Category: personal

also

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It’s a fact that I’m not technically allowed to watch Bruce Lee movies, in that I get kind of hyped up and destroy college apartments.

But damn, man. So good. He beat up Jackie Chan and broke Chuck Norris’ neck (Chuck, who had a good thing going until he came out MAGA and now, no one thinks he’s invincible; he’s just another asshole).

Anyway, I should probably clean this mess up.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1699 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Sloppy Seconds, Tucker Max (somehow even stupider than the other ones)
Comics: Tomb Raider v2 18, Lara Croft And The Frozen Omen 1-3
Music: What Hits!, Red Hot Chili Peppers

rounding down

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I honestly don’t know where to go from here. The situation in the States gets worse and worse; they don’t even pretend to care about reality or facts anymore. They just spout lies.

How long before they just start murdering their opponents? I mean, Virginia Guiffre did not die of suicide – that’s bullshit.

They’re already doing it. The question is, how long before they just fake some charges and start doing it against the people they really want to do it to – senators and governors and journalists and such.

Someone hide AOC.

You know it’s where they’re headed – there will be no election in 2026. Not if they can help it.

You know if there is, and it’s not just a total scam, they’d get blown right the fuck out of office.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1086 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Sloppy Seconds, Tucker Max (nascent right wing culture, right here)
Comics: Tomb Raider v2 6-9
Music: A Western Harvest Field By Moonlight, Beck

sunshine and puppies

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And beer. The local Barks ‘n’ Brew, always for a good cause, and a good time.

Beats yardwork, which is all I did this morning, after editing. I could use the break.

Every day seems more than a marathon, it’s a car chase, a manic Daniel Radcliffe running around with guns taped to his hands, a sprint with obstacles that goes the half-circuit.

I’m way too out of shape for it.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1347 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: SNAFU, Ed Helms
Comics: Tomb Raider v2 2-5
Music: West Coast Vs. Wessex, NOFX/Frank Turner (oh my god, Turner turning Fat Mike into a lyricist with his beautiful arrangements?  I love me some NOFX, but whoever would have thought?  Too bad the NOFX covers of his songs were... less good.  The second half of this album is brilliant.)

almost, but not quite

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Thought I’d be caught up by now, but nope.

Too much doomscrolling.

Motherfuckers. Stop being so doomsy.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1013 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: SNAFU, Ed Helms
Comics: Monster War 4, Tomb Raider: The Greatest Treasure Of All 1, Tomb Raider: The Beginning 1, Tomb Raider v2 1
Music: Werewolves And Lollipops, Patton Oswalt

rants that went the wrong way

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But were still somehow kind of right? Like, it’s the stuff you don’t want to say out loud, because it’s the kind of thing that a good and just society would never say or do, but ultimately, knows sometimes needs to be done?

I mean, I’m not saying anything in particular. In this case, it’s a part of Bad Neighbours, a peak point where things have gone off the rails and the main character has made a certain decision that ultimately, is the wrong decision, but also, kind of the right decision, in the way that we’d all like to ignore Nazis and let them have their little hate parades and such as long as they’re just out there playing pretend and don’t have any actual power and aren’t physically hurting other people.

But the second they do that? Well, I mean, I know how Jack Kirby would have seen it: see a Nazi, punch a Nazi, and certainly, the second there’s violence, it’s up to us to oppose it. I truly believe in the Tao concept of entering a fight like a funeral, with the same solemnity, and the intent to simply end it as quickly and peacefully as possible.

But then, what do I know? I’m a lifelong pacifist who has never actually been in a fight ever, beyond some wrestling with my older brother as kiss. I don’t think I’ve ever been punched in the face.

Then again, maybe that’s because I’m not a Nazi.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1826 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Captain Paul, Alexandre Dumas
Comics: Tomb Raider 33-36
Music: Welcome To My Dream, MC 900 feat. Jesus

coming close

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I’m coming up on the end of the third draft. I’ll probably be another week or two, but then, hopefully, all the major components are there and it’s just tweaking and making sure all the little things, like what name I used for some mentioned place or character in scene two matches my return comment in scene thirty-one.

They kind of don’t.

I’m catching it as I go.

And all of a sudden, I’m panicking. Did I wing this shit? Is it poorly planned, poorly executed?

Damn it. I suck.

I’m sure all writers feel this way at some point, but also, at some point, it’s always fucking true.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1129 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Solar Lottery, Philip K. Dick (I like that women's fashion is apparently just walking around topless - bit pervy, kinda sexist, Dick, old boy)
Comics: Tomb Raider 26-27, Tomb Raider Journeys 9-10
Music: Weighting, Rollins Band

guilt

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I mean, I’ve got a lot of it.

I try not to have it. I know people that look like me have done all kinds of horrible shit, and indeed, due to stupidity or selfishness or ignorance of the world around me, I’m sure I’ve done more than my fair share.

I haven’t been a great man. I’m still not, as far as I know.

My life has been defined by trauma – not real trauma. I was never beaten or raped or witnessed a horrible crime. I have PTSD from bad employers, but who doesn’t?

My trauma seems inconsequential; it’s not warzone PTSD or survivor’s guilt.

It’s knowing that every day, things get worse. Brain beaten, bit by bit, until my brain feels like a hockey enforcer with CTE, even if it might not look that way.

But it’s all excuses, or so I’m told. Avoidance. I should feel guiltier, they tell me. I should feel the weight of two thousand years of straight white male oppression.

And I do.

I don’t know how I stand it.

I don’t know how anyone stands it. I sit at the bottom of this world, like Atlas without the muscles, squished, guts oozing out my sides, eyes literally popping out of my skull like a sausage being run over by a Mack Truck.

And yet, somehow, still alive.

I feel it. I feel it all.

I feel the world’s pain, its anger, its suffering.

And I’m not sure how much longer I can stand. 

Target: 1300 words
Written: 2287 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: World Of Ptavvs, Larry Niven
Comics: Tomb Raider Journeys 5-6, Tomb Raider 23-24
Music: Weezer (White Album), Weezer

end of august

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All-fucking-ready?

Jesus H. Jehosophat.

Is that how you spell that?

Is that the same guy?

I thought he was jumpin’.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1050 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: World Of Ptavvs, Larry Niven
Comics: Tomb Raider Journeys 3-4, Tomb Raider 21-22
Music: Weezer (Red Album), Weezer (what don't I love about these guys)