Friday, October 4, 2013
Free Writing: Some Friendly Encouragement From Your Internal Creative Muse!
(written in September 2011.)
Self-sabotage – the act of writing is undercut by the expectations of the unformed story. Each sentence, each choice of word and phrase is called into question. What should be the simplest thing in the world – telling a story – becomes so laden and fraught with complications as to make the task insurmountable. Free write – go on, go on, free write – but don't just type the same thing over and over again. And don't resort to gibberish – that's not writing, that's just pointless motion of the fingers. And don't start just writing down your thoughts – that's called 'journalling' or 'keeping a diary', and look where that got Anne Frank. And DON'T start getting distracted by the slight wiggle from the loose battery on the bottom of your laptop, or the bit of food stuck in your teeth, or the fact that your friend may have sent you an instant message in the other window! Just – free write! What's so fucking difficult about that? Huh? Can you tell me? Quit censoring yourself and let the story come through – Okay, here we go: "The dog was – the dog went – the dog sitting by the side of the road had a mournful air. It cocked its head alertly enough though, following the pickup truck which-"
-You're starting with a dog? What the hell is that? You're supposed to be free writing, allowing your subconscious thoughts to percolate and bubble to the surface as you type the words, revealing the innermost secrets of your mind to an uncaring world and apathetic (or more likely non-existent) audience, living the nobility of art – creation sheerly for the drive of it, a desire to create your own worlds and populate them with characters of your own design, and you choose to start with a DOG? And then what? More journalling, more self-censure, more pretentious artsy bullshit! I told you before, just free write! Are you stupid?
Self-sabotage – the act of writing is undercut by the expectations of the unformed story. Each sentence, each choice of word and phrase is called into question. What should be the simplest thing in the world – telling a story – becomes so laden and fraught with complications as to make the task insurmountable. Free write – go on, go on, free write – but don't just type the same thing over and over again. And don't resort to gibberish – that's not writing, that's just pointless motion of the fingers. And don't start just writing down your thoughts – that's called 'journalling' or 'keeping a diary', and look where that got Anne Frank. And DON'T start getting distracted by the slight wiggle from the loose battery on the bottom of your laptop, or the bit of food stuck in your teeth, or the fact that your friend may have sent you an instant message in the other window! Just – free write! What's so fucking difficult about that? Huh? Can you tell me? Quit censoring yourself and let the story come through – Okay, here we go: "The dog was – the dog went – the dog sitting by the side of the road had a mournful air. It cocked its head alertly enough though, following the pickup truck which-"
-You're starting with a dog? What the hell is that? You're supposed to be free writing, allowing your subconscious thoughts to percolate and bubble to the surface as you type the words, revealing the innermost secrets of your mind to an uncaring world and apathetic (or more likely non-existent) audience, living the nobility of art – creation sheerly for the drive of it, a desire to create your own worlds and populate them with characters of your own design, and you choose to start with a DOG? And then what? More journalling, more self-censure, more pretentious artsy bullshit! I told you before, just free write! Are you stupid?
You've Had Your Fun - Now Lie In It!
(written in mid-2009, I think.)
(scene: a cheap, glitzy talk show.)
JULIAN: Hello, and welcome to "You've Had Your Fun, Now Lie In It!", the programme where we take a long, hard, prurient look at the sordid lives and tragic circumstances of some of the world's saddest cases, and from our narrow, biased, comfortably remote perspective, render harsh critical judgments whilst doing nothing to improve the lot of the losers we examine! I'm your host, Julian Rotter! On today's show, we talk to an unemployed mother of 6 living in a Kentucky trailer park (audience jeers and boos), a blind nun working with starving children in Africa (audience jeers and boos), and a mystery caller with a BIG problem (audience jeers and boos in an intrigued way), among others. That's coming right up - but first a word from our sponsors!
(commercial break)
JULIAN: Welcome back, welcome back, those were some lovely ads, weren't they? It's lovely to be in a free country and be able to have all sorts of lovely things advertised to one, isn't it? Which reminds me, remember to only purchase the brands you've seen advertised on here, or you're a worthless piece of shit. Now, talking of buying lovely things, let's push right on into the program and talk to someone who can't, shall we? (audience boos) Linda is on the line with us from Kentucky, isn't she, now Linda, tell us, what's the problem? Why aren't you out there, supporting the economy by buying lovely things like a good citizen?
LINDA: Hi Julian, well, I'm not sure that question is fair; I'd like to have more disposable income, but I'm a single mother (audience boos) with three children to support (audience boos) and I have to budget very carefully.
JULIAN: I suppose between bailing your numerous gap-toothed ex-husbands out of jail and the nightly pint of wild turkey things do get a bit stretched, don't they?
JULIAN: Hello, and welcome to "You've Had Your Fun, Now Lie In It!", the programme where we take a long, hard, prurient look at the sordid lives and tragic circumstances of some of the world's saddest cases, and from our narrow, biased, comfortably remote perspective, render harsh critical judgments whilst doing nothing to improve the lot of the losers we examine! I'm your host, Julian Rotter! On today's show, we talk to an unemployed mother of 6 living in a Kentucky trailer park (audience jeers and boos), a blind nun working with starving children in Africa (audience jeers and boos), and a mystery caller with a BIG problem (audience jeers and boos in an intrigued way), among others. That's coming right up - but first a word from our sponsors!
(commercial break)
JULIAN: Welcome back, welcome back, those were some lovely ads, weren't they? It's lovely to be in a free country and be able to have all sorts of lovely things advertised to one, isn't it? Which reminds me, remember to only purchase the brands you've seen advertised on here, or you're a worthless piece of shit. Now, talking of buying lovely things, let's push right on into the program and talk to someone who can't, shall we? (audience boos) Linda is on the line with us from Kentucky, isn't she, now Linda, tell us, what's the problem? Why aren't you out there, supporting the economy by buying lovely things like a good citizen?
LINDA: Hi Julian, well, I'm not sure that question is fair; I'd like to have more disposable income, but I'm a single mother (audience boos) with three children to support (audience boos) and I have to budget very carefully.
JULIAN: I suppose between bailing your numerous gap-toothed ex-husbands out of jail and the nightly pint of wild turkey things do get a bit stretched, don't they?
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Disassociation Blues
(Song from a long time ago - can't remember when, but I'm guessing 2003-2004ish.)
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
The Energizer Bunny
(I don't even remember when I did this one... it was definitely a LONG time ago, maybe the late '90s. If it had a caption, it would be something like "...LeShawn knew it was only a matter of time.")
More Gibberhymes
(composed a couple days after the "Bing Bop" series I'm currently illustrating. Maybe when I finish that I'll have a go at this.)
"Pwui p'tooie drambuie eschplooie!
Griggle and viggle and fliggle and shoeie!
Meejie and chigi and werble and verble,
Abjab-widabdab the kibble mawurgul...
A pinkle, a quipple, a flurp and a floop -
A mizul, a mazul, a binterdy-voup!
Chiamon rebriamun pellagity-whee,
Squidjum badidgium and rovichaui.
Klerklum and dunklin, a fijjle-buplee -
Laxamitachsobouroo sabaeri?"
It's Not The End Of The World
(This was written for a high-school English class, circa 1998 - unaccountably, I'm still fond of it.)
The day was hot and sunny, possibly due to global warming. Jane Palmer was in her back yard, reading a book and considering the laws of physics when her best friend, Lisa, came out. “Hullo, Lisa,” Jane said responsibly.
“Hello, Jane,” Lisa replied.
“Want a book?” asked Jane, pointing to a small pile of them on the grass beside her sun chair.
“No thanks.” She demurred.
“Sure? I’ve got Plato.” Jane dangled the small drab book tantalizingly, as though it were an enticement irresistible to any normal person.
Lisa considered. “Thanks anyway.”
“Suit yourself.” Jane went back to her book.
In the two minutes of silence that followed, one hundred eleven people all over the world died of causes natural and unnatural. However, one hundred eighteen were born. Jane read three pages in her book. Also, Lisa slapped a bug crawling on her leg.
Jane looked up. “Yes?”
“I slapped a bug.”
The day was hot and sunny, possibly due to global warming. Jane Palmer was in her back yard, reading a book and considering the laws of physics when her best friend, Lisa, came out. “Hullo, Lisa,” Jane said responsibly.
“Hello, Jane,” Lisa replied.
“Want a book?” asked Jane, pointing to a small pile of them on the grass beside her sun chair.
“No thanks.” She demurred.
“Sure? I’ve got Plato.” Jane dangled the small drab book tantalizingly, as though it were an enticement irresistible to any normal person.
Lisa considered. “Thanks anyway.”
“Suit yourself.” Jane went back to her book.
In the two minutes of silence that followed, one hundred eleven people all over the world died of causes natural and unnatural. However, one hundred eighteen were born. Jane read three pages in her book. Also, Lisa slapped a bug crawling on her leg.
Jane looked up. “Yes?”
“I slapped a bug.”
Point to Point
(Written in mid-2008.)
DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
NANCY - in her 30s, talk show host looking
DR. PROFESSOR - in his 40s, conservative looking
ALAN - in his 20s or 30s, intellectual and liberal looking
(scene is a tv studio set - one of those minimalistic affairs with a desk behind which the host sits, a couple chairs and/or a sofa for the guests - possibly a fake backdrop of a cityscape, as is so commonly used. Titles and dramatic music indroduce the show, and we see NANCY behind the desk, DR. PROFESSOR and ALAN in the guest chairs. The general feel is that of one of those annoying, talky, argumentative, substance-less issues shows which bore most of us to tears.)
NANCY: Hello, and welcome to Point to Point. I'm Nancy Baker. For most of us, lines and geometry - if you'll pardon the expressions - aren't much a part of our day to day lives... We are surrounded by, but at the same time quite unaware, by and large, of the angles, shapes, and other odd things that a lot of people find quite uncomfortable to talk about. Well, the last few weeks, there's been a lot of national attention being given to these subjects, and on tonight's show we're going to try to examine them in a very linear way and just sort of see where that takes us. With us today is Dr. Mister Professor, a representative of a very conservative and thoughtful conservative think tank, who likes to take on social issues when he's not tackling completely unrelated subjects like economics and globalization - welcome, Doctor.
DR. PROFESSOR: Thanks, Nancy.
NANCY: You also like sweepstakes competitions, boys gymnastics, and things either spelt with a 'w' or tinted sort of chartreuse, is that right?
DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
NANCY - in her 30s, talk show host looking
DR. PROFESSOR - in his 40s, conservative looking
ALAN - in his 20s or 30s, intellectual and liberal looking
(scene is a tv studio set - one of those minimalistic affairs with a desk behind which the host sits, a couple chairs and/or a sofa for the guests - possibly a fake backdrop of a cityscape, as is so commonly used. Titles and dramatic music indroduce the show, and we see NANCY behind the desk, DR. PROFESSOR and ALAN in the guest chairs. The general feel is that of one of those annoying, talky, argumentative, substance-less issues shows which bore most of us to tears.)
NANCY: Hello, and welcome to Point to Point. I'm Nancy Baker. For most of us, lines and geometry - if you'll pardon the expressions - aren't much a part of our day to day lives... We are surrounded by, but at the same time quite unaware, by and large, of the angles, shapes, and other odd things that a lot of people find quite uncomfortable to talk about. Well, the last few weeks, there's been a lot of national attention being given to these subjects, and on tonight's show we're going to try to examine them in a very linear way and just sort of see where that takes us. With us today is Dr. Mister Professor, a representative of a very conservative and thoughtful conservative think tank, who likes to take on social issues when he's not tackling completely unrelated subjects like economics and globalization - welcome, Doctor.
DR. PROFESSOR: Thanks, Nancy.
NANCY: You also like sweepstakes competitions, boys gymnastics, and things either spelt with a 'w' or tinted sort of chartreuse, is that right?
Mystery Train
(A song I wrote back in 2006 - the usual setup of ancient computers/software/synthesizers)
The Steamingly New Programme - Opening Theme
(I wrote this sometime in 2009. It's meant to be the music that plays during the title sequence of my long-awaited - by me, anyway - sketch comedy show. The credit graphics are just a rough thing I threw together; I actually have an elaborate opening animation storyboarded out - but I need to make the time to learn the requisite CGI skills to accomplish it. One of these days, one of these days. In the meantime, enjoy the music, ignore the visuals.)
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