Posts tagged writing
Posts tagged writing
In my daily wander through the internet I found a reprint of a Hunter S. Thompson article. It was a reflection on Richard Nixon after his passing. I encourage everyone once again to read it, http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1994/07/he-was-a-crook/308699/. It is by far one of my favorite pieces of writing and exemplifies everything that I found so admirable in Dr. Thompson in the first place. He sits there with Vonnegut and whoever put together the Onion’s Our Dumb Century as models for writing.
The Nixon article of course takes me back to reading “Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail ‘72”. I had to take the book in a few chunks because the idea of how politics really works just bugs me followed by just plain disinterest, but I think it was a necessary read to get the real meat of what HST is all about. “…Las Vegas” was of course a very funny and excellent read with some important things to ponder in it as well but I think a lot of people get hung up on the drug spree and don’t see Thompson’s purpose in even writing about those events in Vegas. Getting weird with life and taking the pill less traveled is HST’s thing and that’s an important factor in his life, he digs that stuff. This is the twenty-first century guys, we all know Dr. Gonzos now, let’s move on to the other parts of the book.
I did not fall asleep fast enough
so once again my mind turned in on itself.
I revisited past mistakes, made my way through still lingering doubts
and readied future vindicating confrontations I would never gather the courage to say out loud.
I wound through the maze of my own thoughts till there was just nowhere left to go
and when it seemed I had finally reached the end
there came the sudden sound of bellowing thunder rolling across the sky.
I sat up and watched the freezing rain fall,
not strong enough to cleanse completely
but enough to wash away some of the grey and blackened snow.
The city and I were joined together in that moment and for a short while we understood each other well.
I am far from a genius and by some accounts not even very smart, but I am a clever enough creature to get by on my own. True genius, meaning my own governing rule for genius, are the people who can see what isn’t there. They can coalesce what is already in front of them into something new, create from pure imagination something unique and bring it into the world. Them who saw the ship among the wood in the trees, who could fathom that the forces that keep us to the earth also put the universe in motion. I can only see what others have already have, I blaze no trails in the wilderness but I can read the map a little keener than some.
Far from genius, maybe not even so smart, but always eyes open for the new. I am capable of only so much comprehension but I possess boundless curiosity. I will seek to learn until it becomes too much to really grasp and then just come back to try again. It is as it always has been, I am a perpetual inhabitant of the Middle Way. I do not rise so high but then it seems I do not really seek to either. I would not trade the sudden rush of renewed curiosity for the crushing burden of full understanding. True you can get deeper into a story when you already know the plot but you also take out some of the fun. Discovery is my driving force, not a sense of superiority.
Attempting to try new stuff I landed on this topic, “In which I rant to Hollywood on what they should do with Transformers”. It was in the notebook I jot ideas down in and frankly most of the other options in there are kind of downers. I may be a little too invested in “True Detective” at the moment. So anyway here it is my pitch for what the Transformers movies should have been.
This all started because I saw the ad for the new Transformers movie during the Super Bowl and it was pretty heavy on the Marky Mark Wahlberg and his dumb family and only hints at promising robo-men making dub-step noises as guns came from their bodies. That’s what I think is the main problem with all those movies in the first place. Too much humanity and not enough alien machine monsters. No one comes to a movie featuring a race of sentient robots and wants to know how Shia is going to get out of this one again. We want the lasers and nonsense vehicle disguises.
The fact is you don’t have to spend any money on banking someone like Wahlberg for your movie. Put that back into graphics and just have a ton of extras running away from these two factions of monstrous metal beings fight over Earth. Let Michael Bay do the thing he does best and cut out the things he does poorly, real emotion and not racist jokes. This is my quick run-down of what my version of a live-action movie would be:
No one can talk to the Transformers and they don’t even bother to learn a human language. Why bother? We are the inferior being and they can just take what they want. So a group of the “evil” Transformers comes to Earth because they are essentially space-Conquistadors, they are here to take anything of value from the planet. A second group arrives to oppose them because they keep going around destroying planets and giving their race a bad name. Humans can only try to assist the side they see as the ones not currently trying to kill all of us. Awesome fights happen, humans devise a plan to help defeat the bad faction for good. Anyone who has watched Young Justice knows that once one group of aliens gets news of Earth its just trouble from there, sequels are a given. Now Hollywood give me money.
Run little coyote
reach the trees
hide in the bushes under the shadow of leaves
Cry little coyote
with the wind to the stars
hear the howls of others deep in the dark
Sneak little coyote
among the houses of men
slink down the streets only seen now and then
Race little coyote
back to this land
Return the wild so exiled by man
I like to refer to myself as a sociable hermit. I like to go to events with people, I don’t mind crowds and I am not afraid of trying something new but damn if it isn’t easier to just stay inside and stick to the usual.
The longer I have something planned to do the longer I have to convince myself that I won’t go. This is the pattern every time: Argue with myself if I want to ever leave the house again, make myself agree I should and get enthusiastic for it, then every moment that gets closer I don’t want to go that much more. I will get dressed and be ready to leave the house sometimes just to sit back down and do nothing. Yet if you told me twenty minutes beforehand to be there I will jump out the door, I cannot have time to be inside my own head I have to go hurry something fun is happening without me.
Lately its been battling this idea that I don’t know how to really socialize with people anymore. I think I may be that boring dude who keeps standing around staring at the floor (not saying I haven’ actually done that either). I feel like I don’t do anything interesting to talk about with other people these days or that I’m too out of the loop to be involved in anything. But then you have to consider why and how you hang out with friends in the first place. They are your friends because you can do and talk about anything with those people and enjoy it.
I have to make myself go out more if anything so I can start writing funnier stuff about 2am drunk in McDonald’s again.
My dreams are seldom fantastical. I dream of the mundane and the realistic. Dreams don’t seem to be the fantasy escape they seemed to be as a kid, just things that seem like I could have really done. I get a strange sense of deja vu a lot because of things I dreamt of being so familiar later on. I haven’t had a “classic” nightmare in a long time, but a few dreams that were just uncomfortable to be in. I expect all of this is the case for a lot of people, we barely remember most of the dreams we have anyway.
I thought I might have a kick-start to some interesting dreams when I shot through a handful of “Hannibal” episodes for a couple nights before going to bed. It’s a good show with plenty to consider on psychology, fictionalized as the practice on the show is, and Hannibal Lecter is one of my favorite characters so it had to leave an impression in my brain. Yet I got really nothing dream-wise out of it. The closest I got was a dream where I was in a cop show environment and had to figure out who killed someone with a train or something but that could have been a combination of Hannibal, Law and Order, and Sherlock all in one weekend. Still it was a dream where I wasn’t just walking down the street or back in school again so it was something.
Maybe if I keep dreaming up episodes of television I can write some of them down and someone will finally pay me to do it.
In a vain attempt to force my body to sleep when I told it to I played internet radio of folk music. A victim of the Coen Brothers again, it had become my newest music fad. This turned out to be a terrible decision on my part if I ever planned to sleep that night. Songs of New England melancholy over the death of the small town, Spanish romance describing the beauty of the earth, and Irish ballads transferring the singer’s love into you, all these turn out to take the mind to strange places, none of them sleep.
This is the beauty and the curse of music. They are spells, deep magic discovered long ago to force emotions into your being and transport you brain to away from the here and now. Sometimes you see the picture a song is directly describing to you but a lot of times it takes you to places you’ve been or want to be. Music can raise you up or take you down but we always come back so we must be grateful for the ride no matter what.
Music doesn’t have to highbrow or snobbish if it does something for you deep inside. Pop music often lifts your mood, classical music can strip away the modern world around you and sometimes you need punk music in your life to have a shared expression of what you feel. There are no guilty pleasures or must-listens and must-nots. If the music moves you then its served its purpose.
I went out on New Year’s eve to counteract 12 months filled with isolation. There I found friends who welcomed me back like we never missed a beat and the long absence from each other didn’t exist. At the end of the night I left to experience the new year alone again as I trod home. But this was a new kind of alone, the necessary calm after a whirlwind. My ideal night lie before me. A thick layer of snow created a quiet calm rare in the city. Grey clouds emptied but still lingering around combined with the ground’s white coat to bounce around any light to be found and illuminated the night, to create that impossible dark seen in film where we still see everything on the screen. the slow pace of trudging through inches of snow forced a moment of appreciation contemplation, and so I enjoyed the night in all it’s forms.
My new goal for the new year is to get back into writing in any way possible, so I plan to create a Writing Wednesday on here where I just brainstorm anything, long or short, as long as I get something down at least once a week. Consider this the post for week one.
2013 was what I describe as a slow burning mental and emotional breakdown for me. I hope to ride the upswing into 2014 and get more proactive in remedying things. One of the symptoms of my problem was what made it worse for me, not really keeping any contact with people, always thinking I made poor company in my state. At first I felt angry that no one would really reach out to me either but how can anyone know you need the help if they don’t know there’s a problem to begin with. The emotional breakdown part came from always keeping an upbeat face in front of everyone and having that finally come crashing down. If I couldn’t be fun around people I would just seclude myself from them. But the last days of 2013 I can say I had friends who didn’t forget me in the clutch and let me know I was always welcome.
Positive action brings about positive change and sitting alone most days doesn’t do much for me. I have to seek out new things and reconnect with the world around me.