This is repeated here more for my own future reference than anything else. On the other hand I’ll share it with the Internet anyway. Enjoy.
“Creating a life that reflects your values and satisfies your soul is a rare achievement. In a culture that relentlessly promotes avarice and excess as the good life, a person happy doing his own work is usually considered an eccentric, if not a subversive. Ambition is only understood if it’s to rise to the top of some imaginary ladder of success. Someone who takes an undemanding job because it affords him the time to pursue other interests and activities is considered a flake. A person who abandons a career in order to stay home and raise children is considered not to be living up to his potential—as if a job title and salary are the sole measure of human worth. You’ll be told in a hundred ways, some subtle and some not, to keep climbing, and never be satisfied with where you are, who you are, and what you’re doing. There are a million ways to sell yourself out, and I guarantee you’ll hear about them.” — Bill Watterson
I’m pleased that one of my reasons for my continued sanity—whatever remains of it in its disfigured form—has returned with new content. In this instance, I’m referring to Real Time with Bill Maher.
Several wonderful things transpired during Friday’s episode that were notable. Amongst them is Seth MacFarlane’s near-perfect Shatner-esque delivery of a speech regarding war, nearly ripped word-for-word from the original Star Trek episode, “A Taste of Armageddon.”
(Thanks to TrekMovie.com for posting an article with the YouTube embed!)
A second item was Seth MacFarlane’s response to Sarah Palin’s fake outrage where she pretends to be a defender for those affected by Down Syndrome. The YouTube embed is disabled, but I shall offer this link. Clicky, clicky. (MacFarlane’s comments are segued by Real Time‘s skit on what various celebrities have written on the palm of their hand, Palin-style.)
Now, I did see the Family Guy episode in question, and I found nothing in it that made fun of anyone with Down Syndrome—including Pailn’s son, Trig. Now, I’m not a heartless bastard, although at times I may come off as one, as I feel sorry for Trig. I feel sorry that Trig received the short straw and ended up not only with Down Syndrome, but with an idiot like Sarah Palin as a mother.
Trig’s just fucked—and it has nothing to do with MacFarlane or his cartoon.
If anything, this whole thing reminds me how fortunate I am to be surrounded by people who actually like me for who I am—in that regard, I am far better off than I was more than a year ago—and that I have my health.
Regardless, this fake outrage is just another attempt by the Alaskan Drama Queen to gain attention to herself and her laughable political ambitions. Sad, really. What’s even sad is that people still talk about Sarah Palin, as if she’s the new face of the Republican party.
So, to my fellow Americans who believe themselves Republicans, I state the following: When the late Republican president Abraham Lincoln spoke of being able to “fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time,” Lincoln did not refer to parading around the imbecile who effectively euthanized McCain’s campaign. (Not that this is the first time that Republicans tried to kill a McCain presidential ticket… during their previous attempt, they trotted out a metal deficient who masqueraded as a Texan and Governor Bush assumed the White House.) However, being the RINOs that the present Republican Party now are, I’ll give them credit for borrowing from former Republicans. It would be embarrassing if they borrowed inspiration from Stalin and the SOP from Gulags.
Then there’s also this, which gave me a laugh, because it will never come to pass.
Obama is a weak-willed, inexperienced pissant who, I believe, will be remembered as the Jimmy Carter of the new millennium. I want to feel sorry for Obama, since he did walk into a pile of shit not of his own making, but he’s simply either impotent or incompetent. He took the job knowing the risks, and ergo I can’t feel any empathy for him, for empathy isn’t going to fix a fucking thing. Decisive action is, even if it is unpopular.
A majority of Obama’s initiatives—like a public option for health care—are now pretty much dead (leading me to question if they ever really had life at all) and, sadly, the economy is only getting weaker… so Obama’s battles have already been lost before they were waged. This being the case, Obama should throw out any of his attempts to be bi-partisan and become a dick. Since Cheney is all but bragging about torturing human beings—lest we forget that, for better or for worse, these people are human—Obama should really piss off the Repugnantcans and string Cheney by his pubes for war crimes. Hey, they did call their actions integral parts of the “war on terror,” after all. Ergo, it is a war crime!
What is the worst that can happen? Impeachment proceedings? And even impeachment, in and of itself, isn’t going to get Obama jettisoned from the presidency. So… he’s already lost everything, and he should just go down fighting, like any honorable bloke would do.
It’ll never happen of course, but one can always dream. Aside from hope, dreams are the only thing that a majority of Americans really have left at this point.
And on a slightly lighter ancillary subject, the only downfall from Friday’s Real Time program was this: the discussion of the Kevin Smith’s issue with Southwest Airlines by discussing the erroneous story as if it were fact. I’ve never liked Southwest Airlines anyway, as their customer service blows chunks… and Kevin Smith’s issue wasn’t with his weight, but with how he was treated and how Southwest continues to cover up their employees’s errors with piles of steamin’ lies.
So, if Bill wants to apologize for not going with all the facts, he’ll probably do it live next week.
Sort of broke my consistency with the blogging thing. Not all right by me, but here’s a summary of what has passed:
1. Pasta Dinner Benefit
Ticket to the benefit.
I attended a spaghetti dinner last Friday for Noah McClain, a two year old boy who was diagnosed with Guillian Barre Syndrome and Cerebral Palsy. The dinner was held by the American Legion post that my grandmother belongs to, and so I went to the dinner with my parents and grandmother. What makes Noah’s predicament even more harrowing is the fact that his father lost his job (and with it insurance benefits) just a few days after finding out about his son’s condition, and so the McClain family needs help paying for Noah’s medical expenses.
As a member of the Legion—for McClain’s father served in our military—the fine folks at the Legion organized this event. I’m not sure how much they managed to raise, but given the high turnout, I wouldn’t be surprised if they raised a good deal of money to help!
At the dinner, I was also pleased to interface with some members of the community. One of them was a one of my father’s present clients who praised me on the work I did on the virtual tour of their home, so that certainly made my night.
2. Spending Time with Friends
In the vein of spending time with friends, I’ve been participating in weekly trivia events at the local Hurricane’s Bar and Grill. That is until the owner there canceled it for affecting “season business.” Now, I’m not sure what kind of “seasonal business” two hours on a Monday night is affecting, because Monday is typically the lowest turn-out for sports bars. So… I’m not sure what we’re doing on Monday nights, other than hanging with my friends watching Chuck.
I also attended my friend Andrea’s birthday, from which I was called away from just as we were going to eat cake because my brother needed help prior to his trip up to Tallahassee. None-the-less, good times were had.
3. Staying Positive
I’ve been pretty positive and centered so far this month, which is great. I’m honestly getting to spend more time with myself again, which will be a good thing as once I start up school again in the next few months, I doubt I will.
Between that and a few reality checks, I believe that I’m on the right path.
Which reminds me… I have a poem attached to a wall in my room, right next to the door. Somehow, despite the fact that I walk past it on a daily basis, I haven’t gone back and read it until just recently. It’s just… been there.
I was given this poem by one of the adult aides at a community center where I volunteered my time at during my middle school years, and I had it laminated. It’s been with me for the past decade, and I want to share it with all of you, since I take it quite to whatever heart I have remaining.
The following Family Guy clip resonates with me. This scares me when I think about it.
Since this is Sunday and, like the Head Cheese upstairs, I should rest on the seventh day; I figure that this should be fun and less thought-provoking than my previous posts. Ergo, this clip in question.
(For those of you readin’ through Facebook, click here for the clip.)
And, no, I do not care who won at the Globes. I do not care for 24. And I do not care for green eggs—but I do care for ham.
I’m writing to tell a story that few people will probably ever read. It’s all right. I probably won’t really remember all the details in the few years myself, which is why I’m writing it down while the details are reasonably fresh in my memory. Here goes. More to read…
Typically, I am immune to stores going out of business. Although it typically means that people have lost their jobs and are likely find themselves on the prowl for other jobs, I understand that it is the nature of capitalism that businesses rise and fail. (And true capitalism doesn’t mean the government gets to bail your ass out either, but I shan’t pursue the point as that will take me considerably off tangent.)
Upon returning to Florida in the spring, I visited the Indian River Mall to find that the Starbucks—itself having been, in a previous life, a Barnie’s Coffee and Tea—near the food court was closed down. The signs on the outside had been removed, and you could tell it had been a Starbuck’s by the configuration of the holes and subtle lines that the signs left behind. Even through the dark windows, you could see the empty room and the naked counter. That was a bit sad, although there was a Starbuck’s right on the road in front of the Indian River Plaza, which was a good 10 minute or so walk from the mall. Not a total loss. Not as much as the next store I noticed.
In December (and into January), I saw these depressing signs that were inside the Vero Beach Waldenbooks:
Sunuvabitch...
This does hurt me a bit on a personal level because of my love of the printed word. I grew up on having a Waldenbooks in the mall I could go to.
While it wasn’t this specific one, I grew up with the one in my hometown of Manchester, Connecticut. I went there a few times a month as a tyke, brought there by my mother and grandmother. I would always walk into that store with some of my chore money (my father paid me a “wage” of $1/hr), pick up a science fiction book I wanted to add to my collection (either Star Trek, Star Wars or a comic) and walk out with a small, plastic white bag with “Waldenbooks” on each side.
I also met a few authors at my Manchester Waldenbooks—yes, I used that possessive adjective, deal with it. I remember getting my copy of Robert Greenberger‘s book, The Romulan Strategem, signed by Mr. Greenberger all those years ago.
It’s not that I’m not able to get my books elsewhere. I can. There’s a Books-A-Million in the small plaza to the east of the Indian River Plaza, next to the Publix. It has a bigger selection of books. It has its own little Joe’s Coffee shop. (Yes, it’s named Joe’s Coffee. Clearly, no relation.)
I could also go to the library, which I have thus far neglected doing since my return to Florida, but there’s something about owning a good book and having it on your bookshelf that is immensely satisfying. More than some trophy or worthless paper award to be placed on some wall.
And if I wanted to go the online route, I can go to Amazon and buy it there without paying sales taxes. But there’s something to be said about seeing a book on the shelf with portals to all those worlds. Worlds that groups of people took the time and energy under the exacting toll of immeasurable frustration to create and get published. There’s a process there that most people don’t realize. I’m all too familiar with getting something published, as I’ve been responsible for the creation of two books. All that pain and suffering that went into it, all the long hours of writing and revising… Most people give up.
However, I’m flying off on another tangent there, so let me regain some semblance of control.
You can buy your stuff online, and I’ve done that with DVD and CDs, as well as the occasional book. With books, I find that I enjoy the tactile sensation, to feel the weight of the book, to feel the edges of the pages as I flip through them. Then there’s the rich aroma of the paper that wafts from the pages and fills your nostrils, if you let it. It’s a wonderful smell and while the new books have that “book aroma,” I find that older books that are well kept have a richer smell… like aged wine tastes versus newer vintages.
There’s also the fact that you get to physically meet people in a bookstore and, perhaps, strike up a conversation with them. We can say that we have message boards, blogs, and other “social media” outlets, but there’s nothing that can replace our need for physical contact, even if it is a chat. You can’t mirror truthful facial expressions in emoticons, or hear someone’s laugh, or hear someone sigh over troubling content in a book… You justcan’t.
And so I find myself melancholy at the prospect of a bookstore closing down, even if it is part of a chain. It saddens me because it reflects the economic woes of our times, as well as the inevitable change where more and more people flock to the internet for whatever tickles their fancy. It is yet another reminder that our technology and our lust for better/faster/stronger change has outpaced our hearts and the potential worthwhile abilities of the human race.
Today’s blog post was to cover my thoughts on the closing of a local bookstore. Those thoughts shall be relegated for a post tomorrow, a post that will already be written sometime shortly after I’ve posted this one.
So let’s begin. I awoke this morning to find that a core theme of mine manifested itself. I’ll give you five cubits to figure out which theme it is.
One was in the form of a private message from the Quorum, The Colonial Fleet‘s message board; I received a message from one of the kind prop replica makers there, who went out of his way to thank me for creating the Battlestar Wiki. It made my morning when I read it, if only because it is a testament to a resource that I and many, many people worked on over the past five years to create and maintain.
The second was the discovery of a very interesting fact. It is a fact that was revealed when I posted yesterday’s blog about the Battlestar schwag—Dr. Kevin Grazier was never given a copy of the Battlestar Galactica Cast & Crew Yearbook.
It is a discovery that disturbs me a bit, seeing as I had received one with thanks to my friends at NBC Universal, Propworx, and the former Battlestar production office in Vancouver. When I received my copy, I had been informed of the following: it was one of the last copies up in Vancouver not given to anyone, and that everyone who worked on the series received one. Given this information, I’m a bit distressed to just find out more than a year later that Kevin seems to have been overlooked. Honestly, my involvement on Battlestar is not to the extent of Kevin’s and, let’s be honest, he had far more to do with shaping the show than I (or anyone connected to the Wiki, really) ever did.
So before I received a copy, Kevin should have received one. That would have been logical, fair, and… look, the human factor throws all that out the airlock. Whoosh!
I’m not blaming anyone for this oversight, because these things do happen. However, since we know that the issue is present and I feel that it should be corrected, I’m going to at least open my mouth about it—if only in the hope of the right person at the right place, and at right time, becoming aware of this and having the power to fix it.
So, for those of you who read this and have any worthwhile connections at NBC Universal, please make it so that a book ships to Dr. Kevin. There might be an extra one lying around somewhere. Also, if someone is thinking of selling their copy, please strongly consider sending it to Kevin.
Let’s make this happen. Call it a late Christmas present, if you’d like. So say we all.
The end of 2009 is almost upon us and I am pleased at this fact. I normally do not look upon the change of years as a means to change oneself, as one with the power to do so can change themselves at a time of their choosing.
However, I find that the notion about compartmentalizing events between “last year” and “this coming year” is cathartic. Once the act is done, it is truly like releasing the shackles, blinders, and weights from one’s body. As I write this, I feel a sense of exhilaration that I have not felt in a very long time; I’m ready for the metamorphosis.
Ergo, I’m not going to reminisce about 2009, aside from these next paragraphs: it was a very interesting year for me, and it was within that crucible where I learned more about myself than I had ever believed possible. There are times where I feel that every part of my mind and body has gone through a kind of hell, seeing as half of it was self-inflicted and the other half inflicted by life. I’ve seen loved ones pass away (both human and animal), I’ve trusted people who were unworthy of my trust, I’ve rubbed shoulders with some of the people responsible for some of my favorite shows, and I’ve been more than sufficiently humiliated and disgusted enough where I contemplated just cutting myself off from the rest of the world.
Of course, there are going to be bright spots in all of this. With the friends I’ve come to know over the past year, and the relationships that have been established have remained beneficial—despite the metamorphosis of their nature—I’ve worked through many of the missteps and issues that have been thrust before me. Some of these, again, I’ve summoned unto myself because of my decisions. I’m not detailing them here on the public blog because, well, I’ll leave that for a story. Or a series of stories. I could write a book. I even may. It would be a comedy where the geeky savant is condignly flummoxed and besieged by faux love, overwork, played like than the best kept violin and subjected to dramas that are better experienced from an outsider’s perspective.
So, in working through many of these things, I’ve set up these goals for 2010 that I believe to be obtainable. I’m listing them here in order of their present importance. Feel free to laugh, as I cannot stop you from doing so, and accept this fact.
Get my stories published
Yes, I write. I’m unsure as to whether or not you should note this as a development, simply because everybody claims to be creative, but are typically inept at being creative. I feel that this claim needs to be elaborated on further, but not here. Later. Fodder for the future.
Other than e-mails, text messages, tweets, and the now-occasional entry on a Wiki (mainly Battlestar Wiki), I typically write short stories and I’ve plotted out a few novel-length stories back in the day. I feel that this is as good as time as any to start doing this again. I’m hitting short-story publishers as early as next week. And if that doesn’t pan out, I may just hire my own copy-editor and self-publish an anthology.
For those of you curious as to what I write, it is placed under the genre called “speculative fiction.” It’s not hard science fiction, as the science necessary for the genre isn’t my strongest point, and it’s not really “soft” science fiction either. The settings change as they can be present day, the far off future, alternate realities (and, honestly, all stories are some form of alternate reality), and the characters: a young boy who is an assassin, disgruntled explorers, a kamikaze writer, people stuck at a crossroads, a father looking for his daughter, and other fine samplings of humanity.
This isn’t to say that I’m not published, because I technically am, thanks to those wonderful Battlestar Galactica auction catalogs. I don’t receive royalties from the books, but you can buy them through Propworx.
I’ve also written a few comic books for White Eye Productions, a company that my friend Lawrence is working to get off the ground. Hopefully, it launches this year and that stuff sees the light of the day.
Establish my own business
Actually, I’ve started this process. It was official back in November. I started a company called FrakMedia! Productions, LLC. It is a web-design and Internet media company that’s already lined up a list of clients. It’s co-founded by my business partner, Shane Froebel, who I befriended as a result of Battlestar Wiki.
After the first of the year, I’m opening up a business bank account for it. Presently, Shane and I are finishing off the website, and between Shane’s expertise in programming and my expertise in getting things off the ground, I feel pretty good about it. Hopefully, I can turn this into a full-time gig so I don’t have to work three jobs. Whether this is accomplished remains to be seen.
Finish college
I left college a few years ago simply because I didn’t know what to do with my life. I had a crisis of faith. I was lost. I was working as a full-time supervisor at Best Buy, with the intent on becoming a manager and eventually getting relocated to somewhere other than Vero Beach. That didn’t happen… well, not in the way I had envisioned. I did relocate the year following my departure from Best Buy, to the other side of the coast, thanks to Battlestar Wiki.
I’m going to talk to the folks at the colleges sometime over the next month to see what I can do for financial assistance, and have a roadmap for getting my degree in Computer Science.
Unwind some more
I’m getting back into the grove with the XBox 360, reading and so forth. I’d like to play more games, if only to keep myself sufficiently sharp and somewhat within the “geek” spectrum of things. Makes for better conversation topics, if anything.
Right now, I’ve begun Dragon Age, since it is from BioWare and I am a fan of their work, having played both Knights of the Old Republic games on the original XBox. (I have not played Mass Effect yet, but do intend on picking that up somewhere.)
Open up more
I’m reserved. I’m acutely aware of this. It’s a double-edged sword that causes problems in some of my relationships. I’m much better at conversing with folks than I used to be, but this is an area of opportunity I need to continually build upon. Most of this shyness comes from the fact that my nose was always in a book and I was accosted for being different back in my youth. I was always outcast and I never really understood why, until I realized that it was because of my intelligence and the fact that I liked things that weren’t “cool,” like science fiction and reading. This contrasted unkindly to other blokes who decided to wave their cocks around playing sports and phoning in their academic performance.
Not that I have anything against athletic endeavors, except that I find something very wrong with society when intelligence is scorned by those who would rather make sports the subject of their attentions. It is a subject that disturbs me and is the source of resentment that’s reverberated back into the time of my childhood.
Having said that, part of that process will be to work on this blog, and outline all the good, the bad and, perhaps, even the heinous that comes from the new year.
And with that…
I hope that everyone worthy of having a great and prosperous new year will have one.
It’s twelve days until I head up to Atlanta, GA for my first ever Dragon*Con. Yes, that’s right, I’m a con virgin. I have no problem admitting that.
All right, all right… In the interests of clarity and factual information, I have gone to cons before. As a young boy, I went to one of those Creation Cons with my mother and grandmother. I can’t remember when this was, or where it was (I am going to assume it was somewhere in Hartford, CT), and it wasn’t a memorable experience for me. All that I can recall is that Robin Curtis (Saavvik from Star Trek III: The Search for a Quick Buck) was a guest there and that just about every piece of Star Trek “memorabilia” was massively overpriced. With regard to the latter, not much has changed in the past decade-and-a-half—barring, of course, monetary changes due to inflation.
Consistency is key, I say.
Ah, yes, now that I’ve disclosed that worthless information, you may now file that under “why did I waste my time reading that for?”
In any event, the reason I’m going to this thing is to see what it is all about. That, and the fact that I’m going out there to hang with friends and meet people who I’ve talked to for years online and on the phone, but never in person.
That’s the only reason I’m going to this thing. Otherwise, I have to say that Dragon*Con has no other appeal to me. People prancing around in costumes from television shows, movies, and the like has no real appeal to me on a geek level. Actually, I find the whole thing rather bleh, although some people are most certainly creative! And I don’t have anything against anyone who partakes in cosplay. It’s just not something I feel I want to participate in.
Then again, I haven’t tried it either. Last time I tried dressing up was for a Halloween party, and that was at Best Buy back in 2006, when I dressed up as Randal Graves from Clerks II and put “Merch Monkey 4 Life” on the back of my Mooby’s shirt. Yes, I have a Mooby’s shirt. It’s an actual, honest-to-goodness piece of merchandise I bought more than 3 years ago. It’s still good. I even have the nametag, and a hat. Not the yellow visor hat, but one with the cow.
Oh, and for those of you wondering: there were pictures of me with that shirt taken, but I don’t have any of them.
I will have that shirt at Dragon*Con. And I just realize that this makes me out to be a hypocrite. While the whole dress-up shtick has little appeal to me, who am I to be a kill-joy bastard and not join in? Therefore, I have come up with two costumes.
One, as you might have already surmised, is a costume of a Mooby’s worker. Someone has to represent those fictitious fast-food minions. Since I don’t know of anyone else doing this, I might as well take the lead.
The second, coolest costume is something that is relatively cost effective and from one of my favorite love-it-and-hate-it science fiction series of all time, Jump the Battleshark Galacticrap. In the, finale of this blockbuster skiffy series, a cameo appearance by its creator, Ron D. Moore, graces the final few minutes of the show’s finale. I won’t spoil it for you, but apparently nothing experienced by the intrepid, rag-tag members of the Fleet meant not one a damn thing, since “God (who doesn’t like that name) did it all.”
As you can see below, here is the schmuck I’m going as.
Schmuck I'm going as hovered over by a blonde and a stoner wearing sunglasses, as seen in "Logicbreak, Part Deuce."
I’ve already ordered old back issues of National Geographic from eBay (what would you do without eBay, really?)Â and located a similar shirt that will work. Best part is that, not including the wig, I’ve spent only $20 on the costume. I have a dark gray undreshirt, I have a silver chain, I’m growing a crappy beard, and I have some denim pants, so I’m already covered there.
There is no sense in writing what I think about my own personal philosophy on life when Harlan Ellison, one of the greatest writers in American history, summarized his philosophy as thus:
“My philosophy of life is that the meek shall inherit nothing but debasement, frustration and ignoble deaths; that there is security in personal strength; that you CAN fight City Hall and WIN; that any action is better than no action, even if it’s the wrong action; that you never reach glory or self-fulfillment unless you’re willing to risk everything, dare anything, put yourself dead on the line every time; and that once one becomes strong or rich or potent or powerful it is the responsibility of the strong to help the weak BECOME strong.” — The Harlan Ellison Hornbook, Aug. 9, 1973
And with that in mind, here’s a clip from one of my favorite movies that sums up my feelings on life, as they presently are:
TwitRSS
