Once again an apology for the lack of updates. I could blame it on the emotional freefall I've been in since learning that Gilmore Girls was coming to a close, but you know, it had run its course and resolved itself about as well as I had hoped, plus I'm a little too tough to let the future of a CW network television show affect my creative output (actually, Veronica Mars may be cancelled too as of Thursday morning, so maybe I should wait before making a bravado-filled statement I might regret).
Some serious computer problems out here in minneapolis, and I don't know if I'm going to be online with my computer the whole time I'm here (about 2 1/2 more weeks). Apparently my computer is too NEW to be compatible with the modem & wireless security at the place I'm subletting. Way to go, Apple. That's what nearly $2000 gets you. Oh, my 90-day tech support window is over already too? Unless I want pay $350 to extend my warranty and regain the right to hear some Indian operator posing under a fake American name type what I'm saying into their own help software and stall me with pre-scripted babble (personally I would feel in better hands if they used their own names; the smartest kid when I was in elementary school--let me rephrase that to allow for my younger self, who was able to get much further ahead with little effort--the second smartest kid when I was in elementary school was named Deepak, and I know if it was him instead of "John" on the other end of the line I wouldn't be so skeptical). Alright, maybe it was Qwest, the ISP, who was outsourcing the help line jobs, but allow me a little poetic license in combining the two corporate brick walls I just hit, for pete's sake.
What this all means is no pictures, which, let's face it, is a great way to not have to sit down and actually write something on a regular basis. Since I just spent the most part of a week driving across the Great American West, I was hoping to share some of the visual record from said trek, and I assure you there's some great stuff scattered among the typical Me In Front of Mount Rushmore shots (there's actually a Me Appearing To French Kiss George Washington's Profile shot, but I'm sure that's been done a million times as well, no offense Martha).
Do you want to see me ride a 6-foot-tall jackalope? Or Ryan's face in the cut-out hole of a squaw, holding a papoose? Yeah, well, you're going to have to wait. Unless you all want to pitch in to pay for my AppleCare package (if I knew there were more than 5 people reading this blog I'd try to start one of those Everyone Just Donate A Dollar For My Insignificant Unnecessary Purchase That Somehow Becomes a Noble Quest Because I'm Shamelessly Throwing Myself On The Mercy Of The Masses And I'll Have Enough To Get It things that some girl used to pay her way through college or whatever). I guess that only happens if you absent-mindedly lose or break something important so your friends feel bad and pitch in to buy a new one for you (right, Alexis?).
Some would say, hey, you have a work computer you share with a guy who's now gone most of the time hanging out with his girlfriend, so what's the big deal? You still have internet access. Well, I'll tell you. I do a lot of downloading. I'm not sure if I should say it's porn so the music and television industries won't come after me, or admit to being the kind of guy who scours torrent sites in hopes of tracking down fragments of his past (hey, someone uploaded that cartoon I saw once when I was 8! I guess I have to spend 3 days and 1.5 gigs of memory getting all 24 episodes of it, even though I'm either [a] never going to watch all of them, if any or [b] be totally disappointed about how shitty it is compared to what I remember). Take your pick; I can't win.
Others would say, maybe this is a sign to stop spending so much time online, and actually use your computer to write something constructive, like another screenplay you won't do anything with, or a script for one of those short films you keep talking about making but never do.
Hey, great idea.
5.16.2007
5.07.2007
While we're on the subject...
I'm not going to pretend that this post isn't a placeholder of sorts...I had hoped to be updating more often, and still plan to, but I bit off a lot last week (as you can see from the previous post), and frankly I'm still masticating on that one. The fact that said action rhymes with "procrastinating" should be regarded as a coincidence and nothing more.
I also can't deny that religion has been on the brain a bit lately. And it seems to me that no matter how much I protest, the audience is going to surmise that one is preoccupied. Honestly, it never has been a big part of my life since I came of age and called into question the things I had been taught, which also were beliefs that my parents appeared to be taking for granted and not overtly passionate about. Sure enough, when I revealed to my father that I simply wasn't interested in taking any more religious classes (I was just entering high school at the time) or attending any communal services, he didn't put up any kind of noticeable fight. At the time he was busy taking care of (and worrying about) my increasingly sick mother, so I imagine retaining me as one of god's warriors wasn't too high on his priority list. Perhaps his own beliefs had been called into question and he didn't feel hypocritical enough to ask me to reconsider.
At any rate, I am eternally thankful for his understanding and/or lack of energy, and not in the way that I'm thankful I was indulged as a child, which has certainly turned out to be more of a double-edged sword. It was the first step towards exploring many of my preconceived notions, and forming my own set of beliefs, which I hope have become more flexible as I've grown older. A favorite quote of mine is one from TImothy Leary: "You're only as young as the last time you changed your mind." That's something I always try to keep in mind when I find myself growing intolerant of certain things. Now that doesn't mean I'm going to be a born-again christian next week; it's about being open and available to anything that might come down the pike.
So despite my aversion in my adult life to any kind of dogmatic system I've found myself reading a lot of literature lately that deals with people's beliefs, the way that people act on them (or fail to), and how it shapes their lives. A few in particular are Philip K. Dick's The Transmigration of Timothy Archer, and Robertson Davies' Deptford Trilogy (as of this date the first two installments, Fifth Business and The Manticore). You would be hard-pressed to find a subject that illuminates the human condition as well as this one, and it never ceases to be fascinating regardless of how much of it you think is hogwash or a crutch for self-actualization.
In closing, I'd like to share with you a piece that I wrote a few years ago, which isn't from any particular well of inspiration save for the fact that I needed new material for an open mic I was performing at that evening. You will note that this work references both christianity and communist China, the idea being that these are both institutions which have strayed from their original, pure intentions, and how much so is in the eye of the beholder.
***
THE FLOWER AND THE GLORY
oh when the saints come parched and thin
there's a canteen sip for each sun-baked sin;
all good things must come to a bend,
the hump on the back of the camel skin
she mumbles out the feather-pen writ
cabalist incantations,
nothing more tragic than misspelled magic;
the croak of desperate desert vespers
she takes the paperwhites outside
to overdose on natural light
like incinerated astronauts
in welcome home atmosphere,
ashen scent on the breeze
she snaps a malade stalk
and thinks of Youth in Asia;
tanks for nothing--
scars on the stars in the city square;
root out the rats and their last caveats,
the hammer and sickly banner
all year-plans rolled up and stored away;
varied degrees of internal decay
betray a hemisphere of flying
in the falter of marches and churches;
the withered remains of growing pains--
deaf throes of the flower and the glory.
***
I also can't deny that religion has been on the brain a bit lately. And it seems to me that no matter how much I protest, the audience is going to surmise that one is preoccupied. Honestly, it never has been a big part of my life since I came of age and called into question the things I had been taught, which also were beliefs that my parents appeared to be taking for granted and not overtly passionate about. Sure enough, when I revealed to my father that I simply wasn't interested in taking any more religious classes (I was just entering high school at the time) or attending any communal services, he didn't put up any kind of noticeable fight. At the time he was busy taking care of (and worrying about) my increasingly sick mother, so I imagine retaining me as one of god's warriors wasn't too high on his priority list. Perhaps his own beliefs had been called into question and he didn't feel hypocritical enough to ask me to reconsider.
At any rate, I am eternally thankful for his understanding and/or lack of energy, and not in the way that I'm thankful I was indulged as a child, which has certainly turned out to be more of a double-edged sword. It was the first step towards exploring many of my preconceived notions, and forming my own set of beliefs, which I hope have become more flexible as I've grown older. A favorite quote of mine is one from TImothy Leary: "You're only as young as the last time you changed your mind." That's something I always try to keep in mind when I find myself growing intolerant of certain things. Now that doesn't mean I'm going to be a born-again christian next week; it's about being open and available to anything that might come down the pike.
So despite my aversion in my adult life to any kind of dogmatic system I've found myself reading a lot of literature lately that deals with people's beliefs, the way that people act on them (or fail to), and how it shapes their lives. A few in particular are Philip K. Dick's The Transmigration of Timothy Archer, and Robertson Davies' Deptford Trilogy (as of this date the first two installments, Fifth Business and The Manticore). You would be hard-pressed to find a subject that illuminates the human condition as well as this one, and it never ceases to be fascinating regardless of how much of it you think is hogwash or a crutch for self-actualization.
In closing, I'd like to share with you a piece that I wrote a few years ago, which isn't from any particular well of inspiration save for the fact that I needed new material for an open mic I was performing at that evening. You will note that this work references both christianity and communist China, the idea being that these are both institutions which have strayed from their original, pure intentions, and how much so is in the eye of the beholder.
***
THE FLOWER AND THE GLORY
oh when the saints come parched and thin
there's a canteen sip for each sun-baked sin;
all good things must come to a bend,
the hump on the back of the camel skin
she mumbles out the feather-pen writ
cabalist incantations,
nothing more tragic than misspelled magic;
the croak of desperate desert vespers
she takes the paperwhites outside
to overdose on natural light
like incinerated astronauts
in welcome home atmosphere,
ashen scent on the breeze
she snaps a malade stalk
and thinks of Youth in Asia;
tanks for nothing--
scars on the stars in the city square;
root out the rats and their last caveats,
the hammer and sickly banner
all year-plans rolled up and stored away;
varied degrees of internal decay
betray a hemisphere of flying
in the falter of marches and churches;
the withered remains of growing pains--
deaf throes of the flower and the glory.
***
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