Thursday, May 23, 2013
Melancholy
(An old piano composition from 2002ish... recorded on a crappy mic and with some kind of phaser/flanger effect added, I can't remember.)
Tuning In Halfway Through A Political Speech
(Another brief snippet from 2008 or 2009.)
CANDIDATE: (in a rich southern dialect reminiscent of Foghorn Leghorn) -and we must continue our active, carefully targeted, demographically backed, effort to eradicate the poor. Now, for our upper-class listeners who may be alarmed at the broadness of that statement, let me clarify - I'm not talking about the eradication of po-ver-ty, which, as we know is a useful tool in ensuring the maintenance of the status quo - and a good way to frighten your children through college - No, we must maintain the abstract concept of PO-VER-TY, while eliminating the POOR - as I said, with the continued implementation of strategies of planned neglect - adequate underfunding of education, of health care, of all those things American families count on to become more unattainable with each passing year, and at the same time PROACTIVELY failing to plan for upcoming crises in Social Security, Medicare, and the environment... By spending irresponsibly, and wastefully, on wars of bloody, distracting, injustice - on political spin campaigns, the denunciation of activist judges, and all the projects deemed important to the bottom lines of the corporations, represented by the lobbies which represent - SO much - of the ECONOMY - that this great country stands for. As a Christian nation, we must remember, Jesus said, "There will always be poor among you." Well, with your vote, and your support - together - we can make a whole lot less of them. Thank you, and God bless.
CANDIDATE: (in a rich southern dialect reminiscent of Foghorn Leghorn) -and we must continue our active, carefully targeted, demographically backed, effort to eradicate the poor. Now, for our upper-class listeners who may be alarmed at the broadness of that statement, let me clarify - I'm not talking about the eradication of po-ver-ty, which, as we know is a useful tool in ensuring the maintenance of the status quo - and a good way to frighten your children through college - No, we must maintain the abstract concept of PO-VER-TY, while eliminating the POOR - as I said, with the continued implementation of strategies of planned neglect - adequate underfunding of education, of health care, of all those things American families count on to become more unattainable with each passing year, and at the same time PROACTIVELY failing to plan for upcoming crises in Social Security, Medicare, and the environment... By spending irresponsibly, and wastefully, on wars of bloody, distracting, injustice - on political spin campaigns, the denunciation of activist judges, and all the projects deemed important to the bottom lines of the corporations, represented by the lobbies which represent - SO much - of the ECONOMY - that this great country stands for. As a Christian nation, we must remember, Jesus said, "There will always be poor among you." Well, with your vote, and your support - together - we can make a whole lot less of them. Thank you, and God bless.
The Mammogram
(Written in mid-2008)
(SCENE: generic commercial)
NARRATOR: (overly enthusiastic) Not enough space in your body cavity? Tired of hooking and unhooking things every time you want to plug in an extra pancreas? Just want to rearrange in there? Then try our new line of external organ carriers - take the organs you want with you, in whatever you want to take them in - from functional airtight plastic spleen totes to stylish executive leather brain satchels. And for all those surplus organs, stop letting them lie around cluttering the closet - get organized and get in control with the modular in-closet stacking organ bin system! Available now in stores, and at tupperware parties!
(SCENE: the exterior of a hotel. BUSINESSMAN is walking toward the hotel, wheeling a travel organ case and talking on his cell phone.)
BUSINESSMAN: Yeah, I just got in - no, I - yes, it was fine - well, I'm going to go up to my room and unpack everything - hope I remembered the important glands. Then I'm going down to the conference, where I'm gonna check my liver - no, I won't lose the claim ticket again - oh, you packed a spare? -check my liver, as I say, and then get shitfaced, and try and pay one of the waitresses for sex. It's just business, darling, I - you did WHAT with my balls?
(BUSINESSMAN enters the hotel as MR. ZANE and MRS. ZANE, each carrying a large suitcase, come into view. They focus on a cardboard sign which reads "Clinic in Alley" and trudge into the alley to the side of the hotel. In the alley, MRS. ZANE continues out of sight and MR. ZANE stops in front of a lecherous looking homeless man sitting behind a cheap folding table, another cardboard sign taped to it reading "Free Mammograms".)
MR. ZANE: Hello, I'd like a mammogram, please.
(SCENE: generic commercial)
NARRATOR: (overly enthusiastic) Not enough space in your body cavity? Tired of hooking and unhooking things every time you want to plug in an extra pancreas? Just want to rearrange in there? Then try our new line of external organ carriers - take the organs you want with you, in whatever you want to take them in - from functional airtight plastic spleen totes to stylish executive leather brain satchels. And for all those surplus organs, stop letting them lie around cluttering the closet - get organized and get in control with the modular in-closet stacking organ bin system! Available now in stores, and at tupperware parties!
(SCENE: the exterior of a hotel. BUSINESSMAN is walking toward the hotel, wheeling a travel organ case and talking on his cell phone.)
BUSINESSMAN: Yeah, I just got in - no, I - yes, it was fine - well, I'm going to go up to my room and unpack everything - hope I remembered the important glands. Then I'm going down to the conference, where I'm gonna check my liver - no, I won't lose the claim ticket again - oh, you packed a spare? -check my liver, as I say, and then get shitfaced, and try and pay one of the waitresses for sex. It's just business, darling, I - you did WHAT with my balls?
(BUSINESSMAN enters the hotel as MR. ZANE and MRS. ZANE, each carrying a large suitcase, come into view. They focus on a cardboard sign which reads "Clinic in Alley" and trudge into the alley to the side of the hotel. In the alley, MRS. ZANE continues out of sight and MR. ZANE stops in front of a lecherous looking homeless man sitting behind a cheap folding table, another cardboard sign taped to it reading "Free Mammograms".)
MR. ZANE: Hello, I'd like a mammogram, please.
"Introducing..."
"She was born the son of an Episcopalian and a reformed property appraiser - in her all-too-brief childhood, she established herself as one of the world's premiere breeders and trainers of Tibetan monks. After a 30-year career, she took up the piccolo in junior high and became the front man for the neo-punk, neo-classicist, neonatal band "Televangelist Babies", releasing several highly-acclaimed, rarely-listened-to, albums. When the Babies' contract was not renewed, and the diapers began to chafe, she took a dual degree in human anatomy and robotics from MIT and went on, with $85 million dollars in private and government funding, to develop the world's best selling line of aromatherapy tea cosies. Her work can be seen from space, her name is the top result on google when you search for "amputee fetish sex porn eggs benedict recipe" - she has single-handedly reduced the number of orphans in third-world countries, while at the same time providing great-tasting, reasonably priced, fast-food dining options for citizens of the midwest, with 170 franchised outlets, including one in the famous Topeka Regional Airport. Ladies and gentlemen, no welcome could be more severe, more understated, more blisteringly appropriate than the one with which I encourage you to pummel tonight's guest - so please, with as much venom and displaced hostility as your little hands can muster, a round of applause for Gwendolyn Muffpoppett!"
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
An Illustrated Limerick
(Written, drawn, and colorized in early August 2010. Original line drawing after the jump.)
As a habit, on his nightly walk
The deviant from down the block
Likes to strip in my yard,
Whereupon he gets hard
And makes love to a crusty old sock.
Jesus Stole My Baby
(First-take recording of ANOTHER song I wrote a couple months ago. Lyrics after the jump.)
Sub-Prime Lending Crisis
(Written in mid 2008)
CAST:
LARRY EMERSON - a middle-class American Dad, 30s or 40s
SUE EMERSON - a middle-class American Mom, 30s or 40s
JAKE EMERSON - a middle-class American Boy, child-aged
EMILY EMERSON - a middle-class American Girl, slightly-younger-child-aged
OFFICIAL - a government official, regulation-issue, gray with manila accents
NARRATOR - male, documentary-style voice
ANGRY MAN - middle-aged or elderly, an uneducated Southerner
HUSBAND - generic Husband in his 20s or early 30s
WIFE - generic Wife, slightly younger than generic Husband
FATHER - In his 30s or 40s
MOVERS - a couple of non-speaking, strapping young men who will be moving various pieces of office furniture into the EMERSONS living room
AT OPEN:
CAST:
LARRY EMERSON - a middle-class American Dad, 30s or 40s
SUE EMERSON - a middle-class American Mom, 30s or 40s
JAKE EMERSON - a middle-class American Boy, child-aged
EMILY EMERSON - a middle-class American Girl, slightly-younger-child-aged
OFFICIAL - a government official, regulation-issue, gray with manila accents
NARRATOR - male, documentary-style voice
ANGRY MAN - middle-aged or elderly, an uneducated Southerner
HUSBAND - generic Husband in his 20s or early 30s
WIFE - generic Wife, slightly younger than generic Husband
FATHER - In his 30s or 40s
MOVERS - a couple of non-speaking, strapping young men who will be moving various pieces of office furniture into the EMERSONS living room
AT OPEN:
(SCENE: a typical middle-class American household, family having dinner around the table. Dad, mom, and 2.5 children are enjoying each others company)
LARRY: Mm, this meatloaf is really delicious, Sue.
SUE: Thanks, honey. I'm glad you like it.
LARRY: Is there a secret ingredient?
SUE: (sweetly) No, it's just nature's bounty, bestowed on us by a globalized system of industrial scale food production and distribution - lots and lots of trucks, cheap labor, and antibiotics.
LARRY: Mm, this meatloaf is really delicious, Sue.
SUE: Thanks, honey. I'm glad you like it.
LARRY: Is there a secret ingredient?
SUE: (sweetly) No, it's just nature's bounty, bestowed on us by a globalized system of industrial scale food production and distribution - lots and lots of trucks, cheap labor, and antibiotics.
Restaurant Symbolism
(Written in mid-2008)
CAST:
BRIAN, a BRIAN - entirely male, in his 20s or 30s
RUDOLPHO, a WAITER/WAITRESS - male and female (not at the same time) in his/her 20s or 30s
KARL, a KARL - mostly male, in his 20s or 30s
AUNT NOREEN, an ELDERLY AUNT - derelict female in her 60s or 70s
MAN and WOMAN - one of each, dining with AUNT NOREEN, in their 30s or 40s
CHEF - in his 50s, preferably on the larger side
AT OPEN:
(scene is a cozy restaurant. BRIAN is seated at a side table, waiting patiently. RUDOLPHO approaches the table, refills BRIAN's water, and hovers expectantly.)
BRIAN: Yes, Rudolpho?
RUDOLPHO: Are you ready to order, sir Brian sir?
BRIAN: (slightly exasperated) No Rudolpho, for the thirty-fifth time since ten o'clock this morning, I'm meeting a friend here for lunch at noon.
RUDOLPHO: But sir, it is 8:47 PM! The restaurant will be closing soon! Maybe your friend is not coming?
BRIAN: (suddenly enraged) HE'LL BE HERE!!! (calmer) I'm sorry, Rudolpho - I didn't mean to shout... It's just - he's in a different time zone, so I've got jet lag.
RUDOLPHO: Of course, sir. Travel is exhausting.
CAST:
BRIAN, a BRIAN - entirely male, in his 20s or 30s
RUDOLPHO, a WAITER/WAITRESS - male and female (not at the same time) in his/her 20s or 30s
KARL, a KARL - mostly male, in his 20s or 30s
AUNT NOREEN, an ELDERLY AUNT - derelict female in her 60s or 70s
MAN and WOMAN - one of each, dining with AUNT NOREEN, in their 30s or 40s
CHEF - in his 50s, preferably on the larger side
AT OPEN:
(scene is a cozy restaurant. BRIAN is seated at a side table, waiting patiently. RUDOLPHO approaches the table, refills BRIAN's water, and hovers expectantly.)
BRIAN: Yes, Rudolpho?
RUDOLPHO: Are you ready to order, sir Brian sir?
BRIAN: (slightly exasperated) No Rudolpho, for the thirty-fifth time since ten o'clock this morning, I'm meeting a friend here for lunch at noon.
RUDOLPHO: But sir, it is 8:47 PM! The restaurant will be closing soon! Maybe your friend is not coming?
BRIAN: (suddenly enraged) HE'LL BE HERE!!! (calmer) I'm sorry, Rudolpho - I didn't mean to shout... It's just - he's in a different time zone, so I've got jet lag.
RUDOLPHO: Of course, sir. Travel is exhausting.
Monday, May 20, 2013
What's In The Box?
(Another older cartoon - drawn around 2007, colorized 7/11/09. Original line drawing after the jump.)
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Today
(Composed in the late 1990s on an ancient Mac with even older software. Also, a cheap keyboard.)
Monday, May 13, 2013
Pick a Door, Any Door
(May 20, 2010)
Characters:
DESK ATTENDANT: Dead common British accent - sardonic, lackadaisical, existentially bored, and generally contemptuous of and disgusted by pretty much everything and everyone.
ANDY: A recently deceased man.
EARL LINTMAN: A Christian televangelist, also recently deceased.
Setting:
A minimalistic modern lobby – a desk placed between two doors, ornately labeled as “HEAVEN” and “HELL”, a couple chairs, a couch, a bare coffee table.
A minimalistic modern lobby – a desk placed between two doors, ornately labeled as “HEAVEN” and “HELL”, a couple chairs, a couch, a bare coffee table.
At rise: The DESK ATTENDANT sits at the desk, obviously very bored, leafing through a tattered old magazine. ANDY enters, a bit confused, and stands in front of the attendant. He waits to be noticed, and is ostentatiously ignored. After a long pause, he clears his throat.
DESK ATTENDANT: (with a great sigh and the manner of someone being greatly inconvenienced) Can I help you?
ANDY: Well, yes – that is to say, I certainly hope so. I'm afraid I'm a bit confused.
DESK ATTENDANT: Yeah, it said that in the stage directions. What you confused about?
Succubists
(Drawing from 5/20/04)
I was initially going to call it "Cubist Hookers", but then I realized that "Succubists" was snappier.
I was initially going to call it "Cubist Hookers", but then I realized that "Succubists" was snappier.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Apocalypse
(A song from somewhere around 2003-2004ish, maybe, composed using '80s-era sequencing software on an equally dated old Mac, using a cheap General MIDI keyboard.)
Perils of Dating: Previous Relationships
A little unfinished bit of absurdity - or maybe it is finished, and I just don't know it.
SCENE: WINIFRED and LEWIS together at a restaurant.
WINIFRED: It's good to be out on a date again, you know. After my first husband, well, yes...
LEWIS: Your husband?
WINIFRED: First husband, yes -
LEWIS: You were married?
WINIFRED: Yes, well, John prefers I not tell everyone about it.
LEWIS: John, your first husband?
WINIFRED: No, John, my third husband.
LEWIS: THIRD husband?
WINIFRED: Yes, well, he's jealous, isn't he? Jealous of Thomas.
LEWIS: Thomas your first husband?
WINIFRED: No, Thomas my fourth husband. Thomas my first husband, and John my second husband don't mind a bit that I was married to Thomas my fourth husband. They even put it on their resumes. They all got on very well – but then, Thomas my fourth husband was a very likable man.
SCENE: WINIFRED and LEWIS together at a restaurant.
WINIFRED: It's good to be out on a date again, you know. After my first husband, well, yes...
LEWIS: Your husband?
WINIFRED: First husband, yes -
LEWIS: You were married?
WINIFRED: Yes, well, John prefers I not tell everyone about it.
LEWIS: John, your first husband?
WINIFRED: No, John, my third husband.
LEWIS: THIRD husband?
WINIFRED: Yes, well, he's jealous, isn't he? Jealous of Thomas.
LEWIS: Thomas your first husband?
WINIFRED: No, Thomas my fourth husband. Thomas my first husband, and John my second husband don't mind a bit that I was married to Thomas my fourth husband. They even put it on their resumes. They all got on very well – but then, Thomas my fourth husband was a very likable man.
The End Of The Film
(Written ages ago, sometime in the late 20th century.)
When rising water and ecological chaos related to global warming caused the collapse of all major economies and civilization in general (who didn't see that one coming?) I packed what little food I had and drove my car as far into the mountains as it would go. It gave out in mid-evening, in a mountain pass where storm clouds were gathering and bolts of lightning were singeing the dry grasses.
Prepared to die, I left the car and ran out into the landscape, sprinting heedlessly across the fields. Seeing a small butte in the middle distance, I turned towards it, intent on gaining elevation so as to better attract lightning.
Reaching it, I struggled up, crawling part of the distance on my hands and knees. At the top, gasping, I lit a cigarette and surveyed the land below me, where the bolts had ignited blazes.
Feeling a moment of melodrama coming on, I cried out, “God, WHY?”
The sound was absorbed into the emptiness of the smoky sky. When I figured He had to have received my initial hail, I continued in a somewhat quieter voice. “It's not for myself that I worry, but – all those people who believed in You ... Like – REALLY believed in You. I mean, some of them got all freaky about it, handling snakes and wearing big funny hats and going to prayer group every night of the week (except Bingo Thursdays) and stuff...”
I trailed off as a particularly violent bolt of lightning immolated a nearby shrub in a pyrotechnic explosion of sparks and flame, and sat down on a projection of rock at the edge of the hill to watch the world burn.
The clouds had gotten heavier, roiling and perturbed beyond all reason, vacuous temperamental giants bent on destruction, bellowing incomprehensible meteorological threats like an abusive drunkard. I stared up at the sky for an indeterminate time, until a hand tapped my shoulder tentatively. I leapt to my feet, prepared to attack - the indomitable survival instinct kicking in at a fairly futile time - to confront an old man, dressed in a white robe, looking at me somewhat timidly from over a pair of spectacles with bent frames. His hair and beard were long and white, His eyes indescribably innocent and simultaneously impossibly wise. In short:
God.
Grapes
(Cartoon, 5/12/13)
"Six months into an apparently ideal courtship, Steve and Jennifer decide to end it when they, at the exact same moment, confide to each other their mutual antipathy for grapes."
"Six months into an apparently ideal courtship, Steve and Jennifer decide to end it when they, at the exact same moment, confide to each other their mutual antipathy for grapes."
Saturday, May 11, 2013
The Story of Lump
An acknowledgement of existence in 12 figs.
(Drawn on lined notebook paper many years ago, colorized not so many years ago.)
(Drawn on lined notebook paper many years ago, colorized not so many years ago.)
Have a Nice Day!
(A cartoon I did many years ago, which I Photoshopped and colorized a few fewer years ago. Original line drawing after the jump.)
The Road To Anhedonia
(First-take recording of a song I wrote a couple months ago. Lyrics after the jump.)
The Corner Joke
Doodle from 5/11/13ish
No further explanation will be provided, because I am snickering.
Time Lapse
Welcome back, Constant Readers!
Firstly, I must apologize for the lengthy hiatus between my initial posts in July 2010 and this current ramble, being composed sometime in the wee hours of May 11, 2013. Now, please don't think that I've forgotten you in the interim - far from it. It's more that I forgot myself. Honestly, I'm not sure what I've been doing since then... sleeping, I dare say, and having some fairly annoying dreams, most of which involve bears and scorpions. I suppose I've been working a bit as well, but that hardly seems to have any bearing on anything, it's just something one does.
Oh, I moved from one place to another a couple years ago, took forever unpacking, made plans to do stuff with the house which I had neither the energy nor the finances to accomplish, met someone, had a complicated relationship which has now been downgraded to a friendship, and withdrew from most of my social circle as an energy-conservation measure. My creative efforts have largely been stymied and my day-to-day existence consists mostly of worrying about day-to-day existence. But, as I said, I've never forgotten my obligation to the grand and noble endeavor upon which we fellow-travelers embarked all those months ago, and it is with great pleasure that I announce my triumphant return.
You may cheer and/or applaud at this point.
Now, for some initial results: Nearly three years later, the experiment seems to be a complete success (but it may be too soon to say). I haven't posted anything, and no one has started following what I haven't written. This entirely validates my theories, and confirms some of my deepest inner feelings of void-like emptiness. However, as I have discovered in life, nearly anything is bearable, so long as you know you were right about it.
As I said, not a great deal has been accomplished lately, and the paucity of my postings is weighing on me, so until such time as current events merit their own cryptic posts I'm going to resort to posting various things from my 'back catalogue' - a wide assortment of written, visual, and musical thingamajigs™ which I trust will serve to distract and entertain you, as well as provide a false impression that I am, in fact, a productive person who actually does things every day... and not some lazy sod who spends days at a time in bed watching dreadful programs on Netflix and whiling away the hours until the inevitable end.
Are you ready to be deceived? Then we'll begin. (NOTE: Although I initially did most of these things in chronological order, I can't remember what that order was now, so these postings will be essentially random. With the best things first, of course - and with the hope that I'll come up with new and even more brilliant stuff before we wind up scraping the bottom of the barrel!)
Firstly, I must apologize for the lengthy hiatus between my initial posts in July 2010 and this current ramble, being composed sometime in the wee hours of May 11, 2013. Now, please don't think that I've forgotten you in the interim - far from it. It's more that I forgot myself. Honestly, I'm not sure what I've been doing since then... sleeping, I dare say, and having some fairly annoying dreams, most of which involve bears and scorpions. I suppose I've been working a bit as well, but that hardly seems to have any bearing on anything, it's just something one does.
Oh, I moved from one place to another a couple years ago, took forever unpacking, made plans to do stuff with the house which I had neither the energy nor the finances to accomplish, met someone, had a complicated relationship which has now been downgraded to a friendship, and withdrew from most of my social circle as an energy-conservation measure. My creative efforts have largely been stymied and my day-to-day existence consists mostly of worrying about day-to-day existence. But, as I said, I've never forgotten my obligation to the grand and noble endeavor upon which we fellow-travelers embarked all those months ago, and it is with great pleasure that I announce my triumphant return.
You may cheer and/or applaud at this point.
Now, for some initial results: Nearly three years later, the experiment seems to be a complete success (but it may be too soon to say). I haven't posted anything, and no one has started following what I haven't written. This entirely validates my theories, and confirms some of my deepest inner feelings of void-like emptiness. However, as I have discovered in life, nearly anything is bearable, so long as you know you were right about it.
As I said, not a great deal has been accomplished lately, and the paucity of my postings is weighing on me, so until such time as current events merit their own cryptic posts I'm going to resort to posting various things from my 'back catalogue' - a wide assortment of written, visual, and musical thingamajigs™ which I trust will serve to distract and entertain you, as well as provide a false impression that I am, in fact, a productive person who actually does things every day... and not some lazy sod who spends days at a time in bed watching dreadful programs on Netflix and whiling away the hours until the inevitable end.
Are you ready to be deceived? Then we'll begin. (NOTE: Although I initially did most of these things in chronological order, I can't remember what that order was now, so these postings will be essentially random. With the best things first, of course - and with the hope that I'll come up with new and even more brilliant stuff before we wind up scraping the bottom of the barrel!)
Friday, May 10, 2013
Impatience: It's been almost a couple of hours, and my legions of fans have yet to materialize!
(initially posted in July 2010)
Okay... Slightly disappointed here - I mean, this is the Internet, the circuits that never sleep, the World Wide Web, the gateway to all the rest of wifi-enabled humanity! There should be people all over the globe hanging on my every word, waiting to respond with impassioned lolspeakz and junior-high putdowns and Bible quotes and ads for counterfeit Taiwanese sneakers! ...Come on, trolls, where are you? (Oh - some nice, civilized, appreciative, fawning, sycophantic fans wouldn't be ill-received, either.)
"I ask you," he asked rhetorically, "what kind of an instant gratification culture do we live in if our desires for internet stardom are not instantly gratified? Huh? What kind?" He paused, waiting for a response from his unverifiable, but presumably enthralled, audience. "Oh, wait, that wasn't rhetorical, after all - I demand an explanation! Gratify me! INSTANTLY!" Police will not confirm, but independent sources report that, upon failing to be instantly gratified, the narrator (whose identity is being withheld pending notification of next of kin) ceased to refer to himself in the third person, and, drawing a concealed weapon, exclaimed "Biscuits are what you make of them!" and shot himself fatally in the head and kitchen, causing instant gratification to all those unfortunate enough to have made his previous acquaintance.
Seriously, people - start fanning, following, and commenting obsessively on me - unless you do, I might be responsible for my actions... So give yourself over to my novel miseries, and take the weight of lonely, independent, non-majority-driven existence off my shoulders!
"DO IT OR I'LL SLIT MY WRISTS AND JUMP OUT A WINDOW AND EAT POISON AND DIE AND IT'LL BE ALL YOUR FAULT!!!!"
(That always worked when I was a kid, so I thought it wouldn't do any harm to bung it in now. Also, you don't love me, you never loved me, and I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.)
And, yes, I realize, it's premature to start promising to kill oneself when one has barely begun to annoy people, but as the title of this blog post implies, it's been an incredibly long time, and STILL no one has dedicated a YouTube video to my awesomeness and overdubbed it with shitty pop music... And really, after the last couple of nougats of brilliance I've dispensed, a YouTube video is the very least I expect. After all, once I start really opening up about the twisted circumstances of my existence, that's going to set a pretty high bar, so you all probably ought to try to start out strongly and be ready to get super-ultra-maximo-melodramatic-and-culty about your reverence for me... You'll need to to keep up with what's to come.
So, folks - get cracking. This means YOU.
(for "Novel Miseries" templates, sample cards, and other merchandise which you may purchase to show how much you enjoy "Novel Miseries", please create your own "Novel Miseries" templates, sample cards, and other merchandise - and then pay me for it. Thank you.)
Okay... Slightly disappointed here - I mean, this is the Internet, the circuits that never sleep, the World Wide Web, the gateway to all the rest of wifi-enabled humanity! There should be people all over the globe hanging on my every word, waiting to respond with impassioned lolspeakz and junior-high putdowns and Bible quotes and ads for counterfeit Taiwanese sneakers! ...Come on, trolls, where are you? (Oh - some nice, civilized, appreciative, fawning, sycophantic fans wouldn't be ill-received, either.)
"I ask you," he asked rhetorically, "what kind of an instant gratification culture do we live in if our desires for internet stardom are not instantly gratified? Huh? What kind?" He paused, waiting for a response from his unverifiable, but presumably enthralled, audience. "Oh, wait, that wasn't rhetorical, after all - I demand an explanation! Gratify me! INSTANTLY!" Police will not confirm, but independent sources report that, upon failing to be instantly gratified, the narrator (whose identity is being withheld pending notification of next of kin) ceased to refer to himself in the third person, and, drawing a concealed weapon, exclaimed "Biscuits are what you make of them!" and shot himself fatally in the head and kitchen, causing instant gratification to all those unfortunate enough to have made his previous acquaintance.
Seriously, people - start fanning, following, and commenting obsessively on me - unless you do, I might be responsible for my actions... So give yourself over to my novel miseries, and take the weight of lonely, independent, non-majority-driven existence off my shoulders!
"DO IT OR I'LL SLIT MY WRISTS AND JUMP OUT A WINDOW AND EAT POISON AND DIE AND IT'LL BE ALL YOUR FAULT!!!!"
(That always worked when I was a kid, so I thought it wouldn't do any harm to bung it in now. Also, you don't love me, you never loved me, and I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.)
And, yes, I realize, it's premature to start promising to kill oneself when one has barely begun to annoy people, but as the title of this blog post implies, it's been an incredibly long time, and STILL no one has dedicated a YouTube video to my awesomeness and overdubbed it with shitty pop music... And really, after the last couple of nougats of brilliance I've dispensed, a YouTube video is the very least I expect. After all, once I start really opening up about the twisted circumstances of my existence, that's going to set a pretty high bar, so you all probably ought to try to start out strongly and be ready to get super-ultra-maximo-melodramatic-and-culty about your reverence for me... You'll need to to keep up with what's to come.
So, folks - get cracking. This means YOU.
(for "Novel Miseries" templates, sample cards, and other merchandise which you may purchase to show how much you enjoy "Novel Miseries", please create your own "Novel Miseries" templates, sample cards, and other merchandise - and then pay me for it. Thank you.)
It's not that I don't want to be famous - I just don't want you all to know who I am!
(initially posted in July 2010)
So, yeah - admittedly, it seems counterproductive to purposefully shroud one's identity, when one is already posting blog entries in the relative anonymity afforded by the world wide web. I mean, on the one hand, if you didn't want the world to know your business, why the hell are you writing a blog about it? And on the other hand, if you're writing a blog about it, why wouldn't you be out there shamelessly promoting it in the hopes of developing a regular readership? If a person who already had friends (or at least, acquaintances, I think I can go that far without offending anyone) were to decide that, for reasons known only to themselves, they were going to write a blog and wait for random followers to appear - rather than taking every opportunity to cross-link and talk up their latest effort - it would seem to indicate either a willful disconnect from reality or an attempt to prove some obscure sociological point... And, in my own case, I will freely and proudly admit to both. Throughout these entries, I hope to tread a fine line between talking about my personal experiences of life and actually revealing anything personal enough about myself to permit any kind of positive identification. This will likely fail, and the sooner someone goes all stalker and figures out who I am and posts it for the world the see, the more flattered I will be. In the mean time, I'm not above giving you all some clues:
Hint #1:
ANAGRAMS.
(There. See what you make of that, and check back on future posts for more hints... "Who is that mysterious masked blogger?")
So, yeah - admittedly, it seems counterproductive to purposefully shroud one's identity, when one is already posting blog entries in the relative anonymity afforded by the world wide web. I mean, on the one hand, if you didn't want the world to know your business, why the hell are you writing a blog about it? And on the other hand, if you're writing a blog about it, why wouldn't you be out there shamelessly promoting it in the hopes of developing a regular readership? If a person who already had friends (or at least, acquaintances, I think I can go that far without offending anyone) were to decide that, for reasons known only to themselves, they were going to write a blog and wait for random followers to appear - rather than taking every opportunity to cross-link and talk up their latest effort - it would seem to indicate either a willful disconnect from reality or an attempt to prove some obscure sociological point... And, in my own case, I will freely and proudly admit to both. Throughout these entries, I hope to tread a fine line between talking about my personal experiences of life and actually revealing anything personal enough about myself to permit any kind of positive identification. This will likely fail, and the sooner someone goes all stalker and figures out who I am and posts it for the world the see, the more flattered I will be. In the mean time, I'm not above giving you all some clues:
Hint #1:
ANAGRAMS.
(There. See what you make of that, and check back on future posts for more hints... "Who is that mysterious masked blogger?")
Introducing... (drumroll) ... "Novel Miseries!"
(initially posted in July 2010)
Hello, and welcome to "Novel Miseries", your new favorite blog!
As with traditional blogs, I follow the ancient and time-honored format of sharing all one's most personal thoughts about, musings over, and reflections upon life (in all its various and glorious manifestations, but particularly as observed and experienced by me, someone incredibly boring, to whom nothing interesting has ever, and God willing, will ever, happen) with a vast audience of people whom I don't know, through a marvel of technological innovation undreamt of in previous decades - and which, heretofore, was impossible to accomplish without a tremendous amount of effort, capital outlay, and determination of spirit - in the hopes that my pointless ramblings may divert you, my (and although this is the first post, you've never met me before, don't know me from Adam, and probably don't think too keenly of me upon initial inspection, I'm going to wager that you will keep reading and shall be so bold as to label you with the following term) Constant Reader(s), from your own paltry and pathos-ridden existences - I know you won't mind my referring to your lives as such, since you apparently have nothing better to do than read my insulting and torturously convoluted writing at whatever hour of the clock it is and despite the numerous pressing obligations which must surely be crying for your (if I've done my job right in the last sentence - yes, it really has been just one long sentence, try to parse it if you can) shattered and fragmented attention... such as it is, or may remain. (Bonus points to all who made it through this first assault on their sanity/literacy)
In short: Imma gonna write about me and my sad, sad, life. It's gonna be boring, excruciatingly detailed, there will be depressingly little levity to make up for the number of stagnant, nihilistic posts, and you're all going to love it. You hear me? YOU'RE GOING TO LOVE IT!!!!
(on the plus side, for those of you who care about such things, there will be very few typographical errors, as I tend to spell-check rigorously before posting anything. The only humiliations I shall tolerate are those humiliations up for which I set myself... understand?)
As for what, specifically, I shall write about, I really haven't figured that out yet. But, seeing as how everyone else seems to be doing it, I decided to chip in with my two cents worth - or rather, what used to be my two cents worth... these days, what with inflation, devaluation, stagnation, the Federal Reserve, and the Zionist One World Government Conspiracy, it's really only about one cent worth (but don't get the idea that I'm blaming the Jews for that). Either way, I'll be subjecting you all to the minutiae of my warped thought processes and the diseased fruit of my tiny but active brain, and there's nothing you can do about it, except stop reading (which, if you haven't by now, you're probably not going to). That, or you could suggest something for me to write about. Regardless, I'm sure it shall be extremely random... But you guys like random, right? Otherwise, why would you spatula knee fothergill bustier mizzen wimple the smorgasbord?
Well, until such time as the requests start pouring in and the followers begin to amass, I shall merely rely upon my own, fractally-based, internal algorithm for handling complex systems dynamics, and basically write about whatever comes to mind. I mean, as soon as something does. You have to realize, these things don't happen instantaneously, so why don't you go get a bowl of corn flakes, or foie gras, or better yet, both, while I wait for inspiration to strike?
Hello, and welcome to "Novel Miseries", your new favorite blog!
As with traditional blogs, I follow the ancient and time-honored format of sharing all one's most personal thoughts about, musings over, and reflections upon life (in all its various and glorious manifestations, but particularly as observed and experienced by me, someone incredibly boring, to whom nothing interesting has ever, and God willing, will ever, happen) with a vast audience of people whom I don't know, through a marvel of technological innovation undreamt of in previous decades - and which, heretofore, was impossible to accomplish without a tremendous amount of effort, capital outlay, and determination of spirit - in the hopes that my pointless ramblings may divert you, my (and although this is the first post, you've never met me before, don't know me from Adam, and probably don't think too keenly of me upon initial inspection, I'm going to wager that you will keep reading and shall be so bold as to label you with the following term) Constant Reader(s), from your own paltry and pathos-ridden existences - I know you won't mind my referring to your lives as such, since you apparently have nothing better to do than read my insulting and torturously convoluted writing at whatever hour of the clock it is and despite the numerous pressing obligations which must surely be crying for your (if I've done my job right in the last sentence - yes, it really has been just one long sentence, try to parse it if you can) shattered and fragmented attention... such as it is, or may remain. (Bonus points to all who made it through this first assault on their sanity/literacy)
In short: Imma gonna write about me and my sad, sad, life. It's gonna be boring, excruciatingly detailed, there will be depressingly little levity to make up for the number of stagnant, nihilistic posts, and you're all going to love it. You hear me? YOU'RE GOING TO LOVE IT!!!!
(on the plus side, for those of you who care about such things, there will be very few typographical errors, as I tend to spell-check rigorously before posting anything. The only humiliations I shall tolerate are those humiliations up for which I set myself... understand?)
As for what, specifically, I shall write about, I really haven't figured that out yet. But, seeing as how everyone else seems to be doing it, I decided to chip in with my two cents worth - or rather, what used to be my two cents worth... these days, what with inflation, devaluation, stagnation, the Federal Reserve, and the Zionist One World Government Conspiracy, it's really only about one cent worth (but don't get the idea that I'm blaming the Jews for that). Either way, I'll be subjecting you all to the minutiae of my warped thought processes and the diseased fruit of my tiny but active brain, and there's nothing you can do about it, except stop reading (which, if you haven't by now, you're probably not going to). That, or you could suggest something for me to write about. Regardless, I'm sure it shall be extremely random... But you guys like random, right? Otherwise, why would you spatula knee fothergill bustier mizzen wimple the smorgasbord?
Well, until such time as the requests start pouring in and the followers begin to amass, I shall merely rely upon my own, fractally-based, internal algorithm for handling complex systems dynamics, and basically write about whatever comes to mind. I mean, as soon as something does. You have to realize, these things don't happen instantaneously, so why don't you go get a bowl of corn flakes, or foie gras, or better yet, both, while I wait for inspiration to strike?
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