The Bitter Dregs

Images, Not Words

2012-01-24T14:03:00.003-05:00

Occasionally, I try to teach writers the value of closing scenes with images, rather than a line of dialog. This morning, as I was having my coffee, I came across this quote from someone who can speak more eloquently about the power of images than I ever can.

"And you who claim to demonstrate by words the shape of a man from every aspect of his membral attitudes, dismiss such an idea, because the more minutely you describe, the more you will confuse the mind of the reader and the more you will lead him away from a knowledge of the thing described. Therefore it is necessary both to illustrate and describe." -- Leonardo Da Vinci

This quote appeared in the opening of a chapter in a book called Field Notes on Science & Nature, edited by Michael R. Canfield.

Eyes On The Ball, People

2012-01-20T10:26:00.000-05:00

What passes for a new year's resolution for me is more like a general intention to do something. This year, it wasn't to lose weight, or to be a better person, or to clean the house, because I like selecting somewhat attainable goals so I can, you know, feel good about myself while ignoring those unattainable goals like losing wei-- well, you get the picture. This year, I want to keep up with reading the paper along with the news and magazine webs I cull from the internet. A modest goal.

So far, so good, but it's only been about two weeks, so I can't really pat myself on the back, yet. What I can do, though, is highlight the stuff I don't really give a shit about but that seems to dominate the news. Should you care? Maybe not, because it's just one guy's opinion, right? I don't expect us to agree on everything, but the point of this is that you should always be questioning the media you consume. Here's the current list:

Tim Tebow. Seriously? A mediocre athlete gets front page coverage in the New York Times because of his very public religious worship.
Republican debates. It's like watching monkeys fight over bananas. The only thing less interesting is the endless churning coverage on the TV news.
Penn State. Joe Paterno behaved poorly on a number of counts. People who need their jobs a lot more than he did lose them every day. Move on, alums. Rebuild your institution on a better model.
iPads in the classroom. This is going to revolutionize education? Sure it is.
Catholic School Closings. I feel sorry for the kids who are going to have to find a new school, but not for the institutions. If we spent this much effort on public schools, your neighbors would be freaking out.

That's the tip of the iceberg, by the way, but you should be asking: why is this anything more than a personal rant? Because these stories are a bit like stage magic: they're mis-direction which draws your attention away from the really important stuff. Like our economy. Like the clear evidence that Iraq is collapsing and that we have officially flushed the last 10 years of money, blood, and effort down the drain. Like our trade deficit with China. Like climate change. Like income disparity. See what I'm talking about?

Keep your eyes on the ball, before it nails you between the eyes.

Ho, no! It's the holidays.

2011-12-24T09:40:00.001-05:00

I made it almost the whole way through. Christmas was in sight and I'd managed to keep my spirits genial and bright throughout the season, no matter how much repetitive Christmas music I heard on the radio, no matter how disgruntled my family became, no matter how much extra work I was doing. I was surprisingly relaxed and of good cheer.

Then I went to The Whole Foods.

Just by itself, that isn't a bad thing. I've been shopping at my local store since it opened and I've been there around the holidays, so I pretty much know what to expect: a crowd of holier-than-thou entitled patrons short on patience and long on sharing their opinions. What I didn't expect was the employees at the bakery counter, and their attitude. They ignored me first, then walked away from me to complain amongst themselves about how my daughter had put her hand on the counter, then came back to the counter and treated me as if I were holding them up from more important things.

I've worked retail Christmases in the wine trade and the book trade and I never, ever, treated a customer the way those two men treated me. I know how bad it can be on the other side of the cash register but I also know that no matter what, you never lose your cool with a customer and the customer is always right. Every other store employee was courteous and helpful. Add to that the fact that the bakers' behavior was nonsensical: if they wanted us gone so badly, then ignoring us wasn't going to make that happen; my need for bread wasn't going to evaporate just because these guys were inconvenienced.

I tried to make sense of this experience on the way home through the cluster-bomb of holiday traffic. What, exactly, was their problem? Had I somehow done something to bring on this reaction? Was there a way to rationalize this all with the holiday season? Where exactly, does it fit, with the message of Christmas?

For me, the over-riding through-line of religion is: don't make someone else's life worse for having met you. So, these guys clearly weren't with my program. Rather, they were of the bitter retail school where they're too good to be doing their job, they're meant for better things, and the customer is always an inconvenience. As I drifted to the checkout line and out into the night, I wondered how out of touch that attitude is in a country with unemployment at the current rates.

The next day, I realized something, though. I had restrained myself at the store. I hadn't stomped off to demand to see the manager and demanded apologies or tried to somehow dump back on the bakery guys. Although they had shown me none of the holiday message, my Christmas spirit was actually intact.

Good luck keeping your balance through the season.

A Little Thanks

2011-11-23T10:43:00.001-05:00

In the few hours before it's officially Thanksgiving here in America, I'm trying to engage my personal attitude adjustment function. You know, that little mental switch you make to allow just a little decompression from work, family, politics, and every other stress factor I seem to carry in the tendons of my neck.

I'm usually only moderately successful at relaxing, so my mental switch is actually the size of that circuit breaker in Jurassic Park. I am making an effort, though, because no mater how trite it sounds, it's good to step back a little from your own life and count the blessings.

Don't get me wrong. Everyone has struggles, some more profound than others. I've got my share, but they'll still be there after the holiday, so I'm making the attempt to focus on the good stuff for the immediate days ahead. I'm as guilty as everyone else of taking some basic things for granted and perhaps I've got to be working harder on being thankful. I've got a family, a job, a place to live. The number of people I've helped in life is larger than the number of people I've harmed. I've got some really good friends.

While it's probably part of human nature to constantly strive for more of everything (probably a throwback to times when basic resources were scarce), it's worthwhile to take a look at just what we have. I have many things. I am blessed. I hope you can feel the same way.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Post Season

2011-10-11T08:24:00.000-04:00

Wait, wait, what? There's still post-season baseball going on? But the two best teams in baseball are done, so that doesn't make any sense. What do you mean there's port-season baseball?

What it means is that there were a couple of young, hungry teams, who played as if every single out were an elimination out, and they proved that a lot of heart can overcome staunch professionalism and experience. The Phillies (I'm not going to talk about the Yankees, because they are beneath contempt, and there's no shortage of New Yorkers to do their post-mortem) spent a season doggedly pursuing their only stated goal: the World Series. Despite injuries, a shallow bullpen, and odd managing choices, the Phillies did what they needed to do: win 2 out of 3 games, over the course of 162 games. They did it professionally, which is to say, like any good businessmen, they put on their suits, they clocked in, and did what they were supposed to. But... oh, but for that one big question...

Were their hearts in it?

It sure didn't seem that way for most of the season. When mid-season trade Hunter Pence is the only guy looking like he's having any fun, that should be a signal to the manager that something's wrong. The team has now morphed into a group of paycheck players who have been hired to win a world championship, and every move the "employees" make seems to have that unspoken job performance rating attached: if I don't win will I be playing for the Phillies next year? When you're worried more about what you stand to lose than what you stand to gain, you're never going to beat the teams that play like they have nothing to lose.

Worse yet, you're not going to have any fun.

It's tiring watching a group of overpaid guys play a game -- a sporting game, but a game nonetheless -- and have them wear their grim professionalism ALL THE TIME. Why? What's to be grumpy about? They are the few, the chosen ones for whom genetics and circumstances have allowed a perpetual childhood playing America's greatest game, and they're unhappy? If your heart's not in it, if every game isn't the World Series and a sandlot game combined in your head, then it's time to walk off the field.

As the Phillies endure the long, cold winter, and shuffle the chips around in search of the dynasty that almost was, they need to consider that fun is what it's really supposed to be about. The fans don't want to see emotionless robots on the field, we want to see a team. And when it costs over $100 for a family to go see a game, even in the cheap seats, you owe us not just a team that's playing the odds over the 162-game spread, but a team that plays as if every game is the last, with the joy and fierceness of champions.

It is, after all, baseball.

Irene 2011

2011-08-28T13:12:00.000-04:00

Irene from my front porch, during the storm, then the morning after.

Hunkering Down

2011-08-26T11:29:00.000-04:00

As hurricane Irene lumbers its way towards landfall on the US Eastern seaboard, it seems the news media has created its own perfect storm event. The media, in all their glory, likes nothing better than an impending disaster. At this point, they can indulge in all the "worst case scenario" hypothetical animations they want, with none of the actual damage having taken place. All the shrill fear-mongering, with none of the price of actual damage and bodies. These major storm events are a bonanza for the news/entertainment industry, because, if everything goes as they predict, they get to double-dip: they have material to report now, in the run-up, but they can also report on the disaster -- should it happen -- for a good long time.

All the screenwriters out there should also take note of the coverage, because one of the keys to making all thins non-stop storm coverage work is the ability to track the storm in real time and give you "landfall" estimates. That's what we call a ticking clock, and every media outlet makes use of them in this type of event, despite the notorious inaccuracy of meteorologic forecasting. That ticking clock gives you a built-in window, a race against time to get prepared for the storm. That creates tension and makes for good viewing.

I know this sounds cynical, but...

I caught a rumor on the net this morning that the township adjacent to mine is recommending residents re-locate during the storm. That seems more like panic to me than prudent storm preparedness. In our Philadelphia Western Suburbs, we're a good 40-50 miles from the coast, it's unlikely that the storm will be hurricane strength by the time it gets here, and it's 36 hours away (at least). This kind of hysteria is generated by a 24/7 media looking to fill the endless hours of broadcasting, and a public with unlimited access to information feeds that do little more than churn the same statistics for hours on end. As imminent as the threat is, there's been plenty of warning, and the storm is only moving at 14 MPH. We know it's coming and events aren't developing that quickly.

Now, pay attention here: I AM NOT advocating you don't evacuate when you're told to, nor am I saying you shouldn't take the storm threat seriously. You may, however, want to take the media a little less seriously.

The Business of China

2011-08-24T09:42:00.000-04:00

One of the prevalent dichotomies of our current society seems to be our hypocritical relationship with China and in the past few weeks, in the aftermath of the debt-limit debacle and credit rating crisis, someone should highlight the true weirdness of our relationship with the largest remaining communist country.

In the wake of the market upheaval, there were at least two major public rebukes from China about America's debt, one of which was directed to the Vice President. Let's ignore for a second how America's largest note-holder, China, rebuking us while holding almost a quarter of our foreign debt, is a bit like shooting the golden goose. You notice they didn't offer to forego debt service in our time of troubles, as a way to help us get through the crisis. Let's ignore for a second China's repellant human rights record. And while we're at it, let's just totally ignore the whole communist/totalitarian ideology.

That sounds like a whole lot of willful ignorance to me. Why do we do it? Because we import more from China than from any other country in the world. They buy very little from us; the trade balance is tipped so far in their favor it's ridiculous if you stop and think about it. What's really funny though, is that they're essentially loaning us money to buy products from them, then collecting interest on the loan, then publicly rebuking us for borrowing money. And we, as a country say, thank you, sir, may we have another?

Why? Because the stuff's cheap, and we don't care where it came from. We'll look the other way on all the issues I mentioned above, just so we can pad our dens with stuff we don't need.

This hydra-headed approach to life is not particularly new to Americans, though. The very same people who lionize the greatest generation and their efforts during WWII, never see it as ironic that they hustle on down to the Wal-Mart to buy lots of cheaply-made products from a totalitarian regime that undercuts American industry via its industrial practices. While at the Wal-Mart, they also lament the fact of the disappearance of "main street America", ignoring the fact that their shopping habit is what actually killed the main street.

What is most remarkable about China rebuking us, though, is that they would be economically up shit creek if we took a pause from our delight with their exports. In 2010, we imported approximately 365 Billion dollars worth of "stuff" from China. Hmm, that looks a lot like a billion dollars a day we buy from them. Imagine if you went five days without buying anything from China (granted, it would be hard to do), that's 5 billion dollars. People would notice that. Policies could change.

Maybe we wouldn't have to look the other way quite so much.

Rules of the Road - 2011 Edition

2011-07-13T10:24:00.000-04:00

I know I've had a few choice words about driving over the course of my blogging, so I'll do my best not to repeat myself, even though some of my road rules apparently need endless repetition because some of you obviously haven't been paying attention. Before you embark on the great American motorways in search of a cheap vacation, make sure you understand all the basic rules of the road.

Yellow lines divide lanes. This is America, you should be driving on the right side of the yellow line. Yellow dividing lines are not optional simply because you bought a gas-guzzling SUV the size of a zeppelin. If you can't follow the lines, you shouldn't be driving. As with coloring, you can say outside the lines is "creative" but it mostly results in a bloody mess.
Parking lots. They also come equipped with dividing lines. If you can't fit your car in, you might want to reconsider your lifestyle choices. Basically, if you can't park it, you shouldn't be driving it. Also, handicapped parking spots are marked for the handicapped, not for the chronically late. Your scheduling issues make you incompetent, not handicapped.
Light jumping. WAIT YOUR FUCKING TURN.
Self-delusion. Everyone thinks they can work their smart-phone and drive. No one can. Read the stats, tell your kids, and put down the phone. I'm guessing that text isn't really worth dying for, or killing someone else.
Courtesy. Being on the road today is like sitting in on a congressional budget debate, only with 1200 lb cudgels. If you've got rage issues, perhaps you should address them somewhere other than behind the wheel of your car and misdirected at the poor schlep who's also trying to get home on time.
Motorcyclists and bikers. Yep, you're right, you're entitled to the road, too, but that also means you have to obey the same rules as the rest of us. You know, lights, stop signs, yellow lines (see #1 above), and courtesy. You also might want to think back to basic physics class and lessons on mass in motion, before you let your road rage out on someone in a car. I saw a guy on a chopper spit on a car the other day. I gave the car driver big props for not simply backing over the moron.

Alternatively, you jump on some kind of public transit and avoid this crap altogether.

But of course, this is America, where we violently defend our right to gobble up every bit of fossil fuel to fill our oversized cars to lug our overweight kids to the Wal-mart and buy them some soda at the best discount around. I shouldn't complain, I suppose. At least Coke is still made in America.

Down Time

2011-07-04T20:58:00.000-04:00

Let's talk the pleasures of summer. In many ways, I have a fantasy life, because I still have many of my summers free. Just the word "summer" conjures up images of sweating glasses of icy drinks, the sound of the ocean, the smell of grills, the bleeping sparks of lightning bugs. You think of long, lazy afternoons; a melt of time stretching into the hazy, humid dusk. Days at the pool, nights at the drive in.

But... but.

If you're a bit compulsive, with a control freak twist, going from a jam-packed schedule to a suddenly open-ended vacuum presents it own particular challenges. Trying to do it with a couple of pre-teens who take delight in creating mayhem just makes the fun more... pungent. In other words, long, unstructured days can cut both ways. I'm trying to force myself to relax, to take time to read a few books, not stress about all the stuff I should be doing around the house. I tell myself that no matter how much the offspring try to push my buttons, there's going to come a time when they don't want anything to do with me, so I should try to let it flow off my back.

When all else fails, there's still a tall, sweaty glass of whatever I want to drink.

Action!

2011-06-05T14:14:00.003-04:00

Finally rolling film today on Customer Service, the short film I wrote. Check out the blog here:

http://tinyurl.com/4xg4tst

Shit That Annoys Me Today

2011-05-24T09:31:00.000-04:00

Those of you who have ever read this blog understand that that there is no shortage of things that tend to aggravate me. For the most part, in my daily life, I keep my mouth shut, because no one wants to listen to someone who bitches all the time, no matter how right they are. Occasionally, a perfect storm of crap comes together and I can't hold in my ire anymore, and it spills out into the blog. So, today's post. In no particular order, the junk I find irritating right now:

Saudi Arabia. Today's NYT reports that women aren't allowed to drive in the country. Of course, they also can't vote or work (without a man's permission). If you can seriously name one thing other than oil reserves that should command respect from this country, I'd like to hear it. I'm all for respecting another culture's beliefs and ideals, but it's ridiculous to treat this kind of institutionalized sexism as anything other than repellant.
Pending public education budget cuts in Pennsylvania and elsewhere in the nation. Let me get this straight. It's okay to cut programs from the poorest school districts so that we can continue tax breaks for industries? You're poisoning the future, you're wrong, and you should be ashamed if you support these policies. If you're too stupid to understand that, then you probably didn't go to a public school.
The Free Pass For Wall Street. The longer the economy languishes (and by every measure, it still is) the more it irks me that those responsible have suffered very little compared to the average citizens of the country. Their business-as-usual mentality, while the American taxpayer picks up the tab, is a national crime.
Celebrity Culture. Our nation's slavish worship of every glittering freak show is turning us into oatmeal-heads. We're spending so much of our time worrying about what these fools are doing that nobody is actually, well, doing anything. Write your own book, make your own movie, sing your own song.

Okay, that's it for today. It's still early so I may be back, I reserve that right. If you're pissed off about something, or at me, why not let me know?

Stumbling Around

2011-04-16T12:49:00.000-04:00

In my recent internet ramblings, my metaphorical hikes through the electronic woods, I came across some blogs with little nuggets of help for writers and artists. In lieu of any actual thinking of my own, I pass them along to you:

How To Steal Like An Artist serves up a refreshing insight on inspiration and creativity.

Best Blogs For Aspiring Writers is just a list, but a good starting point to poke around for what you need.

Lester Dent's Master Plot is the famous pulp wordsmith's breakdown of how to create a story.

Of course, the best advice -- the advice most frequently ignored -- is to keep writing, always.

Going Japanese

2011-04-05T12:23:00.000-04:00

Last week, as the family was winding down from a long day of our usual bickering, cajoling, and rollicking fun, while I was sitting with a glass of wine and a book, there came a sputtering-sizzling-thumping sound, a tremor passed through the house, followed rapidly by flickering lights, a WHUMP! and darkness. The quiet that only comes when you've lost power. From downstairs, my son yelled, "I smell something!" I grabbed a flashlight, and stepped into the basement, only to meet a hanging pall of smoke. Thankfully, no flames, but still... smoke can't be good.

Ushering everyone out into the unseasonably cold night, we huddled on the porch waiting for the fire department, which came out in force: 5 trucks from at least two companies. At one point, there were ten fully-geared firemen exploring my house in the dark, trying to figure out what had happened. They roamed from the attic to the basement. In the end, they discovered the main cable coming into the house had exploded in the foundation. The cable burned apart and the breaker tripped, cutting off the mains to the house. No imminent fire threat, but the electric company shut off service to the house.

The following morning, the house temps were in the low 50s. Not dangerous, but not comfortable, either. Everything stayed cool in the fridge, so we were okay on food, etc. The electrician came in the morning, and power (and internet) was back online before the afternoon. What's the point of the story, you may well ask. We were lucky in a lot of ways. Mainly that the house didn't burn down, but also that we really didn't lose anything, weren't in physical danger, and could get everything repaired in under 24 hours. That got me to thinking about Japan. For one night, I was inconvenienced and irritable, but that was the extent of it. I didn't like it one bit. My kids were scared, and in our society, a lack of electricity in your home is a very unnerving situation.

Many of those who survived in Japan are dealing with conditions I don't even want to imagine. Theirs is a life-altering hardship, and it is ongoing. Just because it isn't at the top of the news coverage any more doesn't mean the situation is over, or their needs have lessened, it just means the media can't make money off of it any more. Meanwhile, those affected by the quake and tsunami still struggle. Send a prayer their way, or donate something to the relief efforts. Below are just two of the many sites that will take monetary donations.

American Red Cross

United Methodist Committee on Relief

Storytelling Crystal Ball

2011-03-27T13:33:00.001-04:00

If you're interested in writing/filmmaking/video games or entertainment in general, you may have noticed some seismic shifts in the way stories are told and the way entertainment is offered to you (Angry Birds, anyone?). A couple of friends and I discussed the future of storytelling in the first of an ongoing series of podcasts that's just hit the internet. It's worth checking out, and following all those who are involved.

Future of Storytelling Podcast

Thanks to Paul Montgomery and the Fuzzytypewriter blog and to Dave Accampo for a very thought-provoking chat.

Spring Cleaning for the Screenwriter

2011-03-19T10:05:00.005-04:00

I've been blowing the dust off some mental stuff and wanted to share a few things with the writers out there, starting with this link:

Script Lab Scene Questionnaire

Writing, as they say, is rewriting, and I think this list is an interesting way to approach individual scenes. One of the main things to remember is: each scene must operate on multiple levels, moving character, plot, and story simultaneously.

Political Calculations

2011-02-01T12:29:00.002-05:00

So, I just got my own very personal e-mail from Michelle Obama announcing Charlotte North Carolina will be the host of the 2012 Democratic National Convention and I'm torn between laughing and crying.

Laughing, because it's so cynical a political move. NC and VA were the only southern states Obama carried in 2008. Setting the convention in the beachhead of the South seems pandering and an obvious ploy to curry favor with the rest of the South.

Crying, because the Democratic party can't stop trying to convert the South, which has shown nothing but resistance to every progressive move since reconstruction. The party does not need the entire South to secure the White House and it's high time we stop tailoring an agenda to make it easier to swallow for people who don't want to be part of the party anyway.

It will be an interesting convention, but I'd bet the true face of America will be in the protests outside the auditorium, not with the speeches from inside.

Dig This! Tuesday

2011-01-25T11:16:00.003-05:00

Time agin for one of my non-posts, which means I post something almost totally devoid of new content. So, here are a couple of things that got my attention from the web today.

A 2001 black space monolith action figure. I'm gonna buy one, strap it to my forehead, and hope to evolve.

You may have noticed in the sidebar to the blog that I have an interest in wine, beer, and booze in general. It intersects with a passing interest in science here--

Grapes ain't gettin' enough sex. This NYT article explains how genetics and cloning are resulting in inferior wines.

Finally, in the comic book department, as the nerd world rushes to weigh in on the folding of Wizard, here are some mildly inspired parodies of Batman Covers:

Batman v. Internet Memes.

Here ends the churning of other's ideas represented as work-on-my-part.

Shameless Promotions

2011-01-18T11:25:00.003-05:00

What's a blog for, after all, except indulging all your own narcissism?

First, let me give a little cyber-ink to the people running the Farce/Film blog and podcast. They give interesting and insightful written reviews of films -- all kinds, not just art-house stuff that never plays near you -- and have a rollicking, rambling, sometimes inebriated podcast that serves up dueling opinions of weekly releases amongst a rotating cast of semi-regular commentators.

In the interest of full disclosure, I admit they are all mostly former students of mine, but if you know me at all, you should realize that doesn't mean I'm cutting them any slack. What I'm saying is: these people are the real deal. As proof of that, when they invited me to sit in on a podcast episode, I agreed. The best students are the ones you want to keep working with, even after the formal Professorial relationship has ended and the Farce/Film group falls into that category. Of course, I claim some credit for them being the thoughtful critics they are, because that's what all good narcissists, er, Professors, do, right? Bring it always back to themselves?

Anyway, the actual shameless self-promotion is when I say -- go listen to the podcast with me in the guest chair. I talk about Green Hornet, Hot Tub Time Machine, Cameron Diaz in underwear, and NC-17 ratings. Beware, we cuss. A lot. We're all adults, even if I knew everyone else when they weren't.

If you listen to the cast, let any of us know what you think, even if you hate it (although don't hate the one I'm on). Follow any of those good people on Facebook or Twitter, and you won't regret it. Follow me on Twitter, and you might.

In The New Year

2011-01-03T19:40:00.002-05:00

Ah, that first day back to work after the holidays... the rude shock of being back to work and all the fun being over. No more sleeping in, no more pastries and coffee for late brunch, no more wine in the early afternoon. It's like Christmas shat you out and left you at the curb.

And that's all I have to say about the holidays.

Let's move on to 2011, shall we? I don't even want cast a fond glance over my shoulder at 2010, because, you know, it's over. Forget all the top ten lists, I want to start a clean page and move forward. So much of my life is spent looking back and over-analyzing things I can't change - should have zigged instead of zagged, etc. - that I'm just beaten down with the past. I don't want the baggage anymore, and this is fair notice. If I fucked you over unfairly in the past, I'm sorry, really I am and you can bet I've beat myself up about it, but I just don't care anymore. I want to shake all that off my shoulders and have a little fun. What do you say, 2011?

What does that really mean? It means I want to focus on the things that really matter to me: my wife and kids, my friends, friends I haven't met yet, cooking and wine, writing and reading. I gots to work to pay the man, but you know what? I'm not doing any freebies for the man anymore. I'll work when I'm supposed to, but the rest of the time is mine, so back off.

Ready, 2011? Let's get it on.

Holiday Cheer

2010-12-23T09:55:00.003-05:00

I will freely acknowledge that my sense of humor is a bit perverse. With that in mind, I offer some of the things that have amused me this holiday season (so far, anyway).

Any shopping trip where you only really need one thing and you're under no time pressure. It's like being the designated driver at an Eagles Game, you can just sit back and watch the circus. On Monday evening, I went to the Target to pick up Christmas cards and was amazed. The place looked like a trailer park after a twister convention. Not only was merchandise strewn everywhere, but the customers had hollow eyes and were pushing what looked like all their belongings in shopping carts.

Spider-Man, The Musical. The most surprising thing about this entertainment pinata is that it's news at all. It didn't even really sound like a good idea when it was first gestating, and now that it's struggling through labor pains it makes even less sense. The venn diagram containing Spider-man fans, Julie Taymor fans, and U2 fans doesn't really seem like enough to warrant $65m and numerous cast injuries, does it? And after those 47 people in that venn center see it, and everyone who works for Marvel sees it, who's gonna go? If you want seats in the action, I hear they cost over $250 bucks a pop. For that money, you could get every U2 cd ever recorded, as well as the iPod to play it on, or -- every Spider-man movie, plus the blu-ray player to play it on, or -- enough Spider-man comics to keep you reading for weeks on end.

Nouveau Drinking. I love how a whole new generation has decided it's now hip to drink, and especially hard liquor. It's as if bourbon was invented last year solely for their amusement. From those of us who have long been aware of the pleasure of spirits at the holidays, I can only say, "welcome to the party." Somehow, I always knew if I just kept drinking consistently, I'd eventually be in fashion again.

Cheers and happy holidays!

Political Hangover

2010-11-03T13:23:00.004-04:00

I've been doing a lot of thinking about the mid-term elections as I try to get the taste of the political hangover washed out of my mouth. It's been a brutal season, with campaign spending at an all-time high, and campaign messages at an all-time low, but I came to a couple of conclusions.

First, the bulk of the country doesn't really want to think about real issues. That's the only explanation I can find for voting for politicians who deliver messages so internally schizophrenic that they're barely coherent. Make no mistake: promised obstructionism is not a policy that moves anything forward.

Second, the American people should be outraged and shamed that they have willingly surrendered the political conversation not to any one party, but to the news media. The media, whether you think they're liberal or conservative, are interested in a story, not in issues. The more conflict in the story, the better the story. That is a different goal from the way the branches of government are supposed to work. "Checks and balances" does not imply shoving a spanner into anything just to keep it from moving forward; that's a conflict that brings a great story, but no progress. If you don't believe the media is shaping things, ask yourself why Christine O'Donnell got so much airtime. It's not because she had any real qualifications, nor because she had any chance of even coming close in the election, it was because she made a good story. Kind of like a freak show.

Third and finally, the Republicans and their Tea Party subset make a lot of noise about being "real people." They may want me to be a figment of their imagination, but I'd simply ask, what is it about me that's unreal? I have a nuclear family, my wife and I both work full-time jobs to make ends almost meet, we attend a church of our choice, and are active in our community. One of the great things about living in America is that I can disagree with you and still be entitled to the liberties that come with citizenship. You can't dismiss me because you wish I wasn't real, because this is America, and my vote counts and my voice has every right to be heard.

I could go on in this vein, but perhaps I should simply point out that with the switch of power in the House, now the Republicans get their chance to rework the country in a way that will meet the unrealistic expectations of a very impatient electorate. The ball's in your court. You wanted it, so here it is. The clock is ticking.

Season's End

2010-10-19T19:03:00.004-04:00

So, I pretty much stayed away from blogging about baseball all season. Now the season's over and I can't resist anymore. I saw a lot of games this summer and followed the Phillies into the post-season, trying to maintain my cool through the slumps and bumps of a very uneven year. Mostly, I think the Phils look like a team that's made it to October in spite of themselves.

The pattern for the summer was injuries, followed by batting slumps, followed by an uneven bullpen. The one thing you can take away from the regular summer schedule is this: three excellent starters can't carry the entire team. When all the bats are firing, the team can't be beat, and that reveals the potential for the team overall. Whenever the bats were lined up, though, the bullpen then seemed to be unable to deliver. It was a summer spent out of sync.

Now, after game three of the championship series, and a loss to the Giants, where the bats didn't show up, it looks like we're out of sync again. I've learned with the Phillies, and baseball in general, you have to take the long view. It's a seven-game series and anything could happen, but today's play didn't offer too many bright spots. When the top slots in the batting order can't deliver the hits needed, you can't win. Statistically, the Phillies had the best record in baseball, but apparently, that run to the end, where everything clicked, burned the team out and now the engine is stuttering.

What seems most distressing, though, is the team seems to be... grinding. They don't appear to have any joy in the games they're playing. They're tight and anxious, and it's sometimes downright painful to watch, like they're psyching themselves out of the running as millions watch.

When you see that level of frustration in high definition, you start to ask yourself why you're watching the pain. I've got enough stress in my life, without spending three hours watching a team that has the potential to dominate all comers stumble over their own anxieties. Yes, of course I'm reading too much into this. A shrink would say I'm projecting. But I, like most people in this economy, have a lot more to do than I did last season, so sitting to watch baseball is an indulgence. Lately, indulgences make me anxious, because I can't shake off the knowledge that I've got an ever-increasing list of responsibilities waiting when the game is over. I'm looking to trim anxieties out of my life and, unless things turn around, baseball might not survive the cut.

Random News Items

2010-09-09T11:08:00.002-04:00

A few things that have tickled my particular fancy over the past couple of days, in no particular order:

Rawson Thurber, director of Dodgeball, is slated to write and direct the big-screen version Magnum, P.I.

There's a 3-d Star Wars short making the rounds of the internet.

The New York Times armchair quarterbacking of the summer box office results.

iFanboy.com is one geektastic site.

Good Flicks

2010-08-27T10:44:00.002-04:00

I've made no secret to anyone who's asked that I think one of the best films I've seen this year is City Island. I'm a little late to the party, but the writer/director has been writing articles in Salon.com about the process. His final one, to coordinate with the DVD release, can be found here.

It's a breezy story about careers in Hollywood, the film, and the future. You should check out the article, and the film.

Space Bugs

2010-08-23T10:15:00.002-04:00

This may be the most interesting science news I've seen in a while. Apparently, there are microbes that create oxygen that can survive in space. Read the BBC article here.

Interestingly enough, no one seems to question the prudence of putting something in the vacuum of space for over a year, discovering it can survive, then brining it back to earth. Doesn't it occur to someone that those microbes might be pissed off?

How I spent My Summer Vacation

2010-08-12T13:46:00.005-04:00

The word "summer" conjures up so many images: tire swings over cool lakes, endless afternoons reading for pleasure, fireflies at dusk. What amazes me most is the long list of items I have planned in May that I think I'll accomplish over the course of the summer months.

The list, of course, is doomed to failure, simply because, for the most part, my kids are around all the time and given the chance, I'd rather spend time with them than scratch items off that summer list, especially when it contains such things as "clean the basement." Someday, my kids will be moving out and I'm pretty sure that crap in the basement will still be waiting. That rationale doesn't always help my stress levels, though, since I'm the kind of guy who, when he makes a list, expects to actually complete it. So, I have fun with my kids, but that damn list is going to be taunting me when they go back to school.

My summer list includes all kinds of unrealistic projects from domestic life and work life, most of which were patently ridiculous. There wasn't really much chance I was gonna get time to install new kitchen cabinets, was there? What was I thinking? For one thing, I wasn't thinking we were going to be living through the hottest summer on record. I don't mind sweat, as long as it comes with exercise or honest physical labor, but sweating as a matter of course just sucks. It saps my will to set one foot out of my air-conditioned bedroom.

So, how have I spent my summer? Hanging out with my kids at museums, movie theaters, book stores, coffee shops and other air-conditioned venues. We camped out in the back yard. We spent afternoons at the pool. There were swim team events and tennis lessons. Visits to grandparents and dinners with friends. Cocktails on the front porch, and lots of baseball on TV. We grilled, we ate take-out, we skipped meals and then snacked at inappropriate hours. There were fireworks and water-gun fights. Board games and summer reading projects. Chores and piano lessons. And yes, there were lazy hours spent reading, followed by fireflies at dusk. The tire swing over the lake will have to wait for next year.

5th Grade Redux

2010-06-16T11:58:00.003-04:00

From the super-secret list of things people don't tell you before you become a parent (and no, we won't share it with you, because misery does, in fact, love company):

#17 -- The Redux Principle. Having children guarantees that you will be forced to relive the worst moments of your own childhood.

Case in point: 5th grade. Not my favorite year of school when I was a kid. I had the experience of spending a year engaged in intellectual redundancy, with the distinct feeling that I was ready to move on. This, of course, made the time stretch out into some unholy event horizon of the black hole of public education. I felt like a freak because I had absorbed everything that elementary school had to teach. Yet I was emotionally attached to the comforting surroundings and the regular presence of people who were my own age, even if time has proven the term "friend" has a very fluid meaning.

Now, some decades later, I'm going through 5th grade for a second time with my own children, and suffering through all the conflicting emotions with them. Time has given me the perspective to articulate the problems I had back then (see the above paragraph) so I figured I had some parental insight. However, that ignores the guiding principle all children live by (which is available only to kids as their own super-secret list that you have to figure out through guesswork): parents are clearly imbeciles and any insight they have is the insight of a feeble-minded hamster which will routinely eat its own poop.

The end result: you are finally equipped to deal with 5th grade and the boredom, bullying, cliques, teachers, administrators, ceaseless activities, fear, exhilaration, and all the issues that seem so momentous to pre-teens, but the kids don't care in the least that you can help them. Which leaves you feeling just as powerless as doing it the first time around, except you have to watch the people you love the most suffer through everything, when your fiercest wish is to spare them that suffering. You have to be patient (not my long suit) and watch them figure it out themselves.

Parenting is not for the faint of heart.

Dirty Little Secrets, Part 1

2010-04-28T10:03:00.006-04:00

I've been thinking a lot about writing lately, which sounds kind of obvious, since I'm both a writer and a professor of screenwriting. I've found that one of the things that happens as you develop professionally and artistically, is that you assimilate all the steps in the creative process and these individual steps become part of your subconscious which manifest only in the act of writing. So, you tend to see only the end result, with the process being mostly handled by a subroutine somewhere low down in the brain programming.

The key to teaching and understanding writing is dragging all those particular steps back out of the brain-basement and shining a light on them, so you can look on them as part of a system that others can then replicate and assimilate. Most writing instruction, from the time we enter school in kinder-garten (or before) until the time we graduate at any level, is focused on defining these steps in the process: learning the alphabet, learning to spell, sentence structure, topic sentences, etc.

I'm not going to concern myself with any of that.

Writing instruction that focuses on developing the process also leaves certain items -- vitally important to writers -- untaught and sometimes even unmentioned. The purpose of this series, and there will be five parts in all, is to air all the Dirty Little Secrets that writing classes don't always tell you. If you've heard some of these topics before, then you had a first-class mentor. If this is all brand-new to you, then let me be your guide.

Part 1: We're Not Holding Our Breath

The sad, naked truth of it is, no one cares whether you become a writer or not. Okay, maybe your parents, but other than that, not so much. In Hollywood, both the industry in general and other writers in particular, would prefer if you just fucked right off. The industry, because they're scared you might actually come up with something interesting that proves they're the emperors without clothes, the screenwriters because no one is looking for more competition.

There's no shortage of writers, or written material. The internet is inundated with would-be writers and their ramblings. Blogs like this one, for instance. Go to your local bookstore and see just how many books are published every week. The WGA is inundated with script registrations for material so awful it has less than zero chance of ever getting turned into a movie. In none of those places do you see a place-holder with your name on it.

It's "easy" to write when you're in high school or college, because you have some benign person looking over your metaphoric shoulder and gently forcing you to meet deadlines. When you hit the real world, the truth hits you: we can all go on with our lives very comfortably if you never write another word in your life. The challenge then becomes whether you can force yourself to write in the absence of external pressures. As a writing professor, I can teach you how to write, but, no matter how much I seek to inspire you, I can't give you the will to write.

The first step to becoming a professional writer is, in fact, writing. Initially, you're writing for your own pleasure only, not for money, fame, or the adulation of readers or filmgoers. If you can allow yourself to not write, maybe you should consider another career path. Writers work at it, always. We're compelled at some fundamental level to put thoughts on paper, regardless of anyone asking our opinion on anything.

Professional writers also write regularly.

The myth of the "inspired" writer, that one who only sets ink to paper when the muse strikes, is someone who may be fun to have a drink with, but this is not an actual writer. This is the dilettante who gives writers a bad name. They also fall into the category of "binge writer." You know those stories? The guy who wrote the script in a weekend. The thing they don't ever tell you is the script sucked. Binge writing is like binge drinking: it may be fun, but you're usually left with a pile of puke.

So, if you want to write, you need to do it regularly, and, since no one's fate hangs on your latest masterpiece, you need to make yourself do it. If you don't have the will, you'll never finish anything. That, of course, means you'll never actually be a writer (and probably weren't one in the first place).

More Cautionary Advice for Writers

2010-04-25T12:41:00.004-04:00

As if there weren't enough impediments to writing an intelligent script, now we're supposed to consider upping the dimensions at the earliest stages.

Thanks to Colin George of Farce/Film for sending me this link.

More Hollywood Insight

2010-04-22T10:04:00.003-04:00

Want to write features? It helps to know what people are looking for. Thanks to Peter Kim for posting this on his blog.

What Hollywood Readers Are Looking For

Taking a Poke

2010-04-12T10:41:00.002-04:00

Hey, if you can't laugh at yourself, you've already lost the battle. So, to all those people who scoff at my Twitter usage, I freely direct you to this bit of humor from the New Yorker. And yes, I laughed at myself for the preposterousness. Of course, that didn't stop me from tweeting the link.

Geoff Sarkin is Using Twitter!

And... I'm Back

2010-04-10T10:57:00.004-04:00

Yeah, I know you missed me.

For the next couple of posts, I'm going to be talking about writing stuff, so if that isn't where you're interests lie, then you can go elsewhere for a bit. I probably won't be able to stay away from politics for long, so eventually I'll start bitching again. Check back.

I've got some fairly serious things I'm going to lay on you about writing, but for now, all I'm going to say is: if you have any serious intention of writing for films or television, you need to be aware of this article from last week's New York Times:

Branding Comes Early in Filmmaking Process

March Roars In

2010-03-05T10:02:00.004-05:00

March at my house didn't come in like lion or lamb, but like a consumptive old geezer. We've slowly been passing bronchitis around the house and February was basically like a tubercular ward. Fever, mucus, coughing, and my birthday. Great things that go great together.

The net results of being that sick for that long were, in no particular order:

Seeing many more hours of olympic coverage than is healthy for anyone. Adding to NBC's constant re-churning of highlights, I think I saw every medal win by an American at least six times. Given the weather, the judging, the ceremonies, and Bob Costas' hair, this may have been one of the worst Olympics ever. Sorry, Canada.
Watching terrible movies on TV for lack of energy to press the remote buttons. Why is any network showing a double-feature of Volcano and Dante's Peak? Do they think two awful movies can somehow add up to some form of watchable entertainment?
Fearing all the work that is piling up. With a 103 degree fever, you really can't concentrate on anything much (hence my olympics binge), so all the work I should have been doing just collected in one big electronic pile. Now that I'm back on my feet, I'm buried under senseless crap I've got to take care of.
Tunnel vision. Your focus narrows down to only the things that absolutely MUST be done. Everything else just drops by the side of the road. So, sorry for all the e-mails and invitations I haven't returned.

Although I'm on my feet again, and the olympics are over, now my kids are sick, which is actually worse than being sick yourself, because there's no way you can take the bullet for them. So, I've got a couple more weeks in the sick zone. Hopefully, when we're done, spring will be here.

Coming soon: a blog post that isn't bitchy or whiny.

On A Roll

2010-02-06T12:16:00.003-05:00

Saturday morning. Two feet of snow outside (and counting) and three cups of coffee inside my system. I'm not gonna complain about the snow, because generally, I think it's a lot of fun. Of course, I haven't started shoveling, yet, so there will be plenty of time for sailor-level swearing as the day wears on. Generally, I try to avoid complaining, because no one wants to hear it, really. You've got your own problems, right? Some times, though...

I believe things even out over time. Some days are good, some are bad; occasionally, there are windfalls balanced out by tragedy. The law of averages comes into play at some point and, if you live long enough, you're going to see plenty of both sides of the coin. Overall, it's a neutral thing, life. Some times, though...

Complaining doesn't fix anything, either; it's just the adult form of whining. There are people whose main form of discourse is the complaint, and they annoy the living shit out of me. It presupposes two things on the part of the complainer: that their problems are somehow worthy of complaint, and that you have none of your own, because for most of the complainers, it's a distinctly one-way circuit of communication. They interpret my lack of complaint as some magical happenstance where I never have a bad day. In reality, I just know how to shut the fuck up and not spread misery to someone who might be having a worse day than me. Some times, though...

Someone is always having a worse day than you. That's pretty much a guaranteed fact. However, you've got to remember that even though someone's having a lot of trouble, it doesn't make the minor crap that's screwing up your life any easier to deal with. I don't want to feel guilty about having a shitty day because there's been a natural disaster somewhere. I'm very thankful for everything I've got, but some times...

As you may have guessed, I've had a week. Nothing particularly major, just a sequence of minor events that went from being merely annoying, passed through oppressive, and eventually turned comical in its mundane grandeur. It started with being called for Jury Duty exactly one year after my last service -- the statutory minimum; various work and scheduling snafus; a car that died, forcing my wife to rent a car to drive herself to the hospital to get a z-pac for her bronchitis; a tow-truck fiasco; and it all ended with a speeding ticket for me in a rental car on the way home Friday night. So, I'm not complaining about the snow. I'm on a roll.

Let's Recap, Shall We?

2010-01-22T11:21:00.001-05:00

My, my, what a week it's been, eh? How to keep track of all the fast and furious developments, you ask? Well, you've come to the right place for that special bitter touch. I've loaded up on coffee and the morning papers and have assembled your cheat sheet for the weekend cocktail parties, so you can look like someone who really cares about current events. If it works, and you get some real chat going, remember you found it right here at the bottom of the cup, where all the bitter dregs congeal.

Cheat Sheet Of The Week - Current Events Version

1. The Haitian Earthquakes. (Yes, Quakes, because even their aftershocks are stronger than most seismic events.) You can find real news about this everywhere. In fact, it's about the only story you can find on TV. Americans donate in record amounts to a country most can't point to on a map. Appear on the cutting edge by mentioning "Smile Boy," the latest survivor to be pulled from the rubble. The photo has become an instant sensation. If you want bonus points, tell your friends everything you know about the history of Haiti. I'm guessing it won't take long.

2. Dems Lose Senate Seat In Assachussets. First, a little perspective: this is NOT a referendum on Health Care. It's NOT a condemnation of Obama. It's NOT the end of civilization. The Democrats still control the Senate and hopefully, this will encourage them to exercise it. However, the symbolism can't be ignored: in a state that's consistently waved the Democratic colors, it appears like spitting on Ted Kennedy's grave to elect a Republican to the Federal Legislature. Extra credit discussion points if you can throw in the name any of the other legislators from MA, all of whom are Democratic. Will that one Republican senator curb healthcare reform? Keep your eye on the ball, people: the REPUBLICANS, as a party, are 100% united against any health bill. They want the insurance companies to profit at the expense of your friends and family members who are denied coverage. When they block you from the hospital, don't blame Obama, blame the rich old white guy, who's probably in the pocket of--

3. The Banks. The Market. Again. So, yesterday, the market "sank" according to the WSJ, on news that the government would dare to propose legislation reigning in banks and risky investment habits. Show your perspective on the markets by pointing out that a year ago, the Dow was below 8,000. So, a couple hundred points yesterday doesn't negate the gains the market has made from the pit of depression. Earn extra street cred in the discussion if you point out that if you can't take the short losses, you shouldn't be in the fucking market to begin with. The only people hurt by bank regulation are people who have more money than the general population. They screwed the economy once. You really want to give 'em a chance to do it again?

4. The Supreme Court Again Gets Into Politics. In the courageous tradition of the court that gave you President W, Corporations are now allowed to campaign for candidates without restrictions. What could possibly go wrong? Earn laughs and the girl of your dreams by coming up with witty campaign slogans: "Pepsi and Palin: This Is It tour, 2012" "The Merck/McCain Healthcare Bill".

5. The Unemployment Ranks Swell. Yes, Conan O'Brien is officially on the dole. Only he gets paid $45 Million. How much was your last unemployment check for? Yep, that's right, you actively contribute to the ruin of a once-great TV show, you publicly bad-mouth your bosses, you have the worst hair in the history of TV, and you get a BONUS. Hell, you could have done that. Bonus conversation points if you can explain why NBC honcho Jeff Zucker had CO arrested in college. Triple bonus points if you can find someone who actually gives a shit.

Annnnnnnd, there you have it, your weekend conversation cheat sheet, dregs-style! Use this knowledge only for good, or to crush your enemies, see them flee before you, and hear the lamentations of their women. (Quadruple bonus points if you identify that reference.)

Seriously?

2010-01-19T10:25:00.000-05:00

So, I'm in a hotel room in a deserted east coast beach town in the middle of January, playing scrabble with my kids, while my wife's got the Golden Globes telecast on the TV. Foolishly, I had forgotten to load up on booze from home, so I was stone cold sober during the whole process, ergo my take on the old GGs was perhaps a little too unforgiving, but still, this was the worst telecast since the year after 9/11, when they just held a press conference.

It was a uniquely awkward, unpleasant experience where even the attendees didn't seem to be having much fun, and most of them weren't sober. Here, in bullet list form for those with short attention spans, are my top five things wrong with the Globes this year:

A painfully unfunny Ricky Gervais. Catwoman jokes? Way to keep up, Rick-o.
Mariah Carey's continuing love affair with her own boobs.
James Cameron's discussion of his "need to pee" during both acceptance speeches. They're called "Depends", dude.
Sandra Bullock's joke about someone "buying" the award for her. If you know anything about the Globes, you'll know this wasn't a joke. (I think this was Sandy, but if it was someone else, please correct me.)
-Tie- James Cameron's Na'vi speech, which enabled you to clearly imagine him speaking klingon at a Trek convention. -Or- James Cameron ordering the audience to give themselves a round of applause. Considering Avatar will end up making more money than, oh I don't know, the annual income of the entire nation of Haiti, that seemed in particularly bad taste.

I could go on, but it's self-evident, if you were watching. Which brings up the larger question, why were we watching? If I wanted to see a bunch of rich people at a self-congratulatory party, C-span is on all the time. Of course, the really frightening thing about that comparison is most people know more about the folks on the Globes than those on C-span, but the people on the globes don't really affect most of our lives directly.

Now, don't imagine I'm on a high horse, because I was watching the telecast, too. If I hadn't been, maybe my 10 year-old son wouldn't have beaten me in Scrabble. Evidence! Entertainment shows do rot the brain.

Ten Ten, Baby!

2010-01-13T16:53:00.000-05:00

We're a nation of lists. It doesn't mean anything to us unless it shows up on a list, somewhere. We delight when our preferences are confirmed by someone's "Top Ten" and jeer when something shows up on a "Worst Of". I want you to ask yourself: are you really that afraid of or incapable of coming up with your own unadulterated opinion about something?

But, it's a brand new year, and I'll try and get into the spirit of things (in addition to my usual list in the sidebar). Without further ado, or more clever explanation, my top ten list of top ten lists:

Discuss, debate, comment. But be clever and do it in the form of a list. Happy New Year!

Happy Holidays?

2009-12-16T09:16:00.000-05:00

So, one more post for the year. In the flurry of lights, shopping, booze, and religions that takes place at this particular part of the year, I'm trying to take a deep breath and remain calm at the center of the swirl.

Fair warning: I am sometimes accused of being a humbug, so if you come from happy Hallmark land where everything is cheery and bright, you're just reading the wrong damn blog, and that should have been obvious to you about six months ago and if you're still here you're either a masochist or a slow learner.

So, the holidays. How do you celebrate? It seems like most of the people I know, Jews and Christians alike, whip themselves into a consumerist frenzy, blowing ridiculous amounts of cash on gifts that symbolize a monetary ideal in a "can you believe I bought you this?" kind of way, not demonstrating a kind and generous spirit. People at shopping malls and Targets nationwide, in their zeal for grabbing bargains (that they still can't really afford), will thoughtlessly push strangers out of their way, ignoring their fellow man in service of the consumerist beast.

At the risk of blowing my image (such as it is) and coming off like a sincere person I have to say: the holidays is always a time when I seek quiet reflection and the company of friends. It's a major effort to get either. Why is that? Because we let ourselves get caught up in the holiday storm of all the obligations society tells us we need to fulfill: holiday parties, holiday dinners, holiday movies, holiday music, holiday shopping, etc.

Despite what I look like on the outside, or the date on my driver's license, I've still got a raging teen inside me, with all the anti-social tendencies that go along with that. When people tell me I have to do something, I take it as a personal challenge to prove them wrong. So when magazines, cards, tv commercials, and radio announcements all tell me I MUST be happy and buy something, my first reaction is to scream "Fuck you! And your little credit cards, too!"

I also don't subscribe to the "Pretend you're feeling happy to fit into society" method of getting through the holidays. The fact is that this time of year is difficult for me: work deadlines are crushing, school obligations with my kids are non-stop, other family pressures reach an all-time high. I'd like to kick back with a glass of wine and listen to the Messiah, I mean really listen, not just scan through to the hallelujah chorus, but there's very few moments for reflection and relaxation. That makes me a tad grumpy. If I see you at a party, I won't deliberately try to bum you out, but if you ask, I'll give you an honest answer.

Don't misunderstand. I like giving and receiving gifts (especially receiving), but that shouldn't be the center of anyone's world. At the end of the day, it's how you treat people all year long, not the guilt-ridden gift you lay on them in December, that is the foundation of a relationship. I'd rather have a little bit of your time than all your money. And if I give you some of my time, be aware that it's the most precious thing I have to offer.

I'm off now, for the holidays. I'm looking for a little peace and quiet and a bit of spiritual renewal. Celebrate the holidays in any way you see fit, but do it for your own reasons, not because some company is telling you to do it. Ho ho ho.

On Being Compelled

2009-11-18T09:59:00.000-05:00

I swore to myself - as opposed to swearing at everyone else, which is what I usually do - that I was going to maintain at least one blog post per week through the end of the year as a run-up to a major re-design of the blog and my web presence in general, which I plan to launch in the new year. Some weeks, though, it's a little hard to focus. It was a week where everything got swept away.

Now, I could take the common route with blogging, which is to form all my general complaints into some king of entertaining narrative, but complaining seems a bit pointless. It's not like you care, right? You might get a good laugh out of my misery, or maybe just toss me a knowing nod because you've been there, too, but whining is a little too self-indulgent for me. Besides, no one would believe most of my gripes because they sound like a bad stand-up routine. I mean, who would buy that both my toaster and stove broke in the same week? That's like a weird conspiracy against heating elements.

I could do my standard political riff, but politics this past week has mostly been about Sarah Palin and I really think I need more of a challenge than that. Although, I did see a "Sarah 2012" bumper sticker this morning, which actually made me seriously consider the Mayan Prophecies for the first time.

I haven't talked about writing in a while, but considering the amount of student work I'm slogging through, now is probably not the best time to discuss that particular subject. The weird thing about teaching writing is that not only are you bombarded with difficult and troublesome material, the process takes so much time and energy that it salts the earth of your own work. After reading student scripts all day, one of the last things I want to do is sit down and work on my own stuff.

Oh, wait, I've found a point to make today after all, because this is the key difference between professionals and amateurs: we pros are compelled to do it. Even after the long day of mediocre grammar, I still make myself do some real writing. Even with no real plan in mind, I sit down to blog because that's what I committed to. It's not always inspiration and latte, sometimes it's brain sweat and angst. Welcome to my world.

Lessons From The Strike

2009-11-09T10:33:00.000-05:00

No, no, I'm not going back on my promise to leave the baseball blogging until spring training, nor am I going to wax on wax off about the writer's strike of a few years ago. I'm talking about the transit worker's strike in Philadelphia over the past week. Now that it appears to be over, there's a few items that have crystallized for me and I'm passing those little diamonds along to you to save you the trouble of thinking really hard.

First, the political lessons:

Organized labor may, at one time, have been essential to moving forward as a country, but that time has passed.
Asking for unreasonable demands in an economy like the one we have right now is no way to gain public sympathy and support.
Union leaders really need to be made aware of the fact that they, like politicians, represent a constituency. They need to look out for them, not their own consolidated power.
At the end of the day, $50K for driving a bus is a hell of a lot of money.
If you choose to strike, you need to be prepared to absorb the wrath of the people's lives you have damaged in the process. Don't expect everyone to cheer for you because you strong-armed someone into giving you more than the bulk of America is getting this year.

Next, Road Rules addendums:

If you don't drive normally during rush hour, you're probably doing it wrong.
Yes, we know you're inconvenienced, but you don't get to break the law because of it.
Don't make lanes where there are none. The yellow lines mean something.
DON'T BLOCK THE BOX! If you don't know what this means, turn around and drive home immediately.
Patience, Courtesy. You will get there. The earth will continue to turn.

And finally, the IQ rules:

If you don't take the trouble to really understand how these issues work, please keep your mouth shut. On the other hand, don't get pissed at someone else for pointing out your ignorance. Yes, this is for all of you who think any mass transit agency has money to spare.
Don't take your anger out on the wrong people. The union instigated the strike. The people who are still working did not. They deserve a thanks for the work they're doing.
Employers shouldn't use the strike as an excuse to fire people who are genuinely impacted by this strike. On the other hand, workers shouldn't use the inconvenience of the strike as an excuse for a vacation.
For those of you who think mass transit is a big waste of time and money, you may now return to the rocks from under which you have crawled.

Hit the Showers

2009-11-02T10:53:00.000-05:00

As the baseball season winds to a close, with the indomitable Yankees taking the Phillies to school, I have come to a new conclusion: no matter how much talent you have on your team, no matter the efforts select members put forth, it is possible, even at the highest professional level, for one guy to screw the pooch.

Growing up, there's much talk of the benefits of being on a team, and learning to work together, and all kinds of other sports metaphors for life which really don't mean a thing if you're the kid getting the shit beat out of you in the showers. There's a lot of people who say it's all a team effort, that it's not about individuals, and the people who say that are just full of crap.

In baseball, you're playing for a team, but the reality is you're only as strong as your weakest link. Here comes the surprise: I'm not really complaining about Brad Lidge, the once-bullet-proof closer. I'm talking about Charlie Manuel, the manager. You see, Lidge should never have been on the mound in the first place. Everyone in Philadelphia knows it, the Yanks discovered it, and you can bet that every single Phillie knew it before Lidge's toe ever hit the rubber.

How demoralizing must it be to the other players to see Lidge warming up? Because no matter how strongly you've come back to tie the game, you have less than even chances that Lidge will be able to hold the game tie, especially to bats as ferocious as the Yankees. Think about this: at your job, if you clearly screw up more than half the time, how long would your boss keep you around?

We're not in your neighborhood baseball league, where everyone gets to participate despite their skill level or lack thereof. We're in the World Series. No one cares about Lidge's self-esteem. It's nothing personal. He can't do the job, he shouldn't be on the mound. Why can't Manuel see that? Why won't somebody tell him?

I'm gonna watch tonight, because no one does what Cliff Lee does. It'll be a treat. I've had enough tricks for one season.

Details, Details

2009-10-26T17:45:00.000-04:00

They say God is in the details. I posit then that Satan is in the administrative details.

With all the bullshit going on about the healthcare reform bills, all of congress seems to be jockeying for a position to keep their own asses in office, with a minimum of shit sticking to them. Today's announcement by Harry Reid in the NYT sums up the attitude. He's willing to sponsor a public option so long as states have the ability to opt out of it. Wow, I hope he didn't actually have to take a stand on something to get that announcement out. Basically, this is "wink, wink" public option, where the feds could enact it, but all 50 states could balk, which means there's still no help for those walking around uninsured.

While this may be a politically savvy move, because it allows Reid to pass the blame buck, it got me to wondering: when did Democrats become such terrible pussies? Who has the courage to take the national stage and say what's right and stick by it? Healthcare for all is the right thing to do, no matter the cost. We're Americans and we used to be able to solve problems, not be frozen by inactivity on the mere threat of potential costs. We're smart, and financially crafty. Why not force the bastards who came up with all the derivative securities that put the economy in the toilet to come up with a solution to how to get the money?

That's kind of a joke, but the real point is: let's not get so overburdened by the potential problems that we are forced away from every possible solution. We can find a way to pay for this. More importantly, we have a moral imperative to make real changes. Lawmakers are failing their constituents, the populace at large, and historical generations of Americans who dreamed of a better life, by not moving this legislation forward in a meaningful way.

Polls show a majority of the population favors a public option. There should be no impediment to passing one. As always, this is a free country, so if you don't like government getting involved in this stuff or for some reason have a fear of helping out your fellow countrymen, the freedoms that this country grants you include a freedom to express your opinion. Also a freedom to leave any time you want. If you think there's a better deal somewhere else, no one is stopping you, and most places you're likely to go will have better healthcare. Doesn't that piss anyone else off?

Monday - Shotgun Rules

2009-10-12T09:48:00.000-04:00

So, it's Monday morning. I've got a mountain of work I'm trying to climb. Only one cup of coffee aboard the system so far, no coherent thoughts in my brain - and isn't that just a great reason to keep reading? - but I want to not disappoint all the readers out there. All, like, three of you who tune in regularly. So rather than have something organized and coherent, I'm taking the shotgun approach, hoping that if I fire enough little nuggets, one or more will stick in you.

Glenn Beck is a moron. He's an hysterical little girl, with a shaky grasp of both politics and history, who hopes that if he's shrill enough you won't realize how asinine his ideas are. The irony is that his listeners/viewers apparently don't recognize his tactics as those favored by the very shadowy political movements he wants you to fear. Hitler could shout with the best of them, just like you, Glenn.
Nancy Grace seems to come from the same journalistic school. If you're loud, you must be right. Her confrontation with John Gosselin did something I didn't think was possible: made me feel bad for him.
The Phillies played baseball in 20-degree weather last night. This to me is a clear sign that places where winter falls this early should not have baseball teams, and that THE SEASON GOES ON TOO DAMN LONG! In the 1970 World Series, with the Oriels of my boyhood dreams, there were two games played by this time in the calendar, and we aren't even out of the playoffs, yet.
I have to admit, the Yankees played a couple of great games. I still hate them.
Although I can appreciate the historical symmetry of a Dodgers/Yankees series, that's only marginally more interesting than a LA/LA series. Go Phils!
Cub Scouts has come a long way since I was a kid. Camping in a fort, with an outdoor movie and indoor plumbing really isn't "roughing it."
It's frighteningly easy to get yourself piled with work, just by being a nice person and having a genuine desire to help people out. So I've heard.
Many parents don't understand the concept of movie ratings. Apparently, they think: "Yeah, R. That means it's something the family watches together." On a psychotherapy note: if you take your little kid to see Zombieland, you can't complain at them for not being able to get to sleep, or if they start gnawing on your fleshy parts.
Nobel Peace Prize. I'm just sayin'.
And finally, dinner with famous comics guys is a lot of fun. Listening to Mike Mignola and John Arcudi go at it and getting a glimpse inside the Hellboy universe... good times.

So, there, in no particular order was my week. Go ahead, pick out the pellets.

Talking Smack

2009-10-05T08:48:00.000-04:00

So, once again, I was shooting off my mouth about something. Contrary to normal circumstances, though, I wasn't talking about movies, politics, or baseball. I was holding forth on, of all things, Peppermint Patties, and telling boring stories about buying them warm by the bag from the factory, when the conversation took a slight detour into nutritional value and I calmly asserted something to the effect of, "sure, anything with a fat content contains protein," concerning the chocolate covering on the minty patties.

This was at a fundraising dinner at my church, so everyone else at the table was basically too polite to call me on this. There were at least two doctors present who cocked their heads and started to express some doubts on my assertion, but I obnoxiously over-talked them -- hey, I've learned something from the Republicans -- and changed the topic. It got me to thinking, though, that I might just be full of shit on the topic of proteins. It stuck with me all weekend, so this morning, I tried to find a definitive answer.

The first stop was my own pantry. Pop out ye olde bottle of Olive Oil. Check the helpful label. 14 grams of fat per serving, zero protein. Well, that didn't take long. Confirmation that those doctors weren't forgetting their basic biology, they were just being polite to me. Damn it. Perhaps, I comforted myself, I just had gotten things backwards: maybe anything with a protein content contains fat?

I hit the internet to do a little research. Egad. Wikipedia on protein goes on and on about essential amino acids. I finally found a somewhat useful nutritional page on protein. But still no definitive answer on the protein/fat correlation, if there is one. I know enough smart people, that someone reading this blog should be able to provide a quick breakdown, with some possible web references, so I'm asking for some help here. Go ahead, prove me wrong. Post your findings as a comment, please, or send them directly to me and I'll claim the work was my own and publish it in a blog post.

So, do I feel bad about talking smack? Sure, a little. It's embarrassing to realize something you thought to be true actually had no basis in fact. I feel worse about behaving like a boor and dismissing anyone else's opinions on the matter. So, to those of you at dinner. I'm sorry. I can't say I'll never do it again, but thanks for calling me on it, because that's what you should do when people aren't making sense. I took it to heart, did a little research, found out I was wrong. Now, I'm seeking a more informed answer. That's something the Republicans could learn from me.

Good Old Civil Disobedience

2009-09-28T11:09:00.001-04:00

If you read the Pennsyltucky entry from a few days ago, you might be interested in this follow-up, which talks about a march protesting the Pennsylvania arts tax.

I've got mixed feelings on this, partly because it's Monday morning and my brain isn't awake, partly because the idea of an organized resistance of artists sounds like a really nerdy stand-up routine. "And a battalion of sculptors staged a carve-in today..."

Artists are, by definition, not the most organized of individuals, and usually not the most combative, so for them to actually band together in any type of organized civil disobedience speaks volumes about how troublesome this issue is. Unfortunately, in our society, artists tend to not be taken seriously when matters of state are being resolved, so it's still unclear what the outcome will be.

For now, Pennsylvania continues its march toward being the most backwards state in the union.

A Note to MLB

2009-09-22T20:16:00.000-04:00

So, I'm blogging live from my couch where, with beer and pretzels, I'm watching the second game of a double-header between the Phillies and the Marlins. Now, I won't comment on the Phillies' ongoing game of musical chairs in the bullpen, but I have to take note of the pathetic attendance at "Land Shark" stadium. It looks like a high school baseball game where only the parents and girlfriends make up the audience. That's pathetic.

The Phillies are the current world champions and the Marlins are in the running for a playoff spot. All they can drum up is a paying attendance of a couple dozen? Okay, let's think about this. It could be the ticket prices, because anything on the lower deck will cost north of $50. It could be that Florida just isn't a baseball state. I mean, there's no early bird special, because tv sports don't run during the week at 4:30. It could also be that Major League Baseball has bitten off more than it can chew. What do I mean? Simple: there's too many damn teams.

It's not longer special to see a big league game, because there's a stadium in almost every city, and your team is always on TV. So, many games are played in almost empty stadiums to crowds watching only in their living rooms. I'm not such an old fart that I'm gonna start complaining about the good old days of baseball, but I will say that maybe it's time of the leagues to contract. Fewer teams would mean higher quality players, and will make a trip to the park a true special event, possibly worth the ridiculous ticket prices. Meantime, stop showing games from empty stadiums. If you people don't care enough to see your home team live, why should I watch your pathetic town's excuse for a ball club?

Pennsyltucky

2009-09-22T10:38:00.000-04:00

Generally, I've argued against this derogatory moniker for our commonwealth. I live in the Philadelphia portion of Pennsylvania, so we're largely urban, partially cosmopolitan, steeped in history, and rich in diverse culture. The only people to generally call us backwards are New Yorkers, and they feel that way about everyone who isn't a New Yorker, so you don't take that one personally.

I have officially revised my opinion, however, in light of this week's budget dealings out of the state capitol. This backwards state is now, in an attempt to balance the budget, going to levy a tax on arts-related events and institutions. You can read today's coverage from the local papers by clicking here. When this kind of move gets legislative traction, I have the feeling we may be insulting Kentucky, rather than Pennsylvania, by blending the names.

In whatever world it makes sense to tax the arts, which are chronically underfunded, I can't help feeling the cultural end of days is near. It's like taxing mass transit to offer automobile rebates. The irony is, of course, that this tax will mostly penalize Philadelphia and Pittsburgh which are rich in artistic and cultural institutions, and not so much the rest of the state where they guzzle gas and eat squirrel pie, hunted by theirselves with them semi-auto guns we nazi liberals cain't take away.

I suppose I shouldn't make fun of them like that because it's cultural elitism, but... maybe someone should drag them -- not necessarily into the new millennium -- but at least up to the enlightenment. Because you know what? Philly and Pittsburgh count for the largest portion of the state tax revenue. Without the income we provide, there is no state budget. At. All. So having state legislators from backwards counties taxing culture would be like us taxing, hell I don't know... squirrels?

Leno a-go-go

2009-09-15T12:20:00.000-04:00

Did I miss something? I must have, because from where I was sitting, The Jay Leno Show looked and played exactly like the Tonight Show, just at 10, instead of 11:30. This is what Leno took 3 months off to come up with? Yeah, he got a new set, but he didn't get a new set of anything else. It's the same old white guy brand of humor with musical guests selected to connect with the kids. Overall, the show was not only boring, but uncomfortable. Jay clearly doesn't do well in the "two chairs" interview format and even Jerry Seinfeld's Schtick couldn't make it less painful to watch.

Presumably, it comes down to whether you like Leno. He's never been a particularly daring, or insightful comedian and as he ages, his humor has become noticeably rigid. You need a rim-shot after every punch-line. As a performer, he's about as supple as an I-beam. He can't roll with punches in his set or in his interviews. It's like watching Don Rickles' stand-up routine circa 1957. That might have been okay 40 years ago, but on prime time?

Leno's been doing the "headlines" bit since even I was a kid and of all the things to carry over, it seems the least likely to translate to today's audience. Newspapers are dying faster than his jokes, but he still wants you to send him headlines? That's the definition of "behind the curve".

The "interview" with Kanye West -- an accidental coup since the rappers were booked well in advance of Kanye's MTV VMA performance -- was ridiculous, serving only West's own narcissistic desire for more airtime, when what would have been fair would have been to bump him altogether and give the platform to Taylor Swift.

I'm well aware of the economics involved in making the show, and how low the threshold is for Leno to be considered a success in prime time. Hell, he's even cheaper than a reality show to produce. But if this is all he's got up his sleeve, we'll all be bored to death by sweeps.

In Memorium

2009-09-11T10:11:00.000-04:00

As we, nationally, have a day to reflect on the events of 9/11, I wanted to point out something that seems to be getting lost in the shuffle: this wasn't a day that only affected New Yorkers. The impact was not only felt by those directly connected to the towers or the Pentagon. The lives lost are worthy of remembrance, but we must also acknowledge the toll that was taken on the country as a whole.

I clearly remember the panic in my mother's voice when she called me. I was a father at home with two young children and didn't have the TV on. After my mother called me, and I saw the images, my first thought was to get my wife out of downtown Philadelphia, because no one knew where the next plane was going to hit. No one knew what was happening, no one knew what was safe. The fear and anxiety of that day still lies close to the surface of many Americans, not just those in Manhattan.

We all lost something that day, as a country.

What A Bas-turd!

2009-09-11T09:18:00.000-04:00

I was asked to defend my listing of Inglourious Basterds as one of the crappiest movies of summer (see Useless List side-bar), so off we go. So you understand where I'm coming from and don't think this is purile Quentin bashing, you need to understand a few things about my personal film philosophy. Film is primarily a visual medium, one that immerses an audience in a story they experience in a very visceral way. It's a manufactured reality wherein, if it's manufactured correctly, you are unaware you're experiencing something manufactured. In other words, you get lost in the experience of the story. Thus, anything that takes you out of that experience is a flaw.

How can you tell when you've been taken out of that experience? When you find yourself wondering things like, "I wonder how hard it was for Brad Pitt to keep his jaw jutted and talk like he had a can of beans up his ass?" At that point, you're one step away form making mental grocery lists and the film has lost you.

The causes of this wandering of attention are legion in this film, and across Tarantino's films in general. The main flaw for me is the incessant, pointless dialog. Many people who love his films, love this inane chatter, but dialog is the purview of the theater, where, because of physical limitations, life must be lived out loud. When this much dialog is jammed into a film it feels fake and stagey. And when it comes right down to it, when the characters are prattling on, they aren't that interesting. If they're not interesting, I don't care about them; if I don't care about them, I'm wondering about Brad's jaw again.

I could discuss the disturbing identification with the Nazis or the palpable hatred of women that runs throughout the film, but I don't want to sound like a politically correct turd, so I'll pass over that.

Let's just move on to the real reason this film was at the top of my crap list for the summer: it was boring. QT ratchets up the tension to the breaking point in individual segments, then just lets the moment pass on by, like you're watching an old friend depart. Long after you've stopped caring, THEN the big bang will come along, more often than not in a flurry of incomprehensible action. That's most noticeable in the underground bar scene, for which the ending was telegraphed a good 20 minutes (felt like 2 hours) before you get to it.

In the end, this film isn't about Nazis or Jews or WWII or even Brad's jutter, it's about films. That's infuriating. There are references from Once Upon a Time in the West to Cinderella, with the Marx brothers and Dirty Dozen thrown in for good measure. It's like the film was assembled by the ultimate idiot savant fanboy with turrets. It's a kind of filmmaking that draws attention to itself at every turn, pulling you out of the story. You always suspect QT is lurking behind you, winking, "did you fucking see that, pretty fucking cool, huh," with every celluloid reference to better, more original films.

Tarantino continues unabated his post-modern scrapbooks masquerading as original films, and based on box-office, he's going to make more, so I'm going to stick out my jaw and look for a can of beans. Maybe it'll make the next film more interesting.

Bookstores Suck

2009-09-09T13:10:00.000-04:00

I never thought I'd write those words, but Borders really blows. Today is the drop date for what many critics are calling the last significant release of a CD for the entire format: the Beatles Remasters. If you've avoided the hype or aren't that into the Beatles, fine, but honestly, I was ready to plunk down a big chunk of cash to listen to those discs today. Since I didn't pre-order online, I figured I'd drop by a store and actually buy one retail.

Who would have imagined that any store selling mass media would not have a copy of the box set? Not just one store either; both the stores in my area were sold out. I don't live in the middle of nowhere, some place where they still rail against that newfangled rock-n-roll. I live in the Philly area and we tend to take music seriously, so you would think that the stores would have actually stocked a new release someone was likely to buy. Except they didn't, or at least didn't have enough. I humbly ask: what the fuck?

Now that Borders has put almost every independent bookstore out of business and then essentially become the wal-mart of people who read, Borders can't even properly handle their supply of product. I realize I'm talking about music and not books, but they can't handle the book business, either. If you shop in a Borders regularly, it can't have escaped your notice how many linear feet of books have disappeared from your store lately. As their quarterly earnings tumble, Borders continues to scale back on inventory, rapidly turning into a big fat version of an airport kiosk. I've got nothing against bestsellers, but I find the whole turnabout ironic: Borders put all the independents out of business because their big-box bookstore could carry a deeper selection of books. Now, unless you want to purchase 30 or so copies of Twilight, you're probably going to be shit out of luck with books, as well as I was with cds.

I tried: two different stores and an hour out of my day traveling around just to support a bookstore. I was willing to pay a little more for it to support the retail establishment. Times are tough, right? I'm also the kind of guy who buys something from them on principle, even if I don't need it, because I love going into stores and looking at books and I don't want them to disappear. Now, I've revised that notion. Under this business model, they deserve to go down the toilet. You won't find anything in their doors that hasn't already been pre-sold to you, and you can get that cheaper elsewhere.

So, I went home and ordered my box set from Amazon. It took about a minute, will be delivered to my door cheaper, and I didn't have to use any "member coupons." Borders hasn't really been Borders for a bunch of years and when the shadow finally fades, I don't think I'll miss it after all. I've got a library right across the street.

Bang for the Buck

2009-09-07T09:54:00.000-04:00

Today, the New York Times reports that America is the world leader in arms sales. I suppose it's good to be the tops at something, since in the past few weeks every statistic that's come to light has proven our health care to be inadequate by world standards. We sure can sell hard machinery to kill people, just not fix the political machinery that prevents saving them.

$37 Billion dollars is the magic number for US arms sales, accounting for almost 70% of sales, worldwide. World. Wide.

There's an obvious irony here. Where are the huge public debates about the ethics of selling arms? Billions of dollars made on selling weapons to kill people in emerging nations doesn't really send the right international message, does it? Should we replace the stars on our flag with bullets?

Fixing healthcare should be a no-brainer. Helping people, especially those less fortunate, to meet basic human needs, is never a bad thing. Yet that message has gotten lost in the scuffle of verbal assaults. We're losing a battle of American Identity and we're morphing into a petty nation that focuses and touts our differences rather than celebrating our common humanity.

Jaws!

2009-09-05T09:34:00.000-04:00

From today's news, life imitates art as a great white prowls Cape Cod, looking for seals, or other blubber-coated mammals.

End of An Era

2009-08-29T11:29:00.000-04:00

It's a rainy Saturday and I'm watching the funeral of Ted Kennedy, and, as with all funerals, I'm trying to figure out what it all means, in both the big and little sense. In the little sense, it means personal pain for a family that's had its share and more of personal pain. Grieving widows and children, lost promise, and a history of siblings gone too young. Yet, he was a Kennedy, so the meaning transcends the personal, family impact.

I'll pass over the big meanings of life: religion, the afterlife, etc. There are others far more equipped to talk about that. Like the phalanx of priests presiding over the event today.

I'm thinking about the big meanings of life on earth. How you spend your time. Where you choose to fight your battles. Yes, of course Teddy had his flaws and I'm sure Coulter and Limbaugh have been pointing that out lately. Now that he's gone, though, have you noticed how Teddy's flaws have been eclipsed by the history of his actions and leadership? It's impossible for newspapers to adequately summarize his accomplishments, and even those summaries are overwhelming. Almost universally, those accomplishments benefitted those at the bottom of our society. Kennedy used his time and powers in service of making life better for those who often cannot fight for themselves.

Constantly living in the public shadow of his martyred brothers, what has become clear in Teddy's passing is that, in the end, he probably had more influence that either of his siblings on the way Americans live their lives.

It's interesting that the Kennedys are often referred to as American "royalty" and easy to see why: the tightness of the clan, the money, the public scrutiny. The comparison is often meant as a denigration, because in America we don't have kings and queens. Yet it's important to remember what separates Teddy from all that: a lifetime of service. He could just as easily have walked away from Washington; after the death of his brothers, no one would have blamed the Kennedys if they walked away from public life altogether. Teddy and his family represents what can be best in America, that belief that there is a possibility to do good -- not just for those of your own social class but for all Americans -- and fighting to do good despite considerable obstacles. If kings behaved this way, we probably wouldn't have thrown off England's yoke to begin with.

The other big thing I'm contemplating is who will fill a considerable vacuum. Where are the new liberals who come with unlimited wealth and power who are engaging in service for the sake of service? Perhaps that era has passed, perhaps it's for the best that politics not be dominated by single families. Perhaps. Kennedy's life would suggest otherwise. Whatever you think about this, I hope you'll agree that the man's life was inspiring. Maybe you'll be inspired by it and choose a life of service.

Doctor, Heal Thyself

2009-08-12T13:19:00.000-04:00

Let's talk healthcare, shall we? And by talk, I don't mean hysterical shouting.

I know I blogged about this before, but it bears repeating for the halfwits out there - and there are so desperately many of you, aren't there? - being louder doesn't make you right or make your opinion more valid. All it really does is make you shrill and embarrassing, and lessens the weight of your own arguments, especially when you're shouting things like "socialism" and "death squads"! I saw some daft old fart standing in the blazing sunshine with a sandwich board bearing multi-colored lettering that said something to the effect of "euthanize the Obama health care plan, not our senior citizens."

Now, I'll push aside any wish-fulfillment jokes about golden-agers and euthanasia for the moment, and get to the real point: if you're so fucking stupid you believe this health plan calls for Sarah's Squads then you're dumber than the guy holding the sign. More than that, your fear-mongering screaming makes you un-American. That's right, all you right-wing fuck-nuts, you're anti-American. The country I live in shouldn't let people suffer for lack of access to some of the most advanced medical technology in the world. It's inhumane to allow a large swath of our populace go uninsured while you run around like hysterical weasels shouting things like "Nazi" and "Un-constitutional".

So, if you have a legitimate point of argument, come to the table and discuss it like an adult. If nothing else, the past few weeks have proven that your government is listening. But just because they listen doesn't mean you automatically get your way. Stop behaving like toddlers and help be part of the solution rather than just a wrench in the works. Believe me, they want to hear an alternative that is workable and makes sense. The current healthcare system does - not - work. You must acknowledge that. All the invective gums up the works, and nothing moves forward. That, too, makes you un-American. Bringing the country to a halt out of spite is petty and vindictive, and doesn't help anyone get the coverage they need.

Stop listening to the convenient, simplistic lies, and take on the responsibility of figuring out how you could possibly help your representatives fix the problems that face us. We're moving on, whether you like it or not. You can bury your head in the sand, but we might just cover the rest of you up as we pass you by.

Rules of the Road

2009-08-04T10:45:00.000-04:00

Writing about politics has been giving me fits, so I'm going back to the semi-humorous ranting that puts the twinkle in my eye.

Today's topic: courtesy on today's over-crowded streets. It's only by our general compliance that chaos doesn't rule our roads, but I've noticed a breakdown in our communal adherence to the letter of the law of late. Maybe it's the summer heat, maybe it's the economic malaise infusing our every waking hour, maybe it's just that as Americans we feel a level of entitlement that puts us above the vehicular law. Whatever the cause, I think a few easy-to follow rules could help us all out.

Rules For Drivers:

Crawling up my ass will not get you to your destination faster. Back off.
Your horn is not the "Easy Button."
Your phone call is not more important than the 1200 lb projectile you're piloting.
Driving a BMW doesn't exempt you from the law. Similarly...
Homies in Escalades are still supposed to obey the traffic rules.
Using your turn signal prevents me from using my easy button.

I recognize this isn't a one-way street however, and that drivers aren't the only ones with responsibilities where our roads are concerned. So here are some helpful...

Rules for Pedestrians:

Texting while stepping out into traffic - against the light - will not stop a moving car.
Crosswalks technically put you in the right, but also will not stop a moving vehicle.
Putting your hand up does not stop a moving car.
Jaywalking means you're too lazy to walk to the corner where there's a light to help you cross. We're fat enough already. Take the extra steps.
The fastest way across the street is a straight line, not an ambling diagonal one.
Just because you look away from a car doesn't mean it won't run you over.

Now, let's all use the road responsibly and have fun out there.

Back To Business

2009-07-14T09:25:00.000-04:00

Man, sometimes I hate to be right, especially about the depressing stuff.

The past week in politics has done nothing but prove President Obama's campaign rhetoric - so eloquent and inspiring - played well with the voters, but not within the Washington circles who actually run the government. Republicans sharpen the knives for Sotomayor's confirmation hearings, while Democrats braid the noose for Dick Cheyney. Have things really changed that much under the new administration?

Perhaps the President intends to remain above the fray, like he tried to do while Iran melted down. The danger is that, like Iran, he'll be forced to weigh in later, making it look like he's behind the curve and not on top of the issues. If he continues with this trend, his public image could be irreparably harmed, by making him appear hopelessly out of touch and belatedly reactionary, or even worse, irrelevant to the discussion.

This, to me, all sounds like politics as usual. Wasn't that what we were getting away from?

Meanwhile, the economy continues to gasp its last breath, with over 300,000 workers displaced from the auto industry alone. There are simply no signs of recovery on the horizon. Shouldn't this take precedence over a public baiting of a nominee even the republicans admit will be confirmed, or revenge against a former Vice President? (The greatest revenge against that turd is consigning him to political irrelevance and having him live long enough to see all his hateful and hurtful damage undone.)

Maybe I'm missing the point, but shouldn't government be working on the economy, the two wars, and the healthcare issue 24/7, rather than the tired political jockeying? When will the country actually move forward? There was a lot of momentum after the campaign, but where has it all gone?

Screenwriting Lessons From Baseball

2009-07-08T09:43:00.000-04:00

If you're expecting a discourse on Bull Durham or Pride of the Yankees, you're going to be disappointed, here. We're going to start today's lesson from the trenches with a dissection of what's wrong with pro baseball. I'm pretty sure this applies to most pro sports, but I don't give a flying fuck about them, so you're stuck with baseball as the metaphor of the day.

Some of my fondest memories from being a kid were of the evenings when we'd pile into the car and drive down to Baltimore to catch a mid-week Oriels game; we'd leave when my mom got home from work, drive the hour to the stadium, buy a couple of tickets, watch batting practice, try to cage autographs, eat hot dogs, then watch the game, drive the hour home drowsy in mid-summer torpor, and be in bed by 11. My family didn't have a whole lot of money, but we didn't have to skip any meals to afford a couple of games a month. If you look at it in today's terms, I could never do this with my kids. Seats comparable to those we used to get are now $60 in Philadelphia. You can easily spend $100 on food and not be sated. What the fuck happened to baseball?

I can understand that ticket prices go up. I don't think prices rise in proportion to any real market influence, but let's just leave money out of it for now. The real baseball crime is that it now takes four hours to play a game, and mostly what you watch is a pitching duel. You're lucky if you see five hits in a game. I gotta tell you, this is boring as shit. Watching managers shuffle pitchers to match individual batters is frustrating and annoying for the fans. It's sucking every last bit of fun out of the game. Therein lies my point.

When it comes to writing scripts, you need to keep the fun. By that, I don't mean you have to be writing comedy, but that you have to keep the enjoyment of what you're doing in the front of your mind. Most of you aren't get paid to write, so you better be having fun on some level, and it better show in your scripts.

When people gripe about Hollywood movies - and this summer's crop has been especially bad - they're griping about the pitchers' duel: films so neutered of any kind of creative enjoyment in favor of some committee-created entertainment processed to be marketed to some particular demographic that they've sucked the fun out of going to the movies. Your first draft script is about the only thing in the process you can actually call your own, so enjoy it, let a reader sense that, and swing for the fences.

The Man In The Mirror

2009-07-01T09:50:00.000-04:00

Ha, fooled you! It's not a post about Michael. That's been covered enough, don't you think? No, I'm writing about us, the people we see reflected every day, because I really want to know what the hell is wrong with society. The endless celebrity worship is getting a bit scary.

I know it's always been here - movie rags have been printed almost as long as movies themselves - but it seems to be rising into a fugue of idiocy. Jackson - okay, I admit, this post is partly about him - has been nothing but a tabloid punchline for years, but now we're declaring a day of world mourning, dominating all media in way he could only have dreamed of while he was still sucking wind.

There's a disconnect somewhere. It used to be, celeb worship was based on the public persona (it used to be more tightly managed by stars and studios, to avoid career meltdowns like Tom Cruise on Oprah) of stars, who appeared rich, glamorous, usually happy, and always, always, passionate. In other words, we worshiped the idea that these stars had licked all the problems mere mortals struggled with: bills, depression, romantic longing. But now, look at who we're fixating on: Jackson has been the center ring of a circus of freaks for the bulk of his life. Is this really the guy we idolize and aspire to? Add to this the endless parade of pro athletes with mug shots, political figures with well-greased zippers, and movie stars who have no off-camera life, and I wonder who were supposed to strive to be. Actually, I wonder who kids are aspiring to be these days.

Am I cynical and old? I suppose, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong, either. Get a grip on yourselves, people. You decide who you want to be, not based on celebrities, because you know what, they're as fucked up as we are... except with more money... and cameramen.

Pay no Attention

2009-06-20T15:36:00.000-04:00

You remember the Wizard of Oz, right? Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. I'm feeling like world events are operating on something like that level of prestidigitation for the past couple of days.

Only in this case, North Korea is the man behind the curtain. The curtain, of course, is Iran. I don't want to minimize the election events in Iran, but it's sucking up every available bit of news coverage. Meanwhile, there's a North Korean ship loaded with missiles cruising around and being shadowed by an American warship, all on the heels of threats from North Korea to launch missiles in the direction of Hawaii.

This is the point where we all need to keep our eyes on the ball. While Iran's election outcome will undoubtedly have far-reaching world-wide effects, it is not immediate in the same way the North Korean threat is. I think this is genuinely dangerous to our national security and wish the news agencies would be giving it the same time they're devoting to Iran.

Everyone seems to be caught up in the swirl of events with Iran, and the romance of news being "tweeted" out in secrecy. Everyone also seems to be expecting a quick resolution and regime change. That leads me directly to memories of watching tanks roll into Tiananmen Square and the outrage the world felt. Surely, if twitter had existed, everyone would have masked their avatars in some color for solidarity, but here we are, two decades later, and how much has changed in China? Did your outrage stop you from supporting the communist state? I'm betting there are five products within your easy reach which were manufactured there, so be careful how you answer.

What will happen in Iran? We'll see, but I know it won't be decided by people sitting at computers. Iranians are fighting in the streets with sticks and stones, literally. They don't care about your twitter color.

Rain on my Brain

2009-06-20T15:06:00.000-04:00

It's been nearly two weeks since we've had a day without sustained rainfall on Philadelphia and it's left me feeling murky in more ways than one. All the gray is depressing, the inability to work in my yard is depressing, and the damp smell permeating everything is depressing. I totally dig that I could go out in the rain and garden, it might even be easier to weed that way, with the ground all moist, but I garden for fun, and being damp and cold doesn't spell fun in my dictionary. Endless indoor activities leave me feeling restless and bitchy. I never thought I'd get enough of watching movies and reading comics, but enough is enough.

If I were a more positive up-speaker, I'd say, "let's make lemonade." Let's get all that house-cleaning done, let's do those indoor maintenance projects, let's file all those old financials. But the rain puts me in a negative mood, which you probably got from the first paragraph, so none of that is gonna happen.

I could do some real work. I have a script that's ready to be rewritten, a couple things to research and plan for a new script, or I could digitize some documentary footage that ain't gonna edit itself, but it's raining and I just want to stay inside. But if I do that, I'll probably want to watch baseball and the Phillies do nothing but lose these days, so that won't help my attitude.

You see my problem? It's what I call a blue funk. It doesn't require medical intervention or a leather couch and sympathetic ear or prescriptions, it just begs for drawn shades, whiskey, and Chet Baker on the stereo.

Rules Of Kids

2009-06-17T21:10:00.000-04:00

So, some things I know for sure about kids. These are like laws of physics, but infinitely more rigid, and equally painful.

In a closed car, children will scream. Loud.
If there's a mess to be made, your child will find it.
With infinite responses at their disposal, "no" is always the first word out of any kid's mouth.
When you say "evil" and "sly", your kids hear "cool" and "awesome."
Given the choice, a kid will eat a piece of candy the size of their own head.

There's more, of course, but I just got back from a car trip with my kids, which is the equivalent of passing through a black hole and coming out on the other side of the universe. I'm a bit frazzled and short-tempered. There's a rule for that, too.

School's In Session

2009-05-19T09:13:00.000-04:00

The gates have officially opened and the summer movie season has begun once again, in all its CGI glory. Reams of print and gigs of storage will be devoted to the joint reverence and griping these films will inspire from professional and amateur critics, as well as bloggers with no real business writing about films.

What's going to rule the box office? What will be the designated indie darling that all the "adults" will go see? What will be the biggest disappointment?

You'll have to wait until September for the answers to those questions, and I'm not going to even attempt making a guess. What I am going to do is take all the would-be writers out there back to school for session of "What can you learn from Hollywood?" It's quite fashionable (especially in film schools) to thrust your nose in the air and piss on everything that Hollywood does, claiming it's the end of cinema. If you have that attitude, good luck to you, but stop reading right now. All I'll say in this column is: ignore Hollywood at your peril.

So, if you're a writer, your lesson this week is based on Star Trek, the reboot of the entertainment franchise that's been running since the late 60s. The film has been doing well at the BO, which you can read about if you want, and we all know that box office alone is not a judge of quality; well, at least all of us who saw Wolverine. The interesting thing is that this film seems to transcend the fanbase, and is crossing over to the movie-going public at large, something Watchmen failed to do.

How does Star Trek do it? Certainly, the special effects are up to Hollywood standards for sci-fi movies, the score is rousing and energetic, the performances are competent; in other words, all the elements are there, but frankly, that's not enough. Yes, writers, the reason for the success of the film is, in fact, the writing. There are plenty who will disagree with me, but oddly enough, they've all been bitter writers, and there's nothing more bitter than a writer who sees something better than his or her own work.

In a nutshell, Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman found a solution to the curse of any franchise film, which is how do you actually tell a new and engaging story, while not violating any of the previously established canon in the franchise? They concocted a way to both acknowledge the 40+ years of Trek entertainment, and free themselves from it at the same time. Their time-travel solution was doubly-elegant because time-travel plots are a staple of the Trek universe. What is truly admirable, from a writing standpoint, is that they use one of the most basic concepts of film - the reverse - and apply it to our story expectations. Time Travel, as a concept in most sci-film films, and especially Trek, is usually about going back to correct something that sets their current timeline back to "normal". In the film, they reverse that concept, and abandon the future "normal" which contains the 40+ years of things we know (and that the fanboys would continuously hold the filmmakers to) in favor of the new past. That the writers executed this with a grace and elan rarely seen in a Hollywood blockbuster gives them enormous amounts of credit to expend on the next inevitable film.

Take the lesson for the day and apply it to your own writing. Make it smart and clever, no matter what the subject, and you'll have a better film.

Welcome to the Party

2009-05-01T11:46:00.000-04:00

So, fellow dems, do you weep with joy at the conversion of Brother Specter? Or, like me, do you think it smells too much like a deathbed confession? I always thought the Catholics were way off on that; rape and pillage your entire life, then repent at the last minute and you get the keys to paradise? Bite me.

So, Brother Specter, seeing his imminent political demise on the horizon, jumps ship and says his heart's been in the right place all the time. Even if I were willing to give him a pass on the "magic bullet", and I'm not, his heart was only in the right place about 30% of the time, since he voted with his -- former -- party 70% of the time. Still, I suppose it's nice to have him, now that all the hard work was done without him. Glad you finally saw the light, Brother.

There's a lot of people experiencing radical conversions in their lives: CEOs suddenly forced to live on a working-man's salary, for instance. Owners of fuel-sucking McMansions and SUVs. Everyone's talking about a new American ethic: living smaller, basing your life on a different set of priorities. Well, I'm happy for their awakening. I just wish they hadn't flushed the country down the hopper to see the light.

Because, you see, there are some of us that have been at this particular party for a long time: those of us who have struggled to live within our means and still be responsible community and world citizens, forced the whole time to watch you spend yourselves silly chasing something so empty and hollow it took a national crisis for you to realize it.

So, yeah, welcome to the party, but don't act like you invented it.

And Brother Specter: you're not a democratic solution, no matter what anyone tells you. You're old Washington and you're part of the problem. You haven't had a real job for forty years, I suggest you go try and get one in this economy and learn what it really means to be moderate.

Back In The Saddle

2009-04-29T21:15:00.000-04:00

I haven't been paying attention to my blog - or others - recently, but that's not what I'm kvetching about this evening. There's a script over in the corner that's been in need of a rewrite for about two months now, and is going to have to wait a little longer. My house is gradually caving in around me as I write and I'm doing nothing to brace against chaos. I, like some of you, have a precarious relationship to the things I should be doing. I could devote an entire series of posts to procrastination, but I can't seem to get started.

Every now and then, though, I get off my ass and do something. It's been a long time since I've been behind a camera, but last weekend I started a new documentary project.

It just so happens that it was an outdoor shoot and this past weekend seemed to mark the opening of hell's gates in Philadelphia, with April temps soaring into the 90s. Apparently, I am so stooopid as to go out in the blazing sun in the heat of the day and lug camera equipment around... without sunscreen. That wouldn't have been much of a problem when I was in my early 20s and had a god-like head of hair, but now? It was like I dipped my head into a barrel of pickled beets.

Aside from that charming image and the sore muscles (it's a lot of physical work to do this stuff on your own), I had a ball. Incidentally, or maybe accidentally, I got some great footage as well. I don't know how the doc itself will end up, since it's a summer-long project, but what I do know is this: if there's something you love, and feel passionate about, that's what you should be doing. Right now. Not when it's convenient, not when you have the time, not when someone asks you to, but right now.

I got back in the saddle this weekend, and it made everything else I did, or had to do, seem less daunting.

Winter's Toll

2009-04-17T21:32:00.000-04:00

As the buds break and spring slips soggily over the landscape this year, I looked back over the past month and tried to figure out just what the hell happened. I feel like I've been disconnected from just about everything; this blog is the least of things I've let slip. There's no big mystery, really, it's just that I had the end-of-winter brush with sickness. It wasn't all mine, but around casa Scriptking, when one member is down, you can't help but feel it.

Being sick is a funny thing, and it affects everyone a bit differently. Let's be clear, though, I'm talking about lowercase s sickness. Nothing serious, just pernicious. It's amazing how annoying a cold can be. A stomach virus can cast a long shadow. When you have four people living under the same roof, and two types of sick, the combinations are seemingly endless. For most of the month I managed to avoid the stuff myself, which is amazing considering I had been puked on, snotted on, and someone actually sneezed into my open mouth. The moment everyone else became ambulatory, it finally caught up with me.

But, like I said, it's only a cold, or a little extra toilet-time. I feel like a world-champ puss to complain about any of it, but still, it's the collateral effects that catch up with you. First, there's the tunnel vision. When a loved one is ill, you focus on their well-being, and all extraneous thought gets pushed into the background. Second, there's the time-suck factor. I lost count of how many times I had to visit the CVS over the past couple of weeks. Third, there's the total loss of discretionary time, which is a result of the time-suck factor. If I'm spending all that time at the CVS, that's minutes adding up to hours I don't have available to be working, relaxing, or just being human. Hence, the blog lies fallow. I'm not even going to mention the script I should be re-writing.

Weirdly, and probably because I've been watching a documentary about the space program, having a house of sick people reminds me of the process of re-entry into earth atmosphere from space. You lose communication for a time, and everything extraneous gets burned away.

Even though I acknowledge I don't have much to complain about, because everyone is relatively healthy now, it got me to thinking about how it must be for people struggling with chronic illnesses. The way I felt for the last month simply never ends for them. I really need to be more compassionate.

Having the kind of month I did also made me look back over the winter and realize that the toll for passing to the other end of the seasons was more brutal this year than last: one of my best friends died, other good friends lost a daughter, another friend suffered a near-fatal stroke. The economy isn't pinching Charon's purse at all.

I'm looking for the sun, and the warmth. I need a recharge.

Things That Give Me Gas

2009-03-26T10:29:00.000-04:00

So, I drop my kids at school this morning and I've got the radio on and I hear this ad. Scroll down to the radio ads and play Massive New Taxes on Energy.

Since I'm in the entertainment industry, maybe I listen to these things in a different way, because I'm usually trying to critically deconstruct media to see if there are particular techniques I want to use in something I'm working on. So maybe the irony of the ad doesn't strike you. The irony of the petroleum industry trying to dodge taxes by putting together a reactionary, fear-mongering ad. The irony of the ad running in the same week as the anniversary of the Valdez disaster.

Perhaps the record profits that oil companies have been racking up have escaped your notice. Could it be that you don't realize those profiteering companies fill the automobiles produced by the very same auto industry the government is currently propping up? Don't you get that your tax dollars are fueling (pardon the pun) the same industry that's spending millions of dollars on advertising to get us to help them avoid taxes?

If you've been reading this blog at all, you understand that it's not exactly a small list, that list of things that piss me off. And I don't want to sound like a total wingnut. If you drive a truck or SUV for some business, I've really got no problem with you. On the other hand, if you're a single suburban salary-boy or girl, do you really need all that steel to drive your ass back and forth to work? Don't you see you're part of the problem? You're not keeping Detroit and its workers in business, you're keeping Exxon and its shareholders rolling in green. While the economy is in a downward spiral.

The old adage used to be middle-aged men in sports cars were trying to compensate for something. What about all the 110-lb women driving Yukons or Hummers? What are they compensating for?

Ask yourself this: when the auto industry goes under (SAAB, anyone?), who do you think is going to be in line for the next round of bailouts? When Exxon comes calling, will we have the courage to ask them what happened to all their windfall profits that they never re-invested in R&D or alternative energies?

Don't listen to their ads, this is not an industry that needs government protection; the consumers have been protecting them for too long. Don't listen to their simple-minded patriotic appeals: it's not the American way to shelter a profiteering company and its shareholders. They are not a grass-roots non-profit company looking out for your future. They're one of the few industries not feeling the pinch, yet, and they're making money off of people who don't want to take responsibility for their actions, and they're raping the planet while we fiddle.

In The Details

2009-03-23T16:54:00.000-04:00

When I was a kid, I wanted nothing more than to draw comics. Somewhere in my mom's house are a number of old sketch books filled with pencil-smeared doodles of Conan and Iron Man and Batman. Over the years, my desire to draw gradually subsided and naturally, I never became a penciller extrordinaire. You know why? It wasn't because I lacked talent. I can sit down and really draw something if I want to. No, I blame it on the details.

When I was drawing, I'd hit a point where it was good enough for me, even though I knew it wasn't "right" or "done". I was satisfied with the broad strokes, I couldn't be bothered to stick with any picture until all the details were in line. That's how I knew I wasn't cut out to be an artist: I could let it slide. If you find a true passion, you don't let that happen.

Take writing, for instance.

The details matter to me, when I'm committing myself in print. My writing is an expression of my inner self that I want to reflect positively on me and those associated with me. So I take care to get the details straight. Little things -- like punctuation, grammar, and spelling -- aren't optional. There isn't a computer made that doesn't have a spell-check on it, so why aren't people using it? I come into contact with a fair number of would-be writers and it's appalling the number of them that can't put a basic English sentence together.

You could blame texting, claim we're training a tribe of sub-literate thumb-monkeys from grade-school when we give them their first cell phones. (What do 3rd graders really have to say to each other that requires constant connectivity? Nothing nice, I bet.) You could blame the internet, e-mail, twitter, even blogging (there's my daily dose of post-modern self-reflexiveness). But I use all that stuff and I still manage to be coherent in most formats. I also know the difference between a tweet and a film script or novel or adademic paper. I know what the details look like, because I pursue them daily.

If you don't crave to understand, master, and manipulate those details... well, you really shouldn't be thinking about being a writer. I refuse to read your non-sensical prattle, because I have no desire to teach you something you should have learned in the fourth grade. If you don't want it bad enough, if you can let it slide, you won't ever be a writer. So make up your mind and adjust your priorities. This is not easy work.

But God's in the details, and I'm looking.

This. Must. Stop.

2009-03-16T10:18:00.000-04:00

As I was sitting around Sunday, listening to the sounds of the rest of my family struggling with a stomach virus, I almost voluntarily joined them when I saw the front page of the New York Times bearing the news that AIG is poised to pay bonuses to the very guys who brought their company to the brink of ruin. If the taxpayers hadn't bailed the company out -- twice -- AIG would have gone over that brink and other companies would gleefully be picking over the financial carcass by now.

I'm not gonna go through the article point by point, because my head would explode. You can read the full article here if you want. Let's just keep our eye on the big balls, shall we?

1. The "financial products unit" is the part of AIG that had all the worthless debt, that caused a lot of the mess the country is in now. Six of the execs who presided -- and still preside -- over that unit stand to get bonuses of 3 million dollars. This makes perfect sense, right? Because at your job, if you fuck up the entire company and cause devastating aftershocks throughout the world, you should get rewarded. That's what would happen to me, and I'd be so callous, greedy, and contemptous of my fellow man that I'd take it. Sure. In reality, I'd be sent to jail, which is exactly where these mother-fuckers should go. Let 'em use their 3 mil to pay legal fees.

2. AIG is "contractually bound" to pay these bonuses. Oddly enough, the only people whose bonuses have been reduced are those who work outside the financial products unit, ie the parts of the company that weren't skewering the economy. That's fair, too, right? As to the "contractual" obligations, the Times also reports that the US Government essentially owns %80 of AIG, which means we can do whatever we want. It's our company now. Break the damn contracts. If those pricks want to sue someone for their bonuses, let 'em try to sue the government and see how far they get.

3. The chairman of AIG had the unmitigated gall to write to the Treasury complaining that AIG needs to "attract and retain the best and the brightest talent" and that these bonuses are part of that effort and that the government shouldn't "arbitrarily" adjust compensations, or else the talent will go away. Maybe I don't get it, but when AIG had unrestricted control over the executive compensation, they hired men who swindled large blocks of society. Is that the best and brightest? If so, let's take it down a notch to the "competent and honest" category. AIG is in no position to dictate how the government bails it out. If I go to my bank, tell them I'm going to build an addition on my house, get a loan, then blow it on crack whores, I'm betting the bank would come after me with both barrels blazing. We really should lock and load on these executive criminals. It's our money, and our company, now. If you don't like it, turn out the lights, 'cause it's over.

I can't stand this any more. It must stop. I'm writing to my representatives as soon as this posts and I urge you to do the same.

High Anxiety

2009-03-11T08:11:00.000-04:00

It's been quite a week at Casa Scriptking. Let's just say we've got a bit of anxiety floating around my place. One of us has a hospital date tomorrow, and the effect on the rest of us has been pronounced. Under the circumstances, the anxiety is perfectly understandable. Its cause is known, identifiable. Yet, the anxiety persists in all its nefarious glory.

Night sweats. Disrupted sleep patterns. Constricting bands of irrational fear. Inability to focus. Alternatively, an ability to focus only on very narrow things. A relentlessly negative attitude. Depression. Paranoia. Rage. An anxiety attack is no picnic.

One of the worst things about it is everyone sort of shuts down and stops communicating. That's about the worst thing you can do, because it just feeds all the negative feelings of isolation.

Why should anyone be interested in my own slice of irrational behavior? Have you looked at the headlines lately? There's a lot of people who are in a really bad way right now, and there's gonna be more. I can't imagine what the anxiety level must be like for someone who is about to lose (or has already lost) their job, their home, maybe even their family. There's not a lot of good news coming down the pike.

So let's take a deep breath, try and calm down, and find a little compassion for the person next to you. They may just be a little anxious.

Watch This

2009-03-06T17:45:00.000-05:00

Just to avoid the inevitable individual questions people will ask me, I'm going to add this to the blog and get it over with all at once. I'm going to commit to electronic paper my thoughts on Watchmen.

If you're a fanboy, stop reading now, because I don't need any more death marks on my head.

In full disclosure, although I've been reading comics for decades, I've never been a Watchmen devotee. I read it when it first appeared - I've got all the issues tucked away in plastic somewhere, as well as the first leather-bound compendium - but never quite understood the amount of worship it still inspires.

So, when I went to the first IMAX show of the morning, I really wasn't expecting all that much. What I got was both more and less than even those mediocre expectations. This film looks beautiful, with loving detail to every stylized pose, an animated lighting kick on every drop of the copious amounts of blood. In my theater, the sound alone was worth the price of admission. The performances were great, even in the small, thankless roles. Individual moments of this film are brilliant. And yet, and yet...

It's just too damn long. By the time all the monologuing by Ozymandias and Dr. Manhattan arrives at the climax, I wondered if anyone realized how far into self-parody it had all slipped. Maybe it would be okay if everyone wasn't so glum, and if everyone hadn't taken the whole business so seriously.

A story that was originally delivered in monthly installments, and paced accordingly, cannot be consumed straight up in 2 hours and 43 minutes. The screenwriters should have acknowledged the different medium, and instead of using the comic as unbreakable blueprint, reformed the story for the screen. My choice would have been to let Rorschach loose with his cleaver on much of the backstory.

It's also too damn bloody. Ask anyone, I'm not squeamish, I'm down for a bit of the old ultra-violence, but when I have to look away from the screen... there's something really off kilter. It creates a tone break with other parts of the film that drags the viewer out of the story entirely. It also made me scared for humanity when the guys in the row behind me were groaning orgasmically at every rending of a human being. That's what they came for, apparently.

And yes, the blue animated penis on Dr. Manhattan is distracting. Ditto the "greatest boomer hits" soundtrack.

The moments of grandeur, like when Night Owl and Silk Spectre suit up and go crime-hunting, or when Rorschach faces down an entire prison, are definitely there, but they can't quite overcome the need for a lot of cumbersome exposition.

In the end, if you like the graphic novel, you won't be disappointed in the movie. If you don't know or don't care about the graphic novel, the film will strike you the same way.

Sci-Fi In My Eye

2009-03-04T12:17:00.000-05:00

Coolest thing I've heard today:

A bunch of cutting-edge eye surgeons have figured out a silicon implant retina that connects to the optic nerve and wirelessly receives input from glasses worn externally. These guys are curing blindness.

Twenty-five years ago, when William Gibson wrote Burning Chrome, he created a character that has her eyes replaced with implant cameras - "Zeiss Ikon" eyes - in hopes of becoming a media star. It all seemed so far away, so ridiculously high-tech. Now, we're living it. Sure the technology isn't quite "there," yet. But now we can see there from here.

Gibson imagined it, scientists are creating it, society reaps the benefit. Why aren't artists and scientists worshiped? Probably because they defy easy packaging and their achievements aren't measured by simple rubrics. Still, we owe them for making the world a better place. Go out and buy a book, or visit your library, and the next time you meet a scientist (they're all around) ask them what they actually do. You may just open a door inside your own head.

They Say It's Your Birthday...

2009-02-27T09:44:00.000-05:00

It's my birthday, too, now. Bah duh duh duh dumm dah!

There's a true grandeur to having a February birthday and living in the northern hemisphere. It's basically the ass-end of the year. It's still cold, generally miserable, and even the people that love winter are longing for spring. Kids are two-thirds of the way through a school year, which means the thrill of a new grade has long worn off and they're getting a glimpse of what it's going to be like to work as adults: tedious, repetitive, and mind-numbing.

By the end of February, cabin fever has mutated into some form of malign virus where your attitude is in direct correlation to the amount of space you're sharing with other people. As one of the few American families who choose to live within our means, we have a small house, which means by the end the month when my birthday rolls around, I'm hiding the sharp objects from my kith and kin.

Most people say your birthday should be the one day you get to do what you want, just for yourself. If by that they mean, "you should do what we think you should want to do, regardless of your preference, birthday boy! And we're tagging along," then, yes, that's exactly what you get on your birthday.

How to counteract those February blues? The American way: I spent a huge amount of cash in my own private stimulus package, buying a ridiculously expensive piece of audio equipment. I hope the economy appreciates my sacrifice on my birthday. I don't think my neighbors will understand my new decibel levels of patriotism, but then they didn't wish me Happy Birthday.

On Writer's Block

2009-02-25T15:13:00.001-05:00

"I've got writer's block."

I've heard this complaint from numerous places this week, mostly from students who won't be handing in projects. It's been so familiar recently that I just have to go on public record:

There's no such thing as writer's block.

Here's a weird conundrum for you: you actually have to be a writer to claim writer's block, but no real writer actually ever claims to be blocked. You know why? Because writers write. If you aren't writing, you're not a writer.

"Writer's Block" is a euphemism that non-writers use when then want to say: I'm too lazy to do that work you wanted, but I'm creative. If you're working as a writer, you're usually under some sort of deadline or another and if you use the blocked excuse - or any other - it's a euphemism for "I really don't want to ever work again." Being blocked is simply not an option for a professional writer.

If you're too lazy to do the writing you're getting paid (or a grade) for, maybe you should stop posting all the crap on your facebook page, your blog, and any other electronic hidey-hole you have. Even if you're tweeting, you're writing, so then you aren't blocked.

Better yet, stop thinking of yourself as a writer and start facing up to the fact that you should get a real life because claiming to be a blocked writer is like claiming to be a steroid-free ball player: nobody believes you any more and no one cares. Except, of course, those ball players enjoy a level of celebrity no writer - unblocked or not - ever enjoys.

Anyway, stop whining, do your work. We don't care about how tortured you are - that's for the biographers - we only care about what's on the page. Oh, wait, there's nothing there because you're blocked...

Oscar Fallout

2009-02-23T11:05:00.000-05:00

Well, it's Bad Hangover Monday after the Oscars. Was it just me, or did it look more like the Tonys? I'm glad Hugh Jackman has declared that musicals are coming back, but maybe he should have looked at Broadway ticket sales before he announced it. If there's a sector of the economy that looks worse than banking, it may be the musical theater.

It would be easy to mock the Oscars, but all the entertainment shows will be doing it non-stop for the next week, so I'll set my sights a little higher: Sean Penn wants all of you to get on board the gay marriage band wagon! Now, let's gloss over his own personal history in the nuptial area, which makes him the less-than-ideal spokesperson for any kind of weddings. His heart's in the right place, yeah? He's an angry little bugger, but then so am I.

For the most part, I agree with him, but I think I may have a better argument than he was able to articulate. It goes like this: why not?

It can't possibly screw up the economy any worse than it already is, could it? No economic objections, then.

Marriage is a religous concept, is it not? Last I checked the government was supposed to stay out of religious matters. No serious political objections, then.

So, what we come down to is religious objections, right? Well, we're guaranteed freedom of religon under the constitution, so if there's a religion that wants to marry homosexual congregants, your objection is unconstitutional. Yes, you're Un-American if you oppose gay marriage.

Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, as a way to put everyone on constitutionally equal footing what we should probably do is remove any kind of inequalities not by protecting gay marriage but by taking away any marriage benefits from those already married. As a religious concept, it probably has no place in our government, and should be purged. So, let's nullify all existing marriages as far as the government is concerned.

All the sudden, the inequality is pretty clear, isn't it? If domestic partnerships are equal to marriage, then you won't mind giving up your marital status, will you?

And before you fall back on the Bible, and tell me how homosexual marriage isn't mentioned or condoned in the Bible, let me point out that you can't use that logic selectively. So, if you're banning things that aren't mentioned in the good book, you better be prepared to give up some other stuff as well. Pick-ups. Assault weapons. Little flag pins on your lapels. Nascar. Oh, yes... Nascar.

If the Oscars showed anything last night it's that it's a big ole world out there with plenty of other views and you need to just scooch over on the couch and make room for everybody.

On Meetings

2009-02-20T11:45:00.000-05:00

At some time in the past, someone smarter and funnier than me - well, sure that's false modesty, does anyone really think there's anyone smarter or funnier than they are? - must have written down the universal time-suck equation as it relates to meetings. If you have a reference to it, please e-mail me immediately.

In the meantime, allow me to point out some of the complexities the equation must acknowledge. First you start with an inverse proportion whereby the number of people involved in any meeting simultaneously lowers the aggregate IQ and extends the length - in minutes, or hours - of the meeting. Note that this is actually a recursive function, because as IQ is lowered, meeting time is also increased because you have to keep explaining things for the dimwits. It's like calculating compound interest.

Next, you factor in the newbies that need to be brought up to speed. Multiply the introductory time factor by the number of people who have never attended any meeting on the subject, but who are now insinuating themselves onto your project because it might look good for them, or they want to generate the appearance of doing work by glomming onto yours.

Don't forget to account for the time/salary/availability relationship. This is a function which states the lower your salary, the move vulnerable you are to being "made available" to any wing-nut above you who decides to drag you into a room with other clueless people. A general rule of this function also states that the lower your salary, the less time you actually have at your disposal for this kind of crap because you spend your days doing the work of the people who spend their time in meetings.

Finally, you need to adjust for the politico-sexual modifier, which means that anyone deliberately trying to (a) kiss ass or (b) get ass during the meeting also impacts meeting duration. In case (a) meeting duration is increased indefinitely because public ass-kissing is usually the root instigator of all meetings. In case (b) the duration of the meeting can actually decrease depending on the potential success of the operators of the function.

I will refer to this only as my special theory of meetings. Only after more exhaustive testing will I be able to create a more useful general theory of meetings.

Until then, I've got to go to another damn meeting.

Phrase of the Day

2009-02-17T17:26:00.000-05:00

This morning on the way to work I heard NPR discussing "Zombie Banks," thus simultaneously sounding the death knell for financial institutions and for any latent cool associated with those mythic monsters. Let's face it, if NPR is coining phrases using them, zombies have lost all street cred.

The financial system, though. I mean, wow. Who knew? Where did all these dead banks come from? And so quickly? I mean, like, out of the blue.

Okay, yes, I'll take my tongue out of my cheek. Anyone with a pulse has known most of the big banks were dead for a long time now, despite the life support system of the first bailout. Use the Dow Jones as your heart rate monitor. In the last couple of months, if your beats per minute dropped by half, you'd be the living dead also. Well, probably not living. Just dead.

Let's keep going with the analogy, though, because it's so much fun. Instead of shooting the banks in the head, the government has been giving them some sort of anti-zombie drug called "unlimited, unrestricted cash" and given the zombie bank leaders free brains to boot. Now, what would you expect a good zombie to do? Come back to life and give away some of their zombie-medicine to people who are in danger of becoming zombies themselves? Hell no, they took all the medicine and are coming back for more brains.

But wait, there's more: Nosfer-autos. They suck the blood from the planet, resist all attempts to kill them (efficiency standards, safety legislation, opec), and still manage to screw you. From the mythical land of Detroit, where shoddy and irresponsible products are only equal to protectionist mentality and predatory business practice, come the soul-sucking conveyances of the un-dead. Instead of dragging them out into the sun to burn the evil away, we're supposed to give them another $39 Billion worth of sunscreen?

No way. Just... no. Get ready for the head shots and the wooden stakes, people, or they're going to drag us along down with them.

Better yet, let some people with practical experience take over. How about George Romero for Commerce Secretary? Since my bud Judd bailed (see My Guilt Complex for more on that), The President is looking for someone. Romero knows how to deal with Zombies and he's used to working with small budgets. I'm sure Ralph "Van Helsing" Nader can take care of the Nosfer-autos. Let him take a crack at it. Remember the Corvair? He staked that baby pretty well. Really, can anyone make it worse at this point?

Or maybe, just maybe, we should all stop making funny little jokes (especially NPR) and the people who are responsible should man up and fix this shit. If the bankers who caused the problem can't be sent to jail (where you and I would be sent if we performed as badly as they have) then they should be forced to fix their own mess. Congress and Commerce and Treasury should shoulder the mantle of responsibility and dig in to do the dirty work. It's not going to be pretty, but it beats having your brain eaten.

Kid Approval

2009-02-16T13:33:00.000-05:00

In one of those moments of domestic chaos, in an effort to keep the screaming and yelling to a minimum, I cracked off a quick pencil sketch of Captain America to amuse my kids.
The thing I love about it is not my own dubious artistic abilities (although it impressed the 9-year olds), but that my daughter immediately gave it her stamp of approval by putting the valentine's heart sticker on it that reads "One & Only."

Some days, you just gotta love your kids.

My Guilt Complex

2009-02-15T09:46:00.000-05:00

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I usually don't talk politics. Many might mistake that silence for a couple of different things: indifference, disinterest, or ignorance. This week, however, I'm finally moved to break my silence. The impetus, oddly enough, comes from Judd Gregg and his bailout on the Commerce Secretary post.

Here's why. This guy claims he can't be part of the administration because he can't be 100% supportive. Well, isn't that what the whole "team of rivals" concept is about? Why doesn't anyone seem to understand that? We've had a lockstep administration for the last eight years and look where that's gotten us. (And by "lockstep" I mean "goose-step.") Somehow, Gregg's pull-out has left some perceived negative smear on the Obama administration, which is ridiculous. The President makes an attempt at a bipartisan group and the other side won't come to the table, and that's his fault. Sure, that makes sense. In some alternate universe. Yeah, I thought I was done blogging on comics, too.

Still, you may be wondering what the connection is to me talking politics. Well, I don't want anyone to mistake me for being indifferent, disinterested, etc. What's really kept me quiet has been a healthy dose of my own liberal guilt. It's not the common "I feel bad about every world oppression ever, so yes, hold the foam on my latte," kind of liberal guilt. Nor is it the Ann Coulter version, where every bad thing ever done in the history of the world - and to her personally - was perpetrated by a pony-tail wearing, graduate-degree holding, ACLU guy in the democratic party.

My guilt is more fundamental. Many times over the last eight years, I've held my tongue when confronted with smug conservatives denigrating liberals, democrats, and good people in general, because I believe that in this country we're allowed to speak our minds and even opinions I don't agree with have a right to be aired. Somehow, that turned into me holding my own opinions close to my vest; maybe too close.

I'm guilty. Guilty of not getting right in every one of your conservative, closed-minded faces and saying, "you're just fucking wrong." Tax cuts for the wealthy have not helped the economy; there were no WMDs in Iraq; Intelligent design is neither; the Bush administration will go down in history as the most venal, incompetent, and despised group to ever hold their respective offices; screwing the poor is not in the national interest; you're not more patriotic than me because you watch football and get drunk every single Sunday between mid-august and mid-february; being louder doesn't make you correct, it just makes you a bully; and being richer doesn't make you smarter.

I'm guilty of being tolerant, of respecting differences in culture, ethnicity, religon, and opinion. As long as we're not talking about children, I don't care whose pee-pee you want to play with. I like Europeans, because they see the big picture, and they don't suck up every ounce of fossil fuel on earth. Since we're talking about all the big stuff, I may as well get it out there: I don't dispute your right to life, I dispute your right to legislate it for everyone else in the country, the majority of whom don't agree with you. And yes, I read the New York Times and the New Yorker. More importantly, why aren't you? Ask the liberal in the corner, the woman without makeup and the really aggressive haircut, she'll explain the big words.

So, I'm going to get rid of the guilt, I hear that's healthy. I'm not keeping my opinions locked up any more. For starters: Judd - buddy - lead, follow, or get the fuck out of the way. Nobody cares about your interior struggle or your willingness to only march if you've already memorized the tune. You missed the boat on that bullshit; it sailed back in November. It's time for serious people, because there's a hell of a lot of work to do.

Wow. That felt good.

Next time we see each other on the street, don't mistake my smile for ignorance, or for disinterest. Ask yourself, do you really want to talk politics with me?

Pros of Cons

2009-02-11T08:57:00.001-05:00

Continuing my thoughts on NYCC... yes there were plenty of good things about the con. Top of the list: Ghostbusters. These guys in the pic were humping the soon-to-be-released video game from Atari. Great costumes, nice proton packs, even better game demo. Can't wait to slime my way across virtual NYC in June.

Top of the list for free swag -- the magnetic S.H.I.E.L.D. insignia from Marvel. Looks great on my desk drawers, right next to the magnetic hula girl and magnetic Mach 5. Good on you, Marvel.

The absolute bestest part of the con, though, were the professionals in attendance. While this may sound like an obvious suck-up, I'd merely point out that this isn't self-evident, because comics, like every other industry, has its share of douchebags. Any of the really bitter blogs can dish on those people. Besides, none of the people I'd be sucking up to are ever gonna read this.

I was on a bit of a mission to find qualified writers to teach a comic writing course at Drexel University in Philadelphia and met some really fantastic industry guys who were not only helpful, but immediately responsive. Randy Stradley at Dark Horse not only put me in contact with someone almost before I got home, but I swear the man was on the floor every hour on Friday looking at artist's portfolios. That's a lot of hours and a lot of pencilled boobs.

Steve Wacker, editor of Amazing Spider-man, who manages to turn out an (almost) weekly book, was on hand and also generous with his time. Perhaps that's because we were sharing jokes about Tom Brennan, the assistant editor on the book, and and an old friend of mine. Yeah, I'll betray old friends for career advancement. But it'll always be in a funny context. Simperin' Steve (his name for himself, not mine), also hosted a pretty hysterical panel on Story Structure in Comics, along with Pete Tomasi and Frank Tieri. Imagine a hot, sweaty room full of wannabe writers and artists. Actually, overfull. Spilling into the hall. All of them after that magic bullet-point template for stories that they can just fill in and be whisked away into comics super-stardom (your own Twitter feed!). The panel basically told them the truth: the story dictates the structure. They couldn't handle the truth. I love watching other writers panic.

One final pro at the con, actually even before I got there, was an old friend and former student who now professionally blogs about comics (which sounds like something you take medicine to correct). Paul Montgomery was much nicer to me in his blog than I have been to him, so you should go and read it here.

More? We'll see.

Jabbas, Leias, and Venkmans: NYC Comic Con '09

2009-02-10T12:43:00.000-05:00

First, let me get this off my chest: I should really be reading student essays. The little parasites - theoretically - put a lot of work into it, and I should respect that. But... they mostly suck, so I'm blogging instead. Is this wrong? Sure, it is, but that's me and if you don't like it, there's a little x somewhere on your screen and you should piss off, right now.

That being said, let me talk about New York Comic Con.

This would be the point where most people put in some Star Wars quote (yeah, you've already seen those blogs). Why is it that people who seek to rag on the comic scene are criminally deprived of originality? That is to say, how scathing a critique are you issuing when you quote the number one geek fanboy of all time, a guy who is not particularly known for his writing? Scum and villainy? If that's really the best you can come up with for this event, stop blogging. Ditto any "clever" word pun that ends in -gasm.

The way I'm going to start my con-commentary is with my own coined word - notice the lack of "gasm-ing" but the way I still work in the sexual connotation - here it comes, wait for it, okay tah-dah... I want to talk about swag-hags. These are the con attendees who show up with the biggest bag and proceed to fill it with anything and everything they can get their hands on, provided it's free. Now, you can tell the pros from the fanboys because the pros bring their own bags, usually emblazoned with the specs of some previous, "superior," event. I'll see your NYCC and raise you a SDCC. The fanboys take whatever receptacle they can get their hands on in a frenzy of hoarding.

The swag-hags are notable for taking any piece of garbage and putting it in their bag, regardless of the quality of said object. Or, as a not-to-be-named source from one of the big comic houses put it, "do you know how much of that free stuff was just piled up under my desk last week?" Yeah, folks, there's a reason it's free. I don't want to get all high and mighty, because that leaves you with the wrong impression. I myself had a bright yellow swag bag, but it was from Dark Horse, which is a mondo-cool group. I kept the side with the Hellboy II logo turned in ('cause mondo-cool isn't a phase I'm willing to attach to that film). But in my bag, you wouldn't find multiple copies of comics that no one would buy, I was carrying my coat. Of course, I needed to take the coat off because the ambient temp in the Javits was set for the comfort of those costumed conventioneers pictured at the top of the page.

The really hysterical part of that picture is that those people didn't arrive together, so the girls actually came to the con looking for stormtroopers. Unfortunately, with the temperature so high, and those guys completely encased in neoprene and plastic, I'm sure they were so dehydrated by the end of the day that erectile function was simply not an option. That's okay, though, because there were plenty of guys released on a day pass from a suburban basement somewhere who looked an awful lot like Jabba...

TBC...

Welcome... sort of.

2009-02-08T09:52:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I'm breaking down. I had a few hours when I wasn't under deadline for something, and I hit the damn button and now I've got a blog. Why are you reading it?