let's get naked

• contacted frank darabont yesterday
• put together a new font for the titles on clubhouse blues
• wrote a blog entry about work opportunities and whatnot
• watched mythbusters, life on mars from monday, the premiere of justice (which i rather liked, despite an eratic camera in the early scenes), and the finale of 30 days (and was confused in that one cause there was some spoiler going about (that i avoided) that seemed to involve something major happening, so i expected violence or something, but the episode was good)
• DID NOT write any fiction

but, that's not one i'm intending to be on about this morning. i wanted to discuss prudery. see, i put a picture of someone's naked back on the cover of my cafepress book, seeing her naked, and two of my sisters recently bought the book, but not before freaking out about the cover and the model and a whole bunch of silliness, like seeing someone without clothes is the most horrible evil that could ever be. of course, they grew up with the same mother i had, who would cover eyes or tell you to turn your head if a frickin sec scene came on the tv or in a movie. violence, of course, was fine. this is america, afterall. watch all the violence you want, but don't you dare look at anyone's naughty bits, even if there's nothing pornographic going on. and, when you're getting dressed or undressed, you better hide in a closet or the bathroom so no one can see you, cause, duh, didn't adam and eve cover themselves after they sinned, and didn't god say that was the way it should be?

not that i tend to listen to god anymore, of course, but all of that biblical shit is in my head forever--helps on the religion category over at funtrivia.com, which is nice--and i suppose i understand the inability to fight it, deeply ingrained prudery and whatnot. but, come on. is a little flesh on display so bad?

even when i was young, i wondered about a lot of the religious stuff, but specifically this one i remember. i liked the idea of living a life that didn't require clothes, where clothes were more decoration than necessity. i've since then toyed with the notion of visiting a nude beach, or something like that--though, my prude side combined with my layers of fat combined with what people i know might think of me after have always stopped me--but to no avail. keep the clothes on and everything is well, i guess. the world goes on, people get slaughtered over political, economic and militaristic ideals and people still fucking freak out over a little skin

hurricanes destroy whole cities (and not just new orleans), levees break and people die while the government sits by the wayside, wars are waged in the name of freedom but instead oppress a few nonwhites on the other side of the world, and all for control of oil, even as gas prices rise and gas guzzling suvs get more popular, criminals rot in prison, with no hope of rehabilitation or help, and the world goes on, as long as we all keep our clothes on

it's pathetic

found this anonymous quote in the wikipedia entry for nudism:

The best thing to do would be to designate everywhere as clothing optional, and we could leave little fenced in areas for the prudes to prance around in. Call them "Prudist Camps". They could peer out of their fences and indulge in their offensive "I'm offended" behaviour whenever they saw a natural person walk by, without bothering the rest of us.

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bold moves, so to speak; captions; and writing in general
i recently in this blog mentioned the notion of sending a screenplay of mine to a couple people, (directly or indirectly) kevin bacon and atom egoyan, and i was barely willing to do it, risk of rejection and all that, but more recently i figured, what the fuck? and i sent it. and, just this morning, i did something else i mentioned in that same blog entry, i contacted frank darabont about a story to which he owns the film rights. don't know if anything will come of any of those things, but i think it's worth noting that i did them, even if just for my own sense of... not being such a fuck-up that i can't bother to put my stuff out there from time to time. there should be a word for that, and probably is, but i don't know it

my job, part time for a website that dealt in ads for dog breeders and dog supplies (treats, grooming supplies and even clothes), recently relocated, so i'm unemployed currently. i've interviewed for a couple jobs already, applied for a few more. notable among the interviews was one at a place that does closed captions. part of the testing process after the interview was to add captions to a bit of an episode of rome from last season, which was cool, and not just cause it's my first interview to involve a sex scene, but cause i think doing the caption thing would be fun (as long as i get to sit and just watch the show first if it's something i watch anyway, that is). but, the hours might not work, busy family schedule and me being the only driver of the only car and all that. it's possible to turn that job into an at home thing later, but i don't know how much later. i would be working in hollywood (literally and in that much more important way as well)

i still want to write, though

it's weird. i'm constantly giving up on that, thinking ok, no more writing, just gonna let it slide away and be done. but, then i find myself writing again (a half dozen or so pages of on the slopes of stanjantuwel yesterday, for example). i find it hard, considering all the other things in life i have to do (and choose to do in the spare moments), to get back to old writings of mine, doing rewrites and new edits and sending them out. but, maybe that will change, now that i've gotten those crazy moves mentioned above out of my system. maybe i can finally finish editing clubhouse blues and get it sent out to an agent. maybe i can finally do a rewrite of the man with the holes in his hands, even if i just end up selfpublishing through cafepress, like i did with seeing her naked, which has sold a few copies already

of course, here i am writing a blog entry instead of doing any of that editing. not sure if that's a problem or not

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Advanced Global Personality Test

Advanced Global Personality Test Results Extraversion |||| 13. Stability |||||||||| 33. Orderliness |||||||||||||||| 63. Accommodation |||| 16. Interdependence |||||||||||| 43. Intellectual |||||||||||||||| 70. Mystical |||||||||| 36. Artistic |||||||||||||||||||| 83. Religious |||||||||| 36. Hedonism |||||| 30. Materialism |||||||||||||||||| 76. Narcissism || 10. Adventurousness |||||| 30. Work ethic |||||| 30. Self absorbed |||||||||||||| 56. Conflict seeking |||||||||||| 50. Need to dominate |||||||||||||||| 63. Romantic |||||||||||| 43. Avoidant |||||||||||||||||| 76. Anti-authority |||||||||||||||| 70. Wealth || 10. Dependency |||||||||||| 50. Change averse |||||||||||||||| 63. Cautiousness |||||||||||||||| 70. Individuality |||||||||||||||| 63. Sexuality |||||||||||||||| 70. Peter pan complex |||||||||||||||||||| 90. Physical security |||||||||||||||| 70. Physical Fitness || 10. Histrionic |||||||||||||| 56. Paranoia |||||||||||||||||||| 83. Vanity |||||| 30. Hypersensitivity |||||||||||||||||||| 83. Female cliche |||||||||| 36.

Stability results were moderately low which suggests you are worrying, insecure, emotional, and anxious.

Orderliness results were moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly organized, reliable, neat, and hard working at the expense of flexibility, efficiency, spontaneity, and fun.

Extraversion results were very low which suggests you are extremely reclusive, quiet, unassertive, and secretive.

trait snapshot:

depressed, introverted, neat, needs things to be extremely clean, observer, perfectionist, not self revealing, does not make friends easily, suspicious, irritable, hates large parties, follows the rules, worrying, does not like to stand out, fragile, phobic, submissive, dislikes leadership, cautious, takes precautions, focuses on hidden motives, good at saving money, solitary, familiar with the dark side of life, hard working, emotionally sensitive, prudent, altruistic, heart over mind, unadventurous

data entry, lunacy, writing, and other stuff not worth mentioning
Now Playing: pandora
found the following on a post-it note in my desk drawer:

enter item number, enter quantity, enter cost per unit, hard return
enter item number, enter quantity, enter cost per unit, hard return...

and so on.

some days i wonder if these "items" even exist or if it's all just some ploy to keep we deskslaves drained of anything resembling hope or happiness. sell your sould to the gods of data entry and you won't even have the energy to be depressed about it.

and there's a note to "reference muslims to mecca, deskworkers to breaktime," and it's dated 12-2-5 with an REGB (my initials)

guess i wasn't too keen on my data entry job last december. odd to find this post-it now, when i'm looking for a new job (my current one at puppydogweb coems to an end this week or maybe next, as the business is relocating out of my commute range) and may very well end up in yet another data entry related position. got my resume into a closed caption place, which could be interesting, but who knows? of late, i've been

1. thinking on the whole giving up on writing thing, cause who's got the time when it goes nowhere?
2. thinking on trying my hand at some crazy, forward things, like contacting frank darabont about a chance to write something, or sending one of my scripts to atom egoyan's agent or kevin bacon's people

the latter sounds like a perfectly feasible idea late at night, but morning comes and i think myself a lunatic (literally, i suppose). and, also last night, i was looking forward to writing a bit of "on the slopes of stanjantuwel," my gardea version novel of my old vikariad online comic--i'm halfway through chapter three, of what looks to be nine (as opposed to the original seven), and it's in now way a regular everyday writing thing--but morning comes and it seems more another waste of time. i've already got to go by the post office today and i've got to try listing some comics on ebay (again) to make a little money, and of course, i've got to find a new job (an activity i'm not eager to do--the finding part, i mean). been up for more than two hours already and i've looked up contact information for darabont (already had contact information for egoyan and bacon in that same drawer where i found that bit about data entry), copied some photos off the digital camera to the hard drive--for a book cover of all things, as if i'm about to put together another self published book (i've got seeing her naked available on cafepress already, but i've only sold a copy to one person, go figure). i like designing covers, i like writing, i love the idea of selling my work to an audience, but i really suck at making that audience grow

speaking of "seeing her naked" though, when i wrote it originally, it built an audience, emailed chapter by chapter to an audience that reached near a hundred, later posted to two different message boards, chapter by chapter again, to an audience the number of which i couldn't be too precise, but all in all, read by (benefit of the doubt to me, here) a couple hundred people. still, it isn't much, but it's a lot more than one. and, i've got newer stuff--my gardea books, a novel called "clubhouse blues," a novel called "beginning," various short stories and some older novels that could probably use rewrites--that, often at night, as i mentioned, i think could use a wider audience, deserve a wider audience. but, who am i to decide that last bit, you know? i've got a weird combination of low self esteem and arrogance that tends too often toward the low self esteem side when it counts and tends too often toward the arrogance when it doesn't, getting me to work on project after project over the years and get hardly a one out to any real audience. of course, i must consider that half the problem is my work isn't really that good, my biggest fans being folks who obviously relate to me personally anyway and have a biased (consciously or not) view of things, and that it isn't all about my inability to get stuff out there, though that is a big problem

and i've gained weight of late, and it's been a horribly hot summer here in california, and now i've got to find a new job, so my future schedule is blurry... which i suppose explains why i like my moxi dvr so much, watching all my tv on whatever schedule i can manage, and why i like knowing what's coming of late, specific times and dates, things to do, the more specific the better i suppose...

except, even that isn't exactly true. some of my best times are when i get to, on the spur of the moment, pop a dvd in and watch a movie or an episode of some old show (currently making my way through space: above and beyond) or when i get to pull out some lego blocks and go to town building whatever occurs to me, or often a movie or tv show while i build with lego blocks, all the while checking that the kids are alive in the next room (cause, you know, that's a must)

and one of the kids is gone right now, a couple weeks into a four week visit with her grandparents on the other side of the country, so the house is different all around, different feel, different tone, not drastically--not like she runs the place or anything--but noticeably. and, i really should be writing about vik (formerly "vike") right now, headed into the balkor (formerly "the woods") with his pere (formerly "father"). so, i suppose i'll cut this entry here

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airports, agnostics, atheists, asylums and alcatraz (or the lack thereof)
Now Playing: pandora
hayley left the state this morning. had to get up at 6 to go to the airport. was asleep about midnight, after the colbert report, so it wasn't too bad.

been wanting to write an essay about agnosticism and atheism, but just can't stand reading the various "proof of god" websites thismorning. there's arrogance and inanity all around--even from my side of things, i'll admit--and i'm just not in the mood. did find a nifty little quote about agnostics though, then lost it when i did a copy and paste and can't seem to figure out which site in the firefox history had it (clicked each one and can't find it again, which is odd). it was something like--and i wish i could get the wording right as i saw it--"how can you be sure you know enough to decide you can't know everything?"

busy of late in my spare moments building a few lego things, using the new batman sets. built an elaborate batcave:

and now arkham asylum:

and after watching murder in the first the previous weekend, we went on a whim to san francisco this last weekend, got around to chinatown, fisherman's wharf, pier 39, lombard street, ate at a chinese restaurant in chinatown, at hard rock cafe, at ghiardelli square, but alcatraz boat tickets were sold out. had a good time, did a lot of walking (just left the car at the hotel and walked everywhere) and a bit of swimming (in the hotel pool, not the bay).

by the by, that urge to write about agnostics came from a guy on pbs friday night in the hotel in san francisco, talking about politics and the mideast and whatnot, then asked about his agnosticism, he proceeds to ask why the universe is so complicated, why this and why that... and that bugs me to no end, when folks claim they don't believe in a creator then presume to ask "why?"

see, if you think the "how" of it is complex, fine, i'll grant you that; i will never know everything, but i allow for the possibility that everything can be known, even if it takes a lot of time and a lot of research. but, throwing out that "why" question assumes a reason, a purpose, and if you're going to bother with that, i say pick a diety already, be it allah, jhwh or even cthulhu. at least, then, we've got a debate

magic crap lady in the water
m night shyamalan, like those folk in the village, isolates himself from the world at large, from hollywood, and does his thing in his own way, with nary a dissenting voice getting in his way--though his delivery of his latest script, it seems, wasn't received well by his people at warner. they thought him crazy, thought he'd lost touch with reality, with film, with, well, anything normal i suppose...

and, they were right

lady in the water amounts to a nice looking piece, but a self-indulgent, often silly, thing that makes itself up as it goes along, purporting to be about finding purpose in a world gone crazy (and we're reminded by every tv and radio in the background that the world is caught up in wars and rumours of wars), or some shit like that, even while the end of the movie puts to an end any purpose found within by any of the multitude of characters were get to meet (and, really, we do little more than meet most of them, shyamalan only allowing time to get to know a handful, including his own character (but i'll get to his character in a moment))

a fairy tale in structure, but far too complicated within to really work for children, i'm betting, and far too obsessed with bryce dallas howard's legs (not that there's anything wrong with that, in theory) as a constant reminder that she's wearing nothing more than a borrowed man's shirt, cause, remind us and remind us again, she's not human... cause she's got so few lines and so little to do, oddly enough, that we really need those constant reminders

then, there's paul giamatti's schlubbish caretaker, isolated even from the rest of the cast by living in a small house at the edge of the apartment building property, scarred by the trama of losing his wife, a la mel gibson's minister in signs, and his kids. and giamatti, as usual, puts his all into the role, makes cleveland heep into a real person, even if he then gets dragged into exposition scene after exposition scene--which, you'd think would be even more traumatic than losing his family, but no, apparently, saving the narf from the scrunt that wants to kill her so the giant eagle can take her away--seriously, that's the plot--we're supposed to believe is saving his life, even though it only supplies him a day or two of adventure, and localized adventure at that

but, there's another character worth mentioning as well. and it isn't the recluse who we're supposed to believe is a well respected old man, when he just seems like a crabby old hermit in his early scenes. and it isn't any of the other myriad of characters--not even the film critic, shyamalan's obvious attack on similar ilk in and around hollywood after his previous film was so poorly received, who tells us exactly how the film is structured, when important characters would have been introduced to foreshadow their later importance, and all that, even predicting his own surviving of an attack by the scrutn to be important later, then, surprise surprise, getting killed like all those hateful film critics need to be, apparently). no, it's shyamalan's own character, his largest role yet in any of his movies, a writer who's work is going to change the world. seriously, he's arrogant enough to cast himself as a writer who will change the world. i mean, i'd like to cast myself as that sort of thing also, in real life if not in a story, but, i don't know, i'd like to think i would have the presence of mind not to present myself as such to the audience with a big "fuck you, it's my movie and i'll do what i want" attitude. although, i do wish i could do a movie and be free to do what i want with it, i hope i'd have a better grasp of narrative structure, a better sense of subtlety, and, hell, the wherewithall to at least get a nice mermaid butt shot at least as brief as that in the disney produced splash instead of lingering so much on legs...

and what was with putting the camera in the position of story--that's the narf's name--so often? is shyamalan that desperate to speak directly to his audience?

and, why try to be clever about storytelling--the amusing back and forth and forth between heep, the korean student and her mother withstanding--with the critic's exposition about how the introduction of characters works, nevermind that cleveland would have been introduced to all the characters long before we meet them, and the critic's final scene, commenting specifically on film structure and unlikeable characters, only to die and turn immediately into a useless character, a misstep among missteps in a script riddled with them... and i think all that paragraph was supposed to be a question, so... ?

why make up your own mythology when you can discuss purpose and meaning much easier if you use something more familiar?

and why cast yourself when you can barely emote and just come off as a self centered, arrogant prick by doing so?

and, why build your own apartment building? were there none available at all in philadelphia?

and, why the fuck did you cut to the two villagers finding the costume missing when the drama would have been heightened by us NOT FRICKIN KNOWING THAT NOAH'S DRESSED UP?!

oh, scratch that last one. wrong movie

bombs, profanity and fantasy worlds
Now Playing: kevin & bean on KROQ
so, israel's bombing the shit out of lebanon, president bush gets caught using profanity (which only raises him up in my book, not that that puts him anywhere near acceptable) and life goes on in the empire

speaking of bush, he's about to veto an expansion of stem cell research funding

and it's still pretty damn hot outside

but i'm off work today... or rather i'll be working on my own writing-related stuff at home today, finishing off an update of my gardea glossary in preparations to do my fantasy novel version of my viking story, the vikariad

and, cutting this rambling short, here's something to pass your time: the lemming drops studio store

it's hot out there for a blimp

california + summer	global warming	+ being overweight = bad

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nine steps out of hell (a comedy of a sort)

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thank god for terrorists
first, it should be noted that my title is not serious. i wouldn't thank god for anything, even if he did bother to exist. second, i should clarify my thankfulness. without the so-called "terrorists" commandeering planes back in ought one, airline prices might not have been so cheap and sarah (now my wife) would not have been able to afford five flights between her home in pennsylvania and california inside a half year or so and we wouldn't have ever moved in together and we wouldn't be married

but, enough about that. in other news, it's just coming out that, back in march, a handful of us soldiers deliberately murdered the family of a young iraqi girl they saw while running a roadblock, just so they could have the time to rape her before they shot her and burned her (and her family's) remains

and, on that light note, i should mention that north korea has been firing off some missiles of late, one of them supposedly with a long enough range to reach alaska, and apparently this was breaking news the other day, cause we all know that 1) alaska is the #1 target of all sovereign nations with missiles and 2) if something is breaking news it just has to be important, nevermind all the car chases we get here in southern california that make "breaking news" status then mean nothing by like the next day--and that's if you're a car chase enthusiast

but, of course it matters that north korea has long range missiles, cause that means we can act threatened and act more justified in killing foreigners half a world away. you know, pretending that north korea will ever actually be a problem for us. but, nuclear warheads involved or not (in this test case, of course, not) japan wants the UN to get some sanctions going against north korea, cause such an evil, horrible place as our forever and constant enemy of eastasia, er, north korea wants to fire some nuclear weapons at us--or at anyone for that matter--a little slap on the wrist (aka sanction) oughta put a quick stop to that. bureaucracy trumps evil everytime, right. that is how god threw lucifer out of heaven, afterall, by passing sanctions against guys with horns

and instead of raping young iraqi girls, we should just be sanctioning them. cause sanctions never created any "terrorists" now, did they?