The Day Is Upon Us

Today has finally arrived...the day that all of western civilization has been waiting for...designed for...created for...inspired for...WHITE TRASH XMAS EVE!!! Yes, ladies and pseudo-gentlemen, there is a turducken in my fridge as we speak...oh the wonderful sight...it is truly beautiful...it is truly magnificent...it is truly white trash! I couldn't be more proud.

Sitting here...at my computer...away from work...a White Trash Russian in one hand and a beautiful piece of glass in the other...it makes me think...think of others less fortunate than me...those who do not have the means to make their own white trash xmas eve...those who cannot afford a chicken in every pot...or a turkey, chicken and duck in their oven. It makes me think of those who are not as fortunate...so I would like you all to give at least 1 dollar to those men and women ringing the bells for the Salvation Army, or find your own way to give a little back. If everyone gave a little something maybe less people would have nothing.

One a lighter note...

I have named book 4, yes...the 4th book no one will read...is named! A wonderful name that I want to use sooner...but I won't...

No one wrote about my terribly hilarious joke in my last blog...I am assuming it went unnoticed...and for some of you I find terribly disappointing. Oh well...

I am writing more and more and it is wonderful. Things are really moving forward again...with a HUGE FUCKING ROADBLOCK right in my way...I have hit a point where I need to start pulling threads together...and that may not be easy...but I will manage.

Arsenal won again...and are on top of the premiership as then prepare for their Boxing Day match. Waking up at 4am to go to a bar and watch soccer may seem crazy to some of you...but there is a wonderful strangeness about being sober at 4am in a bar...and being drunk at 6am. Priceless.

I am off to cook for our white trash xmas eve party...no...extravaganza! It will be good. It will be very good.

I love all of you...okay...maybe not all of you.. and I thank you for all that you have contributed to my fight for a life...okay...maybe not ALL that you have contributed. Okay...that didn't come out right...how about this...chances are i don't wish any of you to be hit buy a bus and linger in a not really dead not really alive vegetative state for years while your family slowly abandons you and all hope of your survival...but you can see them...sadly you are powerless to communicate...all you hear is their anguished cries for you to wake up but you cant.

Okay...that didn't end up well either...how about this...if there is a hell, and i am sure there is, and i am sure you are all going to be there...I wish that I can be close enough to each of you to smell your burning flesh and hear your horrific cries of help for all eternity. Actually, I don't want to be there with you...

Okay...how about this...

To all of you I wish you nothing but joy and happiness in the new year...may you all love what you do and do what you love...and if you're lucky...who you love...or like a little bit...or is very good looking...or kind of good looking but is nice...or is unattractive and rich...or anyone who will let you.

HAPPY WHITE TRASH XMAS EVE...HAPPY FESTIVUS!!!



To be able to practice five things everywhere under heaven constitutes perfect virtue... gravity, generosity of soul, sincerity,earnestness,and kindness.- Confucius

One Example Of Literary Irony

The Holiday Season is now upon us, so I would like to start my latest indulgence with the obligitory season's greetings. This is the season where the little things get lost in the fast paced shuffle of consumerism. I am thankful for the little things...such as:

*Arsenal Beat Chelsea this morning 1-0.

*My fantasy team had the lowest scoring output of the season...and won! We are headed to the finals.

*Got a tree...a great tree. Tomorrow night I will be decorating it.

*I am done shopping.

*Senior Goldbergo was in town last week and we had a lot of fun getting drunk and playing table games while I jones'd hard for a smoke.

*Holiday food!

*Holiday parties.

*A little extra something in your stocking...


...and many, many more.


Now some random thoughts...

I am thinking of making my blog for friends only. I am getting a lot of people reading this drivel...and I am not sure who it could be. I would hate to think that people are only getting these small glimpses without the proper context...something someone could so easily misconstrue and think I am an asshole.

I haven't been writing much recently, and I don't know why. I like what I am writing more than anything I have written before...maybe it is too much pressure. I don't know. I feel loose when I write, but I get a little anxious every time I think about writing.

I just found out that there are The Big Lewboski conventions...they have them all over the country. The one in LA has a tour...a tour of The Big Lebowski related spots...okay...I am truly torn here. I love the movie and think it is one of the greatest movies of all time...but I also recognize that the idea of a Big Lebowski festival/convention is just as stupid and pathetic as a Star Trek convention...but here is the horrible part...IF the opportunity came to me...and I didn't actively pursue it...I would go...I know it would be lame...I know I would be lame...but I would do it.

Is there a difference between Rufus T. Firefly and George W. Bush?

Tonight was a great Simpson's episode.

The 185th Annual White Trash Xmas eve is coming along swimmingly. The Turducken is going to be ready in time...the guest list is being finalized...growing in numbers like VD in an inner city high school...this is shaping up to be the trashiest White Trash Xmas Eve since the missing week of '58...and I think all know how painful that was.

Be safe. Have a great holiday season. Go Arsenal. Go Cowboys. Go Santa. Go Presents. Go Go-Go's.



If you wish to travel far and fast, travel light. Take off all your envies, jealousies, unforgiveness, selfishness, and fears. - Glenn Clark

Modern Stoned Age Family

I was flying back to Las Vegas when it hit me. For the first time since the day I started the trek from New Jersey...I wasn't absolutely giddy to be back in Las Vegas. I have flown for personal and business reasons many, many times. Each and every time by the time the wheels lifted off the ground I was already missing home. When I was on my return flight I could hardly keep a thought in my head I would be so excited to get back to my home...not just my physical structure...my own bed is a great thing...but the city. I love this place and it makes me happy.

This time was different, and I didn't notice it when I was flying out. I was too excited. I was going to see my family. The thought of being with my brothers again knocked out every other thought in my head. I decided to fly back to college for my fraternities 50th anniversary. I hadn't seen Plattsburgh in 5 years, so I was excited. I hadn't seen some of my brothers, people I am closest to in the world, in at least 5 years...longer in some cases. Too long. Much too long.

The weekend itself was one of the best in my life. I laughed harder than I have laughed since I was in school. It was outrageous. The things I saw. Too much and too inside to even get into here. You had to be there. You had to be one of us.

The return flight I only thought of one thing...family. The nature of what constitutes family. I have people that share the same DNA with me that I don't give a fuck about, and I have people who I share DNA with and I absolutely loathe them. Then I have a 100 guys that share none of the typical, "normal" family bonds, but I love and care about them more than most people in my life. I believe that what makes family is a shared experience, a shared bond. Family will help you, family will support you, and family will be there when you need.

I love these guys the same way I did when I saw them everyday. We may not have shared some overly traumatic experience like a war, but we shared many experiences during an important time of our personal growth. I love them for the same reason that I have always loved them, because they stand together...no matter what. Everyday I was with them I was proud to know that they had each others back. We were really a family. We still are.

The Unusual Lightness of Being

Where to begin? That is the question...

Ok. I will begin with the best news, and go from there...

Throughout this writing process I have been very open, as open as I could, about my experiences. I have tried to explain the joy and pain of what has become my obsession. Even the alienation I have felt over my writing and the business side of it all...but now that something wonderful has happened to me, I have held off blogging about it...and I can't understand why...well..I know why...it is because this is the first substantial step I have taken since I finished the first manuscript. I guess the dream has headed into a new phase and I am uneasy...scared...about it.

A few weeks ago I got tired of the whining and the bellyaching. I was really irritated at the lack of progress, but more than that...I was irritated by my own inability to know what to do. I was lost...well....thanks to my job I came up with an idea. I advertised for an independent editor. someone that would be able to help take my ADMITTEDLY rough edition and polish this turd into something good. Well, I found her. She seems really good. She has big house publishing experience...I hope that doesn't mean prison...I didn't ask...and she has helped authors get published. Now the dreams of being published are still that...dreams. I in NO way believe that this book will be the next Davinci Code...poorly written but interesting and a best seller...but I think she can get me to a point where I can look at the final project and be proud. That is all I really want. If I have to self-publish...great...IF I get paid to publish...great. I just want a publishable manuscript. I think she can do that for me. So, we start our partnership as of the first of the month. She even DEEPLY discounted her rate for me because she liked the chapters she read...so that make me feel well.
Overall I received 70+ critiques of my first 3 chapters and they were almost all glowing. Only 2 people told me that it wasn't worth their time. The rest really liked it. So, it was an ego boost, and it was also a vindication that I am not crazy...this book has some merit...or books... have some merit. That is a huge relief for me. I wasn't sure to be perfectly honest...I was have been so hard on myself I just didn't know anymore if it was good. I needed this. So...that is my big news.

Job...I was pretty down on it when I started, but this job with a major telecom company has been the best working experience of my life. I can't go into major details, but I am actually influencing marketing and recruitment efforts on a national level. Job postings all over the country are being changed because I have redesigned them. People are applying for these jobs because of my vision and desire to market the jobs to the demographics that will be most affected by them. That is thrilling. A Fortune 100 company is actually listening to me. I have had success with other companies, but nothing at this level.

I am in my new apartment, and yes...I still miss my old place and i am not sure that this is something that I enjoy...but it is close to work and it will due for now. What can you do? What is done is done.

Arsenal is on the top of the Premiership...and that is a great thing...especially with the loss of Henry.

Looks like I will be getting my 61" flat screen for my bedroom, that is pretty cool.


Lots more...but I am just tired and watching the Patriots spank the Chargers. I guess I will end it with the fact that life is good, and i feel great. I really do. It seems like life is moving forward, and that is a good thing. Nothing worse than being stuff in existence. Too painful to endure.


Man is so made that whenever anything fires his soul, impossibilities vanish. - Jean de la Fontaine

My Last Night

...in my apartment. The moving day is just a few hours away.

I have to admit that I am not entirely thrilled about this move, but it is what it is, and it will happen if I am less than thrilled or not.

I fully recognize that I am someone who puts down roots rather quickly, especially when I am happy. I see the idea of "home" as being very transient. Reasons that I will just leave untyped for now...it isn't germane to this blast of self-indulgence. The idea of "home" to me is where you are and where you are happy, not some mythical place of my youth or some idealized version of what the future will hold. Regardless, this apartment is home to me. But...it is more than that...

I think this apartment will have a special affinity for apartment the way I have for Plattsburgh. To me both places have been oasis's in the storms of my life. I ran to Plattsburgh to escape the scum sucking shithole known as New Jersey. I have run to Las Vegas, my desert oasis, from the scum sucking shithole known as New Jersey. I love Las Vegas and it has been good to me, and many of those times revolve around this place.

I still remember seeing this place for the first time. I swear to you that I know how Moses felt when he saw the promise land...except my journey was in a car...but we did go to a desert. I honestly felt liberated the night we moved in...we went to a bar, got drunk and celebrated our new found freedom. What a wonderful evening. The warm dry air, the lights of the Strip, the newness of the city, the euphoria of coming off a grueling road trip. It was truly special.

I am trying to see this move as a cleansing of sort, and keep it in perspective...I am only going ten blocks away. Still, in my mind I associate that escape from New Jersey and this apartment so closely that I am not able to be really happy about this, yet.

I will be offline for a few days.

I wept because I had no shoes, until I saw a man who had no feet.
- Persian saying

Bottomless Pit Of Joy

Several pieces of good news....

1) I have titled all three books that will never be published and never be read. Despite that sad fact, I am rather excited by it all. I never thought I would have titles. I would like a series title, and I think I have one...but for now the books are titled and that is good enough for me. I came up with the last one tonight and it really works. (4 and 5 aren't titled, but they aren't finished yet...I am sure a brilliant stroke of mediocrity will hit me when they are done.)

Interestingly enough, I have thought of all the titles of my book, save one, at the gym. Ok, that wasn't very interesting at all.

2) I have accepted a job and decided to return to the world of the living. Contract job...let's not get crazy. There aren't too many people living so why commit to it fully? Seems like a good situation for 5-6 months.

3) Arsenal won their first match. Hleb scored the winner...yes...Hleb.

4) I move into my new and improved apartment in the next couple weeks and that is a very good thing.

5) After years of dreaming...after years of planning...after years of making Christmas as white trash as possible without being Britney Spears...I have topped myself. Yes, I the inventor and sole creator of White Trash Christmas Eve...have out done my white trashiness...my Christmas meal...will be...a Cajun favorite...slightly south of the epicenter of white trash (Arkansas being the dead center)...we are eating...TURDUCKEN!!!! Yes, ladies and germs...a turkey, stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a chicken, and two kinds of stuffing to hold it all together will be our meal. 15-20lbs of the finest dead animals a human being, who is usually married to his cousin, is allowed to eat by law. It will take lots of white trash planning...and maybe a shed that can be converted into a marriage altar, but it will work! Fear not...my white trash Christmas knows no bounds. Penny slots, cheap watered down drinks, 3 dollar blackjack, Marlboro Reds, extreme drunkeness...and the cherry on top....TURDUCKEN!!!!!


(The response to my last blog was so overwhelming I am not going to get into it now...but I complement the ones who got it...the one or two who think that I was not equally as hard on myself should really be lobotomized and sterilized for the good of society. Thank you.)


"...I'll admit in front that I have a special affinity for things that don't quite fit into any given demarcated category, partly because I'm one of those perennial misfits myself by choice as well as fate or whatever." - Lester Bangs

Clearing The Arteries

On this Saturday night I have decided to blog. Some interesting things have happened...to me... both in the mater of it being interesting and to whom it happened. Now sure I just used "whom" correctly, but fuck it. Stick with this I think it gets better.

First, I have a new housemate. My friend Karl has join the Weber casa, and my old roomate Dave departed. I had two blissful months to myself and that was wonderful. Now Karl is here and it is going to be good. We have a lot in common and I think this is going to be a good temporary partnership in strictly the most heterosexual of terms.

Second, I left my last job, for many reasons and I have been living the Vegas life for about two months. Depleting my savings, using unemployment and playing poker...and let me tell you this...it has been the greatest respite of my life. I didn't tell anyone earlier, but between no flatmate and no job I was really able to invest in a little me time...to put it in the gayest way possible...but it is true. I really needed some time to explore some things. When I started I wasn't sure what it was that I needed to think about, but I knew that there was something not right. Something askew. I tried like hell to think about it, write about it, and examine the thoughts that came from it, but to no avail. I can't say that I have fully examined every speck of my soul and found all the secrets of what it is to be me, but I will say that this cathartic time-out from life was exactly what the doctor ordered...Dr. Mengele...but still it was a doctor.

Since my writing went well recently, especially today, and I am in a particularly truthful mood I do want to share one of the things that I learned, but I am going to keep it as shrouded as possible as to protect the innocent and the guilty alike...this revelation came to me mostly a while ago...but an inconsequential event and my TIVO made me think about it a little while ago...so...here it goes...

When I was in my youth I dated someone for a long time. This relationship was tumultuous and stormy to put it mildly...bat shit fucking crazy would be more apt. Well, long after the mutual insane hurtfest ended I reconnected, in a way, with this woman. We were able to express our side of the relationship in a very open and frank way...to ABSOLUTELY no better understanding of each others position...I was as guilty as not being able or willing to understand as she was.
What I thought was just a minor issue turned out to be a major sticking point to my lack of appreciation for the situation, which I didn't fully understand at the time. She used to repeatedly tell me that she never loved me, not ever, during the course of our unholy union. For some reason, despite all the pain, suffering, misery, stupidity, lies, deceit and game playing, I really truly believed she loved me. Chuckle all you want, but it is true. There are several obvious reasons that I wanted to believe it...the time we spent together, vanity, ego, and the sincere belief that she told me just ONE THING that was true and honest and sweet during our hellacious bunchalliance (I like that word.) Also, I truely believed that the reason she told me that was because she wanted to hurt me, it was her way of trying to dig at me.
A while ago I came to a true moment of clarity. Something triggered in my head listening to an argument between an equally stupid couple. At that moment when we were talking later at a bar and he was complaining...I heard my voice and it scared the shit out of me. I had said a million time to her and to others that she never really loved me and she never really liked me. Still, when she said it to me, I didn't want to believe it...the infamous Weber ego reared its bulbous bus head. At that moment, in that bar, drinking an ice cold Blue Moon (great beer), I had an epiphany...that moment of true clarity. I understood....
...she never did really love me. She never did really like me. She was being honest with me and I ALWAYS knew it...and that honesty caused me to act out in stupid ways with her. Stupid, self-destructive ways. I was hurt, I didn't know it, I wanted her to hurt, I didn't know it...I was embarassed and humiliated, I wanted her to be embarassed and humiliated and I NEVER KNEW IT! I NEVER FELT IT! I NEVER UNDERSTOOD IT!! Sitting in that bar I felt like I was going to laugh, cry, throw up, jump for joy...I was all over the place in my mind. The next morning I saw more. I never loved her either. I never liked her either. When we met I was REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY hurting from a relationship I had prior. Over a year prior, but I was wrapped in angst and guilt and I was unable to let go. When I met this girl, I saw she was lost, I saw she was broken...and I was stupid, arrogant and conceited enough to think I could help her, I could save her, I could fix her. I didn't understand the most basic thing to life...YOU CANNOT FIX SOMEONE ELSE!!!! THEY MUST FIX THEMSELVES AND YOU MUST FIX YOURSELF!!
In this girl I saw a way to make up for the wrongs I had committed and prove to myself that I wasn't the total worthless fucking asshole that I was feeling with every ounce of my being. I was in a midst of a depression and self-loathing that I covered with arrogance and bravado. I was NOT in a place to fix anyone even if it could be done. I was a raging mess inside. I never loved her, I saw her as a way to make me whole, and I stayed with it because I quit my last relationship without a fight, thought i did the honorable thing and fell on my sword, and was ushered out the door...ALL by design. This time I was NOT going to do that. I was going to stick with this. I was going to stay in this WAY PAST THE POINT OF ABSURDITY! Which I regrettably for both sides did. I didn't like her, I flat out hated her fucking guts 99% of the time and never, ever felt comfortable with her because of her highly bi-polar state. So it was always an extreme high or an extreme depression, and it always kept me off balance.
Here is the part I want to get across, because I think this is the most important thing. NEITHER OF US WAS RIGHT! NEITHER OF US WAS WRONG! One was good while the other was bad! One was not better or worse than the other! We were totally incompatible from the SECOND we met, and if either one of us was a healthy, complete, whole human being we would have run fucking screaming from the other one like our hair was on fire! I blamed her for everything. She blamed me for everything. We hated each other. We tortured each other and LOVED doing it. Our internal misery and the desire to unleash that on another human being was the only tie that binded us together.
To my most recent insight which completed the picture for me...and stay with the stupid beginning. I LOVE the show Cheers. Tivo has brought that back to me and I watch it religiously. "You get 25 in the city?"...is one of the greatest lines ever. I digress. The first 5 years is the relationship between Sam and Diane. Two polar opposites with their own baggage who delight in making the other one miserable and living in that misery together...because of their own inner bullshit. Watching the show I realized something i didn't understand when I was 12...Sam wasn't wrong. Diane wasn't wrong. Sam and Diane was wrong.
That silly show got me to really think, and it really released my anger, my issues with her...not that I am saying that I want thing one to do with her as long as I may live, because we are so different...but I am over it. I have accepted my role in it...and i have accepted that if I was not participating there would have been no "us." That weight off my shoulders, off my soul, off my brain has been truly and utterly remarkable. I don't hate her anymore. I don't hate me anymore...for that episode at least. I don't feel an ounce of resentment and I don't feel an ounce of regret the way I did for so long. I used to curse the day I met her. Now, I don't. She wasn't wrong. I wasn't wrong. We were both NOT right. We were both not right for each other. That's it.
Dunno if this helped at all for anyone. I hope you are all a lot smarter than I am. I will say one thing to her, even though she isn't going to read this...thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you never told me what you told me, that you never loved me for a minute...I wouldn't have been able to work through my biggest problem...pride. Pride comes before the fall, they say. Well, hopefully this lesson will keep me from falling quite as much. I do thank you, and if you said it to hurt me or said it because it was the truth it doesn't matter. We must own our own feelings and I have finally owned mine.

CAUTION: TO THOSE WHO KNOW ME I AM SURE YOU THINK THIS DESCRIBES SOMEONE YOU KNOW! IT VERY WELL MAY NOT!!!!!! SO DO NOT JUMP TO CONCLUSIONS!! I AM OBVIOUSLY STUPID ENOUGH TO HAVE MULTIPLE SHITTY RELATIONSHIPS!!!! THANK YOU!

(P.S. Arsenal won the Amsterdam cup!!)

Love is patient, love is kind; it does not envy, it does not boast. It is not proud, it is not rude, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love, but the greatest of these is love.

This one is going to be brief...it is 3:30pm and I am still smarting from my second Birthday celebration.

I just wanted to thank everyone who has made this great, I really do. Almost everyone in my life, from family to friends, went out of there way to do something very cool for me. Next weekend, after moving a few others will get together and end it in my favorite place in LV.

To all of you I just wanted to say a heartfelt thanks and it was an amazing blur of drinks, live music, boxing, clubs and bars. I spent 11 dollars the whole weekend and last night. Now THAT is a good group of friends.

I was reminded in a big way of WHY I love this town...and the many people I have to stick around for...and the lesson was not lost on me. Despite the fact that I was lost in a sea of beer, vodka and neon.

Thank you!

People say they love truth, but in reality they want to believe that which they love is true. - Robert J. Ringer

Nothing Ventured Nothing Lost

I don't have much to say...or so it feels that way right now.

My first birthday weekend starts soon...and this is going to be great. I am fucking psyched. Concert, VIP drinking, and more drinks.

Next weekend, my second birthday weekend...the benefits of having your b'day in the middle of the week...should suck. I have a friend moving in, which is great, but moving fucking sucks...and helping this toolbox move his shit in 107 degree weather fucking BLOWS!!! The good is that the man will be buying me some heavy drinks. HEAVY drinks.

I have made a decision...and very good decision...I have turned down the job in Nashville Tennessee...and here I stay...in Las Vegas. I am happy. The money would have been nice, I won't lie...but I am sick. I am nuts. I am crazy. I love this town. I love this place. I want to stay and I want to keep on soaking up the great Las Vegas rays. This town is perfect for me right now, so I will stay. I am going to stay for at least 14 months. I will sign my next lease in the next week or so. I am moving, and that sucks...one month after my friend moves in...and I am not very good with all of this moving shit. I fucking hate it. Everyone hates moving, but I HATE moving.

Vegas is weird. It either repels you or it draws you in. I am addicted. So, I have pushed all of my chips in and I am hoping that it pays off. It is hard to look around this valley, see the 330 days of sun a year, and think that it is a bad thing. In the end, you need to be happy...you need to do what you think is right, what is best for you, what feels like the best decision. That is where I am. Physically, mentally and emotionally I have been very, very happy here. Why leave that to move to some hick town?

Writing is stalling, because of all of this shit, but I am back on it this weekend. I just don't know what is wrong with me.

Update: I was asked where I am in fantasy baseball...good question...8th place. I am getting fucking shit on right now...and that isn't going to change. I am losing my fantasy mojo.

My mom is sending Tastycakes to me...amen! The greatest food in the history of the world. Don't send money, don't send cards....send Tastycakes.


All mortals tend to turn into the things they are pretending to be. - C.S. Lewis.

Cesc la vie

What a great day...or night as it were.

Cesc Fabregas has decided to turn down a bid from Real Madrid, the Yankees of the soccer world, to stay with Arsenal for at least another year. Happy Days.

I am back from my brief trip to Nashville. Nashville is different. I would say this...Nashville is to Las Vegas as Beetlejuice is to Andre the Giant. It is so unbelievably different it is strange to think they are in the same country. Nashville is lush, green, humid and filled with hicks. It was total culture shock. Put it to you this way...there is not ONE modern rock station in ALL of Nashville. There is 152 country stations and two classic rock stations. The newest rock station I heard was AC/DC. It was crazy. The city is beautiful and the suburbs are very ritzy in an old southern kind of way. There are big houses out there. I saw Titan's stadium, which is RIGHT downtown. It was very cool. Oh...great BBQ...even in the airport!

I could kayfabe you all for what the fuck I was doing there, but I will tell you. I went for a job interview, a very good job, a VERY good job and VERY well paid. A big advance in my present career...and could be a good thing for my desired career. I have to be honest...I am not sure what I will do if they offer it to me...because I will tell you all something kind of crazy...I love Las Vegas, and I am not sure a very, very sizable offer to leave would actually get me out of here. I am one of those sick fucks that love Las Vegas. So many "locals" hate this city, but they came here, and many do stay. I want to stay, I just realize that in my industry and with the pay scale compared to the cost of living, it isn't the best place to be. That being said, this city is just too much fun to walk away from. If the offer was made to me, I am not sure what i would do. I really don't know. We will see...

Being a huge White Stripes mark as I am, this album review is necessary. Icky Thump could be the best album yet from a very good band. Jack and Meg have taken their bluesy rock sound and added some great twists. It is worth a listen if you are a fan. Good toe tapping, driving down the road singing to yourself type album.

Still basking in the glow of my book title being free. That has really reinvigorated me. My novel writing has been slow, it has been labored, and it hasn't been fun. That has really changed for me. I read and edited much of what I have done on the trip...and I liked it. It is slightly disjointed and needs some rewrites...but it is something I am proud of...and that is nice. I am going to start writing again with a renewed vigor.

Despite requests the story of July 4th ends with what I wrote last.

"Burn Notice" is very disappointing. USA network has one writer and he writes series after series after series about someone who is wacky in the law profession. Detective Monk, psychics, and now spies. The show could have been a dark, funny, action packed series in the vein of Sopranos and The Shield. A spy gets fired, is pissed, and is trying to find out what happened, who did it and a way to get back in...that could be really good. Add an alcoholic ex-spy who still kind of works with the feds. A former spy girlfriend. A fucked up mother. A dead abusive father. Yet to be seen brother. that could have been good. Now it is some wacky, idiotic bunch of family friendly crap.

Big events in plan this weekend...another great LV weekend...

Absence diminishes commonplace passions and enhances great ones. - French Proverb

Because I know a pimp...

...I was able to see two movies this week for free. So here is my view from the retarded isle...

1) Live Free or Die Hard - I went into this movie with absolutely no expectations whatsoever...if it sucked...who cares...but if it was good...great. Well, for 90% of the movie it was excellent, and I mean EXCELLENT! Now I will qualify "excellent" as a great mindless summer action movie. To put it in better perspective I thought that Die Hard 2 was horrible and Die Hard 3 was virtually unwatchable. This installment of Die Hard was more like the first one. Very good story (if you don't think too hard), excellent action, good acting, good humor. Two big problems:
a) The ending almost ruins the movie. I won't blow it for you...but F-15 vs. John McClain in an 18 wheeler...and the truck wins. What the fuck???
b) The story with his daughter was a little flimsy.
All in all, if you want to go see a good old fashioned 80's style summer adult action film...this is a good one...now...for a bad one...

2) Transformers - As a child of the 80's...I LOVED the Transformers. From a child all the way into High School...many a great afternoon, later on usually high with my cousin Rich, I watched the Transformers. The Decepticons vs. Autobots was a fucking great storyline. Even in cartoons the show and the storyline was rather dark. Megatron. Optimus Prime. Bonecrusher. Bumble Bee. Fucking great times. I know what you are thinking...Transformers + CGI = Thy name is Heaven...only if your idea of Heaven is really, really, really, low.
The movie is shit. For many reasons...such as:
a) First and foremost the movie doesn't know what it wants to be. Does it want to be a kids movie or a movie for us 30 year olds who watched the show as a kid? It is conflicted and it really hurts the film. One one hand they say "shit" a few times and they have a girl who is so hot it makes a straight man's brain boil running around in cute little outfits. On the other hand, the violence is boring cartoonish type violence, the story line is light and fluffy, and there are too many characters brought in for comic relief and just seem idiotic, not funny.
b) Again, the characters. They turn the Secretary of Defense into a buffoon. They have a top secret government agent (played by the great John Turturro), who was a fucking idiot...not funny, not interesting, not necessary to the plot, and was a TOTAL FUCKING JACKASS! It was a piss poor attempt at levity and wackiness to appeal to kids. It made no sense and was just ridiculous.
c) All of the Decepticons get killed way too easy. The movie negates the power of Megatron..not to get all Star Wars geek on you...but I am blogging so how cool can I be...but Megatron was a fucking bad ass in the cartoon and the movie he was a big giant bitch.
d) The action was boring. I turned to my friend in the middle and said..."is it just me or is this boring..." It was too light and fluffy. It was Superman 2 type violence.
e) One last point about the story. Superman Returns, Batman Begins, and all the Spiderman movies have ushered in an age of taking comic books seriously in films. It is the reason why Fantastic 4 doesn't work...it is too childish. This is the same problem. It is designed for kids...and it doesn't work. One comic book movie, Batman with Jack Nicholson and Michael Keaton walked that edge between cartoonish and dark...but that is the rare exception...look at the rest of the horrible Batman movies...it can't be replicated.

There is one plus. The two female leads of the Transformers are RIDICULOUSLY hot. Holy shit are they amazing. Two of the most beautiful women I have seen in a long time. Also, the budding romantic story worked better than the action part...which is HORRIBLE to say about an action movie.

More...

Good news...the new title for my first book...IS AVAILABLE!!! I am so thrilled I can't begin to explain it. I know have a title for 2 of the 4 books. Which makes me so happy I can't describe it. This is a good thing...a great thing.

My last blog garnered me a lot of responses. Funny responses and I thank you for that. Too funny. I was half out of my mind when I wrote it, and I am glad that I did. It was so bizarre because I don't remember virtually any of my dreams, but that was so fucking clear. I will announce to everyone, I will not tell anyone who X was in my dream...it doesn't really matter. The story was the most important thing. Thank you all for the messages...some wild stuff.

I fly off to Nashville for a couple days this week. Looking forward to it. Beer always tastes a little better on vacation. Country music makes me physically sick.

Celebrated the 4th of July in style...the birth of this wonderful country was consecrated with the SICKEST backyard fireworks show I have ever seen. The whole neighborhood was blocked off...kegs...12 different grills making different food...fun...friends...and great fireworks. It was one of the best Independence Day's ever.

July 5th I cursed the day everything was born...the country, me, Ethel Merman...never mind...but my hangover...as monumental as it was...really was worth it. A lot of strange events I am not going to type here...but I will say this to one of you who are reading this...I know you are pissed...but it is all your fault and if she is upset about me giving her a fake number...you deal with it...just tell her I was still drunk. I only wanted a ride home...that was it...

Oh, Arsenal Gunners...life without Henry starts this season...but the great Arsen Wenger singed Eduardo da Silva...another brilliant off the radar signing. Reports are Wenger will resign this week, and we will get some help in the right/centerback position. Need to make some free money, bet right now that Arsenal is in the top 3 of the premiership.


Knowing sorrow well, I learn to succor the distressed. - Virgil

Me, my brothers and Jennifer Aniston are on a road trip...

on a road trip. The craziest fucking road trip you have ever seen. Road trip to where, who cares? Banners, beers, bong hits, old trucks and supped up up buses. Eventually a few of my fraternity brothers, Jennifer Aniston, a stranger and me are in a honky tonk bar and motel. In a small back room, not much bigger than a walk in closet is a bar and the "smoking section." The front was a sleazy lounge with bad chairs and dirty couches. Large windows with no shades or blinds. The windows have a great view of the road. No one who works the lounge area seem to be around. It is late, very late. The only worker is in the bar section.
Jennifer Aniston, me, the stranger and a frat brother are hanging out. The other brothers are in the smoking section getting drunk. Aniston is clearly with my frat brother. They are hooking up while the stranger and I smoke a joint. Everyone is making small talk. The stranger asks my brother if he can make out with Jennifer. Strangely, with a sad look on his face he said ok. I laughed and said that is fucked up. They start to make out. I can't stop looking at my brother, call him X. X was heart broken. The two of them go at it for minutes. I finish the joint and walk for the bar. Disgusted. I laugh and have a good time for a while with the boys. I keep looking back and see the stranger taking more and more liberties with Jennifer Aniston.
The guys are laughing and having fun. I don't tell them about what is happening and they don't seem to notice. They notice our other brothers driving past the bar/motel with their huge banners and crazy antics. Crazy shit. I see the stranger and Aniston dry humping. I can't take it anymore. I walk out to the lounge and stare down at them. The stranger laughs. He asks X if he can "fuck the whore" in one of the rooms. X just nods. No fight. No craziness. They get up and I am stunned. I want to smash my beer bottle across his head. My blood is boiling. I turn to her and beg her not to go. She seems resigned that if X isn't going to say no, she won't either. Stranger is laughing. He is the only one.
I am furious with X so I go back to the smoking lounge and buy a pack of reds and a shot. Time passes. X disappears. I have no idea where he went and no desire to find out. I move out into the lounge. Tired of pretending like I am having fun. X shows up and sits across the lounge, which is huge. He won't be near me, he won't look at anyone. He is facing the wall. Fucking coward.
The rusty bell on side door to the motel makes a noise. Jennifer Aniston walks in. She is wearing a black hoodie with the hood up. I walk over towards her and she has tears in her eyes. "I should have listened to you," she repeated several times.
"Yeah, but don't worry about it. Out of all our 'whores on the road' stories yours is our favorite." She cries. I wonder if I should mention that I didn't tell anyone. Nah, too great of a line. She walks over towards him....then....

I WAKE UP! I am fucking sweating out this horrible fever and THIS is what my mind pushes out. What the fuck? Jennifer Aniston (mid-Friends, not now)??? My frat brothers circa 1994??? A sexually charged stranger??? Dingy hick, southern, seedy motel/bar???

If I wasn't tired and not feeling so well I would have written more.

Miserable Musings

A sad day in the storied history of the Arsenal Gunners. Thierry Henry has decided to leave the club. This will be a major blow to one of the top clubs in Europe, but not as bad as others are predicting. Rob Van Persie and Theo Walcott will be a very good front line for the Gunners...can they replace Henry...improbable...but absolutely possible.

After YEARS and YEARS of searching for a title for my first book...I think I have found it. I need to make sure that it hasn't been used...I am afraid to because I am sure that it has and I will be fucking crushed again.

I still can't write a word...well...not quite true...but true enough for now...I take my lumps with this shit and I am not about to open a whole new area to fuck on me.

Saw my Dad a few days ago for the first time in over a year. It was really great. He is doing so well I couldn't be more proud. We had a great talk and really got into things that needed to be talked about. Very frank, very open. It was extremely satisfying. Honesty is always that way.

TIVO has brought back an old friend...Cheers. The show is uproarious.

Bought a new Bukowski book....easily the greatest American poet.

Living alone for the first time in years has been a Godsend. A revitalization of the spirit. I just can't seem to figure out why I can't write...the novel. It was going along so well. Next week I might just force it a bit to see if I can get it going again...but I have a garage again...and that isn't almost as good...but it is good.

Been playing a lot of poker recently and I am getting pretty good. I really enjoy it, but I have come to the one inevitable conclusion to which all players succumb...sometimes unwillingly...it is 90% luck. You can't will the cards to do anything more than what they want to do...you can bluff and learn where and when to bet...but in the end...cards are the cards...and good hands make bad players better...

Just finished a Beckett novel...awe-inspiring.

The Yankees are losing...there is a God.

He who has health has hope; and he who has hope, has everything. - Arabian Proverb

Washing Bad The Taste Of Bad Italian...

The first sentence will tell you what a loser I am....

Ever since Sunday night I have been totally pissed off, borderline psychotic. The Sopranos ending was more than just a blow to me as a fan...but as a fan of good writing...despite my inability to do so. I will not even blog about the bullshit commercial reasons for why the ending was what it was (dvd sales with "alternate endings" and ticket sales to the Sopranos movie) or anything about the finale..except to say...I was really angry.

Tonight in an attempt to wash that memory out of my brain I turned off the phone, holed up inside, and planned to watch something to take my mind off of the horror I could not embrace...well...something wonderful happened....I checked my Tivo and found that I had recorded American Splendor...the story of Harvey Pekar...the famous comic book writer. Now, I am the first one to admit that I know NOTHING about comic books...happily so...but I had heard very good things about the movie, so I decided that I was going to give it a shot...what the fuck...I had seen the worse that pompous bullshit could offer...no, not this blog...well...not just this blog...so I decided to watch.

I can't begin to tell you how fucking great that movie is...wow...I was so blown away. I must admit that I am sucker for intelligent, off-beat, quirky, funny, dark, well acted subject matter...and boy did American Splendor have that in spades. I was moved. I laughed out loud. I shifted uncomfortably at the delightfully awkward exchanges. I smiled knowingly at the causticly dry humor. I was transfixed on his imperfections...and I nodded approvingly at his half-assed attempts to work on them with a surprising amount of heart. I try to never say that someone "should" or "has to" watch something...but this...this deserves to be seen.

I know some will say that pathetic to be moved by television...ignorant self-righteous idiots that refuse to understand that television is the modern day theater...but I am just happy to be moved at all.

There is only one corner of the universe you can be certain of improving, and that's your own self. - Aldous Huxley

Newsflash...

The last person on Earth who might have thought the world was fair...is now going to serve the next 40 days in prison.

I would just like to make 2 comments:

1) The girl doesn't need to be in jail. Paris Hilton may be an idiot, a whore, a drug abuser, a vapid asshole...but doesn't that describe most of us...or what most of us would like to be. A bubble headed idiot with no conceivable idea of the way the real world works. Wouldn't we all love to be this blissfully ignorant. Still, that is no reason to put her in jail. I hear people saying that "if it was me I would be in jail..." actually, you wouldn't. According to newspapers, most people wouldn't spend one day in jail for her offense. She was caught driving on a suspended license twice....well...sorry to disappoint the Paris Hilton haters (to which I am one...not for the money..but because she obviously don't swallow and that is a bad message for all young girls) but you wouldn't go to jail. The LA County jail system is overwhelmed...so throwing someone into jail for this offense is almost never going to happen.

2) Why do people want this madness to continue? So she can be more famous? So we the taxpayers can spend more fucking money on this idiot? No, it is because somewhere in our brains we want the world to be fair...well guess what...IT ISN'T FUCKING FAIR!!! People work hard to get more money so life will be tilted to their favor...that is called capitalism...that is the United States of America. Paris isn't going to jail because she broke the law. Paris is going to jail because the celebrity obsessed losers in this country hate her for what she has...and hate themselves for what they don't have.

I would love to write some long diatribe about the perversions of justice and the inequalities between the rich and the poor...BUT I HAVE A BRAIN...and I am not going to type out some bullshit that would make people feel better about their own situation. I would also like to be rich enough one day that the laws of this, and every other country, don't apply to me...so that I can do whatever the fuck I want and have no one call me on it. The United States of America promises us two things...if you are poor you will get fucked at every turn...if you are rich you will live your life without much worry. Amen! It gives us middle class folks something to aspire towards...autonomy.

If Paris and her fellow celebrity simpletons are guilty of anything, it is that they pushed it too far and too public. There used to be an understanding between the public and the rich and famous. The public would let them do whatever they wanted, and in turn they would let the public keep paying for their expensive lifestyle. It was fair. Now the excesses of the rich suddenly turn our stomachs? This is more than just disingenuous...it is complete and total fucking bullshit. Those rag mags like the Star and Enquire, the "mainstream" rag mags like People, and websites like Perez Hilton are a multi billion dollar a year business!! Jay Leno got his biggest ratings when Hugh Grant came on after being with a hooker. Celebrity tell all books are constantly best sellers. The American public is obsessed with celebrity and we love watching celebrities fuck up...people will pay to see it happen, they will pay to read about it, they will pay to revel in someone's misfortune...especially if they are wealthy and famous. Now suddenly everyone is going to act like we should treat celebrities "the same as regular people." GO FUCK YOURSELVES if you have heard yourself say this stupid phrase.

Who are these "regular people"? Are these "regular people" living in Watts? South Central? Cabrini Green? North Philly? OR do we mean middle class folks...like most of ourselves..the assholes who would spend their time emailing talk shows in the middle of the day? I have af eeling that the truly poor have a hard enough time and seen enough inequity not to give a flying fuck about Paris Hilton or any of that shit. They are just tying to survive...while middle class America gets their panties in a twist...because they are closer to that life of luxury than they are the life of abject poverty and daily violence.

This is middle class bullshit. Plain and simple. A nation full of medicated, therapy going, babies who just can't accept that Marx was right...money talks. Everything else doesn't mean a fucking thing...and because they are close enough to smell favoritism...but can't touch it...they get mad...they get jealous...they want revenge.

I leave you with a part of my favorite poem I have posted here before, and when my audio player works (myspace fucking sucks!) you can hear...this just keeps running through my head when I think about this stupidity.

beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average seeks average
but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody

Self-Unawareness

Welcome all to the Memorial Day installment of my inane thoughts and self-serving observation. I am sure that you have all been waiting with breathless anticipation....well...sit back, relax and get ready to lose some brain cells.

It has been strange recently for me. I have had some very nice and thoughtful comments thrown my way...which can only prove one of two things.
1) I only know idiots.
2) The world as we know it is coming to an end...and soon the rise of apes will finally be upon us. Something I have been predicting since a small child. (not really, but when they do take over I am hoping for a cushy job enslaving my fellow humans.)

Three people in the last 2 weeks have commented on how well I know myself. What a "strong sense of self" I possess. I sat down to write a typically dry, cynical, borderline caustic bunch of bullshit that would only serve to make me feel better by being self-deprecating. None of it would be particularly true, it would just pull from my inherent negativity. To those people I say thank you, I really appreciate the compliment, and if it was meant that way or not, that is how I am taking it.
I am not sure how much I know myself, I guess as much as anyone else. I know what I want and what I don't want...but that isn't the part that interests me today...or how I have come to be this way...or how depending on the person and the situation my (like anyone else) opinions can be principled, conscientious, and determined...or...if you disagree...stubborn, intractable, or contumacious....those topics are fun and worth writing...but not today.
What is interesting I think about truly knowing yourself...for as much as it is possible to know one's self...is the feelings often associated with understanding. You think that when you get to know yourself, someone else, and/or your surroundings that it will fill you with a sense of peace. Happiness. Contentment. Why not? Reaching a level of understanding should bring out a sense of pride, of accomplishment, of well-being. It doesn't. Or I guess I should say it hasn't. When you know what you want, when you know what will fulfill you, bring you contentment...and it hasn't happened, can't happen or just plain old won't happen...despair...anomie...restlessness...despondency. That knowledge, that understanding now is the root of all pain. You begin to ask...is it better that I don't know what I need? Would ignorance truly be bliss? I am sure that a lack of the fundamental understanding it takes to truly be cognizant of your surroundings can be disconcerting...always feeling like there is more...but what...could be maddening...or maybe being so alienated from thoughts, feelings and basic understanding of self would prevent someone from even feeling like there is more. Isn't that truly bliss...having no ability to comprehend any anything past the immediate desire. Now of course this is self-destructive any only going to lead to immense problems down the line...but they don't know that...they can't see it...they don't understand. They don't even know that there is more. (If there truly is more, but that is another discussion.)
Or what about those passive-aggressive people who KNOW what is that they want, but cannot or will not express it. They hear what they want to say, but it never comes out. It is blocked. It is stuck somewhere in their deep, deep, deep seeded psychosis. The manifestation of their inability to describe what they need is the epitome of sickness. Their petty ways, their insincere words and deeds vibrate so loudly in their soul that Helen Keller laughs at how easy it is to see. These men and women are the warped of the warped. They have the understanding of what they want to say...so much so that they just want to scream it at the top of their lungs...but they don't. They stifle their words and feelings...often times because of an overbearing parental figure...usually their mother...made it impossible for them to speak. Impossible for them to express any feeling that could even remotely be considered negative or different. Heaven forbid what they have to say is confrontational or could spark a response less than pleasant. Emotionally mute from fear. Horrible.
I know full well that...and this may be a surprise...that I talk to much, write too much and feel the need to open that emotional release valve and let it out...but I would rather live too much than not live enough...and running away from what is inside of you is the hallmark of existing...and existing ain't fucking living.

Second, people have actually been very complimentary of this blog...more so in the last few weeks, and I must say thank you. I very rarely go back and read it, but I must admit I am entertained...but then again I am easily amused.

I would like to share an honest personal observation. I, for as long as I can remember, have liked politics. I like reading about it, always voted when I felt like it, watched debates, read articles and followed the candidates. As bad as it got, I embraced the horror like a good citizen...but I just can't do it this year....or last...or the one before this one. LV is easy...vote for Goodman and everything else falls into place. On a national level it is much more complicated, and it seems as if the worst of humanity are now politicians, lawyers and in the insurance industry. It is just too sad to watch. Lady Liberty getting gang raped by CEO's, Special Interest Groups, and the economic top 1% isn't my idea of fun. I would rather watch a corpse rot while listening to Milli Vanilli and having elective limb amputation with a rusty saw.

Random Thoughts:


I have hit a serious snag in my writing and I am completely fucking blocked. I can't get out of it. I have alot on my mind right now, shit I would rather not type until later...it would be too reactionary and convoluted if I try to explain it now. I will just say that I am standing at a crossroads...where i have to get serious about a career I don't hate but don't want...joining the billions of meat puppets...and stop concentrating so much on my dreams...or keep one foot in both worlds not really giving enough time to excel in either. Whatever.

I saw the movie The Jacket...very good. I am sure most of you have seen it, but if not...it is very good Hitchcockian type macabre thriller. Far from perfect, but the performances are amazing.

HDTV - Makes regualr TV's look like the black and white tv I won in 6th grade for selling spices...yes you read that last part right...fuck you.

Muse's album is good, but the song Starlight is fucking awesome.

Liddel lost in 1:53. Predictable, but shitty.

I will leave you with a quote...finally something worth reading...and very apropos:

O madness amorous! O trembling!
O to escape utterly from others’ anchors and holds!
To drive free! To love free! To dash reckless and dangerous!
To court destruction with taunts—with invitations! – Walt Whitman

Temporary Silent Lucidity

I have not fallen off the face of the earth, I am here. I have been busy, and lazy, and writing my book...so this blog has suffered...and you have not...but now it is your time.

Where to begin...Hostess fruit pies...flat screen tv's...NFL draft...TIVO...job...writing...tree toed sloths...casino jumping...weight loss...subways...Arsenal...red drinks...red rocks...gambling...long lost friends...Sopranos...

Ok...I am not sure how long this will be...but I will start at the most important....

NFL Draft - Cowboys made a great second round pick, and got Cleveland's first round pick next year. Brilliant. Speaking of brilliant...Cleveland had the most ballsy draft in years...and I think the next 10 years of the franchise will depend on the success of this draft.

Arsenal...another 4th place finish in the Premiership, which as we all know once again qualifies for the Champions League. So all is not lost, but they need to improve next year.

Sopranos...I hate the Sopranos...it is like watching Marilyn Monroe strip...now...way after her prime...and dead. The show is trying, but it has lost its way so badly that I am not sure if it can ever come back. The mob artsy? As ridiculous as that sounds...that is what we are trapped in and even with 3 episodes left it still can't let go of the artsy fartsy bullshit. Frustrating. It is like Mike Hammer do ballet...Sam Spade baking pies..Phillip Marlowe wearing high heels and lipstick...it just isn't right...it is too far from character...from real life...to make the story truly compelling. You can put a silk dress on a pig...but it is still a pig...the mob is the mob no matter how much David Chase doesn't want it to be. We all search for understanding...but Chase is seriously reaching...and it shows.

TIVO...greatest invention ever.

If anyone reading this cares...I heard from Latte and hopefully we are going to meet up soon. Maybe even this weekend...which is very cool.

To do the useful thing, to say the courageous thing, to contemplate the beautiful thing: that is enough for one man's life. - T. S. Eliot

The Thursday night crew had a rough outing. It stung, and stung bad. Friday was not an easy day. So, I decided that after a few beers with a friend, I needed take out and a few good movies. The difference was amazing. One of the worst movies I have ever seen. One of the best movies I have ever seen. Two complete ends of the spectrum.

First up...Saw III. I can't even begin to tell you what a piece of fucking shit this movie was. Holy shit was this movie bad. In every measurable way this movie was fucking terrible. Bad acting. Bad directing. Bad concept. Bad execution of a bad concept. Bad writing. All of that being said...it committed the cardinal sin for any movie...especially a horror movie...it was FUCKING BORING! Holy fucking shit was that movie boring. I was bored out of my mind inside 15 minutes. I love horror movies. My love of horror movies started when I was 7 years old. It never ended. I have seen virtually ever horror movie ever...Saw I was amazing...one of the best. Saw II is up and down...somewhat boring in the middle. Saw III is just terrible...Friday the 13th Part 5 bad. Pumpkinhead 3 bad. Die Hard Dracula bad...at least that was funny....this was just terrible. No other words for it.

The second movie I saw is honestly one of the best, most underrated movies I have ever seen. Stranger Than Fiction. It is very possible that I loved the movie because I fancy myself a writer...a terrible writer...but a writer nonetheless. The movie is very funny, very touching, and absolutely original. Well acted. Good Directing. Very good Director of Photography. I was blown away. I can't recommend it high enough.

Watching the movie made me think of something. For years I have bitched and complained about the dark side of writing...because it is my nature. I have a been frustrated with my inabilities, limitations, and mental constraints. The parts of this process that I am not good at have really been the primary themes of these blogs...so I want to say something...I love writing. I may suck at it, probably do, but I love writing. I love sitting in front of the keyboard and slowly melting into another world...and looking back at where that world has taken me. I am not really sure that writers lead, I think that they are led...at least I am led by something somewhere inside of me that I can't fully explain...and I love it...I love that feeling...I love that journey...I love that I get in the driver seat and before I know it I am just looking out the windows from the backseat...sometimes completely in awe of what I see rushing past me.

There is a high that comes creating something, something new, something unique. When I write, there are times when I finish a chapter and it is like I was drunk...the big moments are clear but the minute by minute recollection isn't there...it is like my brain is on autopilot. Those are the best chapters. The ones where you are most conscience of what I am writing aren't as good, aren't as natural as the ones where my brain just takes over and my hands start moving without effort. Enough...thank you to Stranger Than Fiction for making me think about how much I love writing, and for making a great movie.

The beauty of the soul shines out when a man bears with composure one heavy mischance after another, not because he does not feel them, but because he is a man of high and heroic temper. - Aristotle