YTMND – Froggy went a courtin he did ride c-c-c-c-crambone, from Mild Bill, after a Thanksgiving conversation brought this character to the table.

13 is a good place to stop I think. If I have inspiration some time, I may continue. Right now, I am sick as a dog, though, and my brain really just does not want to work.

I finished my show and I am working on editing the DVD for Beauty and the Beast. Does anyone have experience editing multiple cameras in Final Cut Pro? I could use a headstart. I am meant to deliver a product after the holidays. Help!

Some people see marriage as a sign of maturity, and my resistance to it as a neurosis which I have not yet overcome, rooted in Peter Pan fantasy and well-grounded fear from seeing so many important relationships in my life fail at marriage.

I do not see it this way, though that evidence is valid. Instead, I see marriage as a gesture of relent to societal and media pressure, another capitulation to a flawed system.

You’re damn right I don’t want to grow up. Grown-ups give up on their dreams. Grown-ups put aside their sense of self in order to make life easier on themselves, often times pressuring their children to become the thing they failed to realize in a surreptitious form of eugenics.

I may very well be a sociopath. I may be megalomaniacal, beacuse I demand that the world take notice of me. My name will be on people’s lips when I am gone; people will rush to be the first to know more about my life.

Clare and I have discussed how we have low self-esteem, yet are elitist, even snobby. We feel we are entitled by our intellects to something greater than the “common man,” yet we feel obligated to act humbly. We are infuriated and somehow made impotent by those who feel entitled to more by the simple fact that they are alive.

I don’t really know how to end this, but it has been on my mind for a while, as I found this as a saved draft in my WordPress system. And identity is still a struggle for me, as I imagine it is for other people. I think I will try and publish my other drafts today, as well.

From Jed comes this folk classic.

YTMND – Poor Hamster!

… but at least I am writing again. I think my prose has always been stronger than my poetry, but both need the exercise. This feels inspired by American Psycho, but it really just came out of nothing.

—

You wake up because your head has a heartbeat. The throbbing gives you unnatural awareness at this hour. Dawn. And last night was only moments ago. On the floor of her dingy hotel room, you find needles and other remnants of illicit drugs. And her body, used up like the condoms that have become throw rugs across the rust-colored carpet.

You cough twice, a burn in your throat sharpens you again. You prowl the room, a pomade jaguar, silent and filled with purpose. They will never know you were here.

Her purse is empty, its contents splayed like an autopsy across the grimy bathroom counter. There. A gaudy cell phone strangled by a stray hair. You nearly gag as you pinch the hair between your fingers and flush it. The phone goes into your pocket.

Beore you step out into the quiet hallway, you remove your shoes and carry them. Your feet are cold on the stone back stairs. The shoes go into the incinerator. For a moment, you can smell her blood burn from your soles and the familiar urges surface. But now is a shower. Now you need to go to your job.

Make yourself aware of the facets of this piece (and I use that term in several senses): the substitution of “ur” for “your” seemingly to save typographical real estate, or to connect to the hip IM-blogosphere, or both; the arcane SUTD acronym that therefore arises; the creation of a vaguely Pixar-like cyclops with some sort of omniscience regarding your destiny; the choice of spooky Harry Potter Halloween-Orange font mixed with web 2.0 bubbles for the call to action; and lastly, the subtle “subscription required” disclaimer beneath the headline.

The question remains: What is the appeal of ads like these? Spiritual? Morbid curiosity? A love of clicking?

Who is it that will accept the mandatory subscription scenario in order to receive oracular tidings from a knock-off monster … on the internet? I imagine that this might appeal to pre-internet soothsayers, but in the information age, this loses its relevance, I am afraid.

Right now, my reputation is soiled. The reputation of a thousand years is determined in a single moment.

Right now, I am being judged for my faith in another person. Beware of how you take away hope from any human being.

Right now, people want more from me than I am able or willing to give. The Master can keep giving because there is no end to her wealth. She acts without expectation, succeeds without taking credit, and doesn’t think that she is better than anyone else.

Right now, there is nothing I can do but push forward. If you’re going through hell, keep going.

EDIT: This is not so dire as it might sound. It is more of a conversation between my two selves.

EDIT, part 2: The concern of my friends is very kind, but really I am fine. Sorry to alarm anyone.

“The best thing about writing fiction is that moment where the story catches fire and comes to life on the page, and suddenly it all makes sense and you know what it’s about and why you’re doing it and what these people are saying and doing, and you get to feel like both the creator and the audience. Everything is suddenly both obvious and surprising (“but of course that’s why he was doing that, and that means that…”) and it’s magic and wonderful and strange.

You don’t live there always when you write. Mostly it’s a long hard walk. Sometimes it’s a trudge through fog and you’re scared you’ve lost your way and can’t remember why you set out in the first place.

But sometimes you fly, and that pays for everything.”

(from Neil Gaiman’s blog, which I am too lazy to re-link here. It’s over there on the right somewhere.)

A couple of articles by people who like PCs more than Macs.

The last line of this article (with a somewhat inflammatory title) is fantastic.
The Worst Thing about Macs: Apple Rules, or Else.

Exponential talks about her experiences.

A nice little bit of IM fun from my day:

Most-Honoured Girlfriend: i got apples, pears, grapes and meat & cheese for sandwiches
Most-Honoured Girlfriend: (and mike & cereal)
Steelbuddha: You got Mike?
Steelbuddha: At the store?
Most-Honoured Girlfriend: yes, in the dairy csae
Steelbuddha: Weird. What do you suppose he was doing there?
Most-Honoured Girlfriend: he was chillin’
Steelbuddha: High-five, Rick!