, less gay Enterprise, when lo and behold, it's muthafuckin' Stands with a Fist! Instantly, I became gripped and my pulse pounded along with the indian-like drums that signified drama in this amazing show. (Aside: is it funny that Stands with a Fist is in a TV show where they use Indian drums? Feather not a dot.) At this point, I was excited on one hand by Mary McDonnell, but on the other...ehhhh...it's not that gay!
When I watch space shows, I want gay. I mean, Riker=gay. Sure, he does hot bitches just like Picard, and he has that manly beard going on. But! He also reminds one of a big furry Bear and you just know he and Worf had some hot bizness goin' on after-hours. Totes gay. But Battlestar Galactica was sorely lacking. It has that pseudo-lesbian looking Starbuck (pretty gay name too!), but no sexxxy mens.
UNTIL, guess who steps aboard? Captain Apollo climbs out of his "cock"pit looking sassy and prissily exasperated. As we can see from his gay-ass namesake, Apollo clearly prefers his lovers to be ripped, athletic types. Gay gay gay.
So, from this point on, the show basically is renamed Battlestar Hottie and centers around the romantic problems of Captain Apollo. Who needs evil robots when you have gay relationships? And when, for God's sake, is the bathhouse episode??
Forum Trolling and Plot Mulling
So, Brennon and I are wicked excited about NaNoWriMo. Well, I am excited paired with a squirmy anxiety about him out-writing me in this year's installment. To mentally prepare myself and stock up on advice, I'm already trolling the forums to scope out the competition. As always when I view these forums, I am struck by how much time people have to participate in this. Some of these people won last year's NaNoWriMo with 110K+ words. That's just insane. I mean, that's like 3K words a day. Who does that?
I'm still toying with ideas for plots and ideas for non-plots. Sometimes I think it may be easier simply to start writing and let the plot go where it will. When it comes down to it, if you let go of "coherency," there's really no hole out of which you can't write yourself. I mean, so your main character dies? Then they can explore the afterlife and find a way to resurrect. Or say your character and plot are dragging, with little to no direction and a boring as hell story... Simply make then board a spacecraft and turn it into a space opera. Or hell, just turn it into a musical. Maybe I'll write a novel that is insanely trippy and just make random shit happen without explanation. Could be fun and kind of ridiculous. Currently, I'm imagining a female protagonist with a pretty much blank personality. I was just reading a thread about Mary Sue's, which are characters that are incredibly talented for no reason but that they are the main character and they exhibit no or very few (and minor) flaws. They are generally well-liked, attractive and insanely cliched. I don't want a Mary Sue for a main char. So I need to either come up with a few believable flaws or I shall just make her a non-hero. I'm leaning towards this at the moment, maybe even making her the villain, though I don't know how convincingly I could pull off a novel centered around the villain.
But I'd like to make her maybe a bit like Nynaeve al'Maera - an angry, hot chick who kicks ass. Or maybe not. All of Robert Jordan's chars tend to be a bit Mary Sue-ish, so I may avoid that route. I'd like to write a story about an average person who skates by somehow but without gaining extraordinary power. But I think I do want to set it in a fantasy world, horse-fantasy as Brennon would say.
I can't yet decide whether I'd like my main char to be live in a city or the country. I don't really even know what sort of plot I'd like to do, but it could be fun to make her run around by herself in the wilderness for a while, make her run into some crazy shit and what not. I dunno, anyone have any fun ideas of who my char is or what I could do with her to start off. I'll probably just let the plot develop as it will, unless I can come up with something I like. I still want to write people into the novel like I planned last time. What say ye?
I'm still toying with ideas for plots and ideas for non-plots. Sometimes I think it may be easier simply to start writing and let the plot go where it will. When it comes down to it, if you let go of "coherency," there's really no hole out of which you can't write yourself. I mean, so your main character dies? Then they can explore the afterlife and find a way to resurrect. Or say your character and plot are dragging, with little to no direction and a boring as hell story... Simply make then board a spacecraft and turn it into a space opera. Or hell, just turn it into a musical. Maybe I'll write a novel that is insanely trippy and just make random shit happen without explanation. Could be fun and kind of ridiculous. Currently, I'm imagining a female protagonist with a pretty much blank personality. I was just reading a thread about Mary Sue's, which are characters that are incredibly talented for no reason but that they are the main character and they exhibit no or very few (and minor) flaws. They are generally well-liked, attractive and insanely cliched. I don't want a Mary Sue for a main char. So I need to either come up with a few believable flaws or I shall just make her a non-hero. I'm leaning towards this at the moment, maybe even making her the villain, though I don't know how convincingly I could pull off a novel centered around the villain.
But I'd like to make her maybe a bit like Nynaeve al'Maera - an angry, hot chick who kicks ass. Or maybe not. All of Robert Jordan's chars tend to be a bit Mary Sue-ish, so I may avoid that route. I'd like to write a story about an average person who skates by somehow but without gaining extraordinary power. But I think I do want to set it in a fantasy world, horse-fantasy as Brennon would say.
I can't yet decide whether I'd like my main char to be live in a city or the country. I don't really even know what sort of plot I'd like to do, but it could be fun to make her run around by herself in the wilderness for a while, make her run into some crazy shit and what not. I dunno, anyone have any fun ideas of who my char is or what I could do with her to start off. I'll probably just let the plot develop as it will, unless I can come up with something I like. I still want to write people into the novel like I planned last time. What say ye?
Friday, September 7, 2007
Catchin' up
I'm sorry, but I absolutely will not allow Brennon to post more blogs this month than me. I figure I can just post utterly random stuff and win this contest (that exists in my own head) pretty easily.
So the other week, I ordered this nifty little journal type thing to use a notebook at work, but it's all faux-leather bound and with some design on the front (I didn't see this when I ordered it), so I always see it and have the urge to write a journal entry. This is perhaps good for my writing motivation, but perhaps bad for the fact that I can't just bust it open and start scribbling away the way I would like to.
I'm very, very excited to watch Battlestar Galactica again tonight with Brennon. Once he finishes the mini-series I can start watching it again and not have to feel guilty. Whee!
Mayhap I'll take this moment to compose a little description scene of someone's bedroom:
The cheap, lightweight wooden door pushed into the room silently, gliding easily on its hinges. A small pile of abandoned shirts, boxers and socks lay randomly on a skewed pile in the center of the room adding a faint smell to the air that seemed to suggest against closer inspection. The hardwood floor gleamed dully, its once presumably brilliant polish obscured by tangled clumps of dust and hair, out of which dangled miscellaneous appendages of nail clippings, string and paper. This mismatched collection of debris lay scattered, divided by piles of books, cd cases and occasionally furniture. Several bookshelves, inexpertly created out of boxes and rough, splintery plywood held an eclectic collection of books spanning most genres with a heavier emphasis on self-help and books on the supernatural. A few discarded glasses containing various amounts of water stood in a small clump next to the bed, as though a rather inefficient way of stopping a leak which did not exist. The bed itself hardly deserved the name, being as it was an egg crate lying on the floor with a stained sheet on top.
Along the edges of the room, paint chips littered the floor, presumably fallen from the peeling walls. Several water stains crept down the walls, dotted with the holes of years' worth of tenants putting up pictures and posters to make the living space a bit less dingy. Its current resident had no such frivolous additions, instead allowing the room to speak for itself in the low, muttering voice of poverty. In the dirty bed lay a large man, facedown, his long and stringy black hair spread around him like a diseased corona. His naked body was fairly covered in a light film of dirt and grease, intermittently streaked down his back and sides with lines of where his sweat hat done its best to clean him--and failed. His pale skin still held a fading memory of the flush of life within it, but his body lay utterly motionless except for the occasional scutter of a potato bug across his back, each time trailing a drop of two of blood from where its mandibles had consumed part of the newly made corpse.
---
I wish I could write faster. Boourns.
So the other week, I ordered this nifty little journal type thing to use a notebook at work, but it's all faux-leather bound and with some design on the front (I didn't see this when I ordered it), so I always see it and have the urge to write a journal entry. This is perhaps good for my writing motivation, but perhaps bad for the fact that I can't just bust it open and start scribbling away the way I would like to.
I'm very, very excited to watch Battlestar Galactica again tonight with Brennon. Once he finishes the mini-series I can start watching it again and not have to feel guilty. Whee!
Mayhap I'll take this moment to compose a little description scene of someone's bedroom:
The cheap, lightweight wooden door pushed into the room silently, gliding easily on its hinges. A small pile of abandoned shirts, boxers and socks lay randomly on a skewed pile in the center of the room adding a faint smell to the air that seemed to suggest against closer inspection. The hardwood floor gleamed dully, its once presumably brilliant polish obscured by tangled clumps of dust and hair, out of which dangled miscellaneous appendages of nail clippings, string and paper. This mismatched collection of debris lay scattered, divided by piles of books, cd cases and occasionally furniture. Several bookshelves, inexpertly created out of boxes and rough, splintery plywood held an eclectic collection of books spanning most genres with a heavier emphasis on self-help and books on the supernatural. A few discarded glasses containing various amounts of water stood in a small clump next to the bed, as though a rather inefficient way of stopping a leak which did not exist. The bed itself hardly deserved the name, being as it was an egg crate lying on the floor with a stained sheet on top.
Along the edges of the room, paint chips littered the floor, presumably fallen from the peeling walls. Several water stains crept down the walls, dotted with the holes of years' worth of tenants putting up pictures and posters to make the living space a bit less dingy. Its current resident had no such frivolous additions, instead allowing the room to speak for itself in the low, muttering voice of poverty. In the dirty bed lay a large man, facedown, his long and stringy black hair spread around him like a diseased corona. His naked body was fairly covered in a light film of dirt and grease, intermittently streaked down his back and sides with lines of where his sweat hat done its best to clean him--and failed. His pale skin still held a fading memory of the flush of life within it, but his body lay utterly motionless except for the occasional scutter of a potato bug across his back, each time trailing a drop of two of blood from where its mandibles had consumed part of the newly made corpse.
---
I wish I could write faster. Boourns.
First line?
So, I think perhaps the best way to handle NaNoWriMo is to go about it the standard way and just write it in a word document and upload it to NaNoWriMo at various points to check my word count. I'll try to avoid placing myself on a schedule as long as I am making decent progress, but I think I'll also avoid plotting it out like I did last time. I mean, it took me a good 15-20K words just to write my first chapter, so if I plan too much, I won't be able to write any of the actual plot. I would like to try just having a first line like I did 2 years ago and then go from there.
Therefore, I'd like people to suggest a really stellar first line. I'll think about that line in the coming months and hopefully by November, have a sketch in my head of at least where I want to start out given the first line.
I think I may also attempt some writing exercises in this blog once in a while just to give myself a little practice writing fiction, specifically dialogue and such. Maybe I'll even get the hang of it and not get so hung up on dialogue when writing my novel. I'd love to be able to just bang out dialogue easily, even if the dialogue isn't great. I just have a self-editing problem when writing it and can't manage to just write like I can with description and such, I end up analyzing whether a line is good or not, which sucks when speed-writing a novel.
So anyhoo, first lines anyone?
Therefore, I'd like people to suggest a really stellar first line. I'll think about that line in the coming months and hopefully by November, have a sketch in my head of at least where I want to start out given the first line.
I think I may also attempt some writing exercises in this blog once in a while just to give myself a little practice writing fiction, specifically dialogue and such. Maybe I'll even get the hang of it and not get so hung up on dialogue when writing my novel. I'd love to be able to just bang out dialogue easily, even if the dialogue isn't great. I just have a self-editing problem when writing it and can't manage to just write like I can with description and such, I end up analyzing whether a line is good or not, which sucks when speed-writing a novel.
So anyhoo, first lines anyone?
Thoughts on NaNoWriMo and blogging
It struck me last night that NaNoWriMo is just under two months away and I've yet to plan anything for it. I think I may avoid the path I took last year of planning out a plot and backstory for my characters and instead just sit down on November 1st and start clacking. We'll see though. I welcome anyone's thoughts and suggestions on topic, plot, characters, genre, etc. I was so psyched about the idea of writing a cheesy fantasy novel, but it turned into me narrating a video game, which was less fun.
But damnit, I'm determined to finish this year! I got to like 24K last year before I was derailed by Final Fantasy XII. I know that Mass Effect comes out in November, but I'm going to avoid it like the plague. I just won't go near an Xbox360 until December or until I finish my novel. This time around I have a laptop too, which will really help, because I can park my lazy ass in front of a cup of coffee at Starbucks and clack away to my heart's content, which is a much more conducive environment to writing for me than sitting at home with all the inherent distractions of that.
I keep thinking perhaps a mystery novel would be fun, but then I'd definitely have to plan and I don't have any faith in my mind's ability to come up with a believable twist, let alone multiple twists that I'd need to have a halfway entertaining mystery novel. Fantasy seems the easiest route, cause I can just make up whatever I want, but I tend to get paralyzed by the options presented to me and flounder. I may go with magical realism, cause that would also give me lee-way to sort of do whatever I want without totally switching genres, but then I think it'd quickly spill over into straight up fantasy, so I might as well start with that. I really liked my story idea last time and I'm still bitter it didn't work out the way I wanted it to. It was fun doing research for my novel in the MFA , but it sort of fell apart once he went to the fantasy world. Perhaps if I stuck with a fantasy story set in Boston, that would work. It could be like Buffy, except not. But I mean, that show was based in a town and didn't jump dimensions like retarded Angel did, and they had lots of fantasy stuff. I could have my guy be involved or get involved in some sort of group that fights evil. Or maybe he can be a vampire and I'll write a gay vampire fiction. I'm sure that's easy enough to do. A little blood here, some goth music there, some gay sex over here and a title like 'Seduction of Darkness' and I'd be all set.
What say you, readers of LB&S? Should I go this route, or something different? Should I attempt to tackle a novel surrounding the mysterious and pendulous bosoms of a stripper on the run? Maybe the stripper can be a supernatural detective and my novel can rip off CSI and add monsters? Maybe? No?
Also, I learned yesterday that NaNoWriMo teamed up with Blogger (in 2004) to do NaNoBlogMo, where you write your novel as a blog. I wonder if I should do that this year. I mean, that way maybe it could be like a choose your own adventure. People could read what I've written and comment on where they would like to see the novel go, which might spur some ideas from me and help keep me motivated throughout the month. Do any of you readers feel any interest in keeping up with my 50,000 word novel in a few months? I won't bother doing that as a blog if no one will read it, but it could be fun. Like a serial drama. With really bad writing. Yay? Nay?
But damnit, I'm determined to finish this year! I got to like 24K last year before I was derailed by Final Fantasy XII. I know that Mass Effect comes out in November, but I'm going to avoid it like the plague. I just won't go near an Xbox360 until December or until I finish my novel. This time around I have a laptop too, which will really help, because I can park my lazy ass in front of a cup of coffee at Starbucks and clack away to my heart's content, which is a much more conducive environment to writing for me than sitting at home with all the inherent distractions of that.
I keep thinking perhaps a mystery novel would be fun, but then I'd definitely have to plan and I don't have any faith in my mind's ability to come up with a believable twist, let alone multiple twists that I'd need to have a halfway entertaining mystery novel. Fantasy seems the easiest route, cause I can just make up whatever I want, but I tend to get paralyzed by the options presented to me and flounder. I may go with magical realism, cause that would also give me lee-way to sort of do whatever I want without totally switching genres, but then I think it'd quickly spill over into straight up fantasy, so I might as well start with that. I really liked my story idea last time and I'm still bitter it didn't work out the way I wanted it to. It was fun doing research for my novel in the MFA , but it sort of fell apart once he went to the fantasy world. Perhaps if I stuck with a fantasy story set in Boston, that would work. It could be like Buffy, except not. But I mean, that show was based in a town and didn't jump dimensions like retarded Angel did, and they had lots of fantasy stuff. I could have my guy be involved or get involved in some sort of group that fights evil. Or maybe he can be a vampire and I'll write a gay vampire fiction. I'm sure that's easy enough to do. A little blood here, some goth music there, some gay sex over here and a title like 'Seduction of Darkness' and I'd be all set.
What say you, readers of LB&S? Should I go this route, or something different? Should I attempt to tackle a novel surrounding the mysterious and pendulous bosoms of a stripper on the run? Maybe the stripper can be a supernatural detective and my novel can rip off CSI and add monsters? Maybe? No?
Also, I learned yesterday that NaNoWriMo teamed up with Blogger (in 2004) to do NaNoBlogMo, where you write your novel as a blog. I wonder if I should do that this year. I mean, that way maybe it could be like a choose your own adventure. People could read what I've written and comment on where they would like to see the novel go, which might spur some ideas from me and help keep me motivated throughout the month. Do any of you readers feel any interest in keeping up with my 50,000 word novel in a few months? I won't bother doing that as a blog if no one will read it, but it could be fun. Like a serial drama. With really bad writing. Yay? Nay?
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Rob Zombie should stick to not making movies
I'm sitting here once more, bored to tears of pain and frustration, willing the world to turn just a lil' bit faster (harder, better and stronger can wait). Alas, I cannot actually move things with my mind. This morning on the train, I thought how useful it would be to be able to mentally hold onto the handrail and how other people would react to seeing someone able to stand utterly motionless while the train attempted to derail itself, but then I realized that in my little daydream, my hair was long and red and I was a sexy woman named Jean. I woke up from that dream real quick, as John Travolta would say.
I'd be such a bad columnist for a newspaper. I never understood how Carrie Bradshaw always had a topic every week of that Sex and the City show. I guess having a team of writers do it for you must help a bit, but still. People do that shiz all the time. I just get bored and thus blog; I rarely have something meaningful to share with you, my loyal non-readers.
But having just heard a cop siren, I did think of one thing to tell you. Last night, I had the "pleasure" of watching the new Rob Zombie remake of Halloween. Now, I won't get into the details of why it shouldn't have been remade in the first place, but I did have a bit of a quibble with his atrocious dialogue. I mean, this man writes like an ADD 12-year old with the mouth of a really disgusting 30-year old. There are only so many times I can hear the words "slut" "whore" "cunt" "faggot" "bitch" "ass" and "cum" from the mouths of children before the totally unnecessary shock value wears off. I mean, ok, so Regan in The Exorcist said "your mother sucks cocks in hell" and "Let Jesus fuck me," but it was somewhat spread out and she sounded like a demon when she said it. All of this adds to a disturbing and shocking movie experience. Zombie's film has so much over-the-top profanity that it is completely and utterly meaningless. You don't feel like these people are disturbed for having said these things; you just think they have nothing to say but filth. Basically, they watched ntohing but Rob Zombie films growing up and this is the product. BORING! Also, Rob, your teenaged girl characters are so far from believable when they refer to cops as bacon and to cop cars as Baconmobiles. Guys call cops bacon; I've yet to meet a girl who does, certainly not a girl who looks like that.
Come to think of it, maybe he should remake the Exorcist! It'll be even MORE disturbing if the priest and Regan's mom sit down to talk about her and the dialogue goes something like this:
Father Karras: "Mrs. MacNeil, your daughter is fucking crazy like a drunken slut on PCP."
Chris MacNeil: "Fuck off, Father Fuckface. My fucking daughter needs your help, asswipe, so stop your fucking bitching over that whore of a mother you had and get to exorcizing, slut! Or can't your faggot ass even do that, you inept little bitch."
Father Karras: "Cunt."
--
I think it's comic gold.
I'd be such a bad columnist for a newspaper. I never understood how Carrie Bradshaw always had a topic every week of that Sex and the City show. I guess having a team of writers do it for you must help a bit, but still. People do that shiz all the time. I just get bored and thus blog; I rarely have something meaningful to share with you, my loyal non-readers.
But having just heard a cop siren, I did think of one thing to tell you. Last night, I had the "pleasure" of watching the new Rob Zombie remake of Halloween. Now, I won't get into the details of why it shouldn't have been remade in the first place, but I did have a bit of a quibble with his atrocious dialogue. I mean, this man writes like an ADD 12-year old with the mouth of a really disgusting 30-year old. There are only so many times I can hear the words "slut" "whore" "cunt" "faggot" "bitch" "ass" and "cum" from the mouths of children before the totally unnecessary shock value wears off. I mean, ok, so Regan in The Exorcist said "your mother sucks cocks in hell" and "Let Jesus fuck me," but it was somewhat spread out and she sounded like a demon when she said it. All of this adds to a disturbing and shocking movie experience. Zombie's film has so much over-the-top profanity that it is completely and utterly meaningless. You don't feel like these people are disturbed for having said these things; you just think they have nothing to say but filth. Basically, they watched ntohing but Rob Zombie films growing up and this is the product. BORING! Also, Rob, your teenaged girl characters are so far from believable when they refer to cops as bacon and to cop cars as Baconmobiles. Guys call cops bacon; I've yet to meet a girl who does, certainly not a girl who looks like that.
Come to think of it, maybe he should remake the Exorcist! It'll be even MORE disturbing if the priest and Regan's mom sit down to talk about her and the dialogue goes something like this:
Father Karras: "Mrs. MacNeil, your daughter is fucking crazy like a drunken slut on PCP."
Chris MacNeil: "Fuck off, Father Fuckface. My fucking daughter needs your help, asswipe, so stop your fucking bitching over that whore of a mother you had and get to exorcizing, slut! Or can't your faggot ass even do that, you inept little bitch."
Father Karras: "Cunt."
--
I think it's comic gold.
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