Glenn Beck's newest incarnation as a preacher dedicated to "Restoring Honor" to America would be funny if it weren't so horrifying. Even pretending to be a "Good Christian" or, in his case, a "Good Mormon" doesn't excuse his behavior. How can a man whose whole professional life is "bearing false witness" claim to be any kind of Christian at all? Glenn Beck preaching from his tower of libel. How ridiculous.
I'm not a Christian. I don't claim to be. But I know that telling lies about other people is a seriously fucked up thing to do. It violates not only the whole "false witness" thing, but it seems also to directly conflict with Christ's command to "Do undo others..." The so-called "Golden Rule."
Folks like Beck and Palin possess no true moral compass. Anything goes in what they see as "defense" of their religion. Even if it means violating the tenets of that religion.
I guess if your faith required you stand on your roof at dawn and yell "I'm fucking special!" to the world at large with the most expensive P.A. system you could afford, you might feel as though we were oppressing you if we yelled back "Shut the fuck up!"
Gays, humanists, pagans, atheists, and the agnostic ask one thing of the Christians. Since we don't tell you how to run your religion, don't presume to tell us how to live our lives. You don't have the right. Don't tell our kids that science isn't real. Don't tell gays they can't marry. Tend to your religion and stay out of our secularism and we'll be good.
Because, well, if there's any such thing as "special rights," it's you folks chasing them. The right to tell people of a different political/religious/sexual persuasion what they can and cannot do. The right to demonize those who believe differently than you. The right to yell "I'm fucking special!" any time you want.
No one gets special rights. Not you, not anyone. How's that for a compromise?
A little parity would go a long way toward "restoring honor" in this country.
Thursday, September 02, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
It's On!
So...
We're hearing cries (from the media and various alleged "pundits"--well, the usual suspects, really) for "unity" and "an end to partisan bickering."
"Bickering" can be defined as "pointless" arguments with no purpose behind them. The American Heritage Dictionary defines it as "A petty quarrel; a squabble."
Oh, we're not bickering. In fact, it's offensive that anyone would suggest such a thing.
We're in a fight for the future of all of us. Not just Americans, but the whole human race. This isn't between some school kids calling each other names just to prove how tough they are. This isn't a sitcom marriage. It's a VERY serious disagreement about the rights and responsibilities of us, as U.S. citizens, as men and women, as human beings.
Anyone who calls it a mere "squabble" doesn't take it seriously enough. Not by a long shot.
We'll make peace with the Republicans. On OUR terms. As soon as they surrender their racist, sexist, homophobic, holier than thou certainty that THEY are right and WE are wrong. As soon as they apologize for calling us traitors, or allowing others who claim to represent them to do it. As soon as they apologize for branding people like Natalie Maines, Dick Durbin, Tom Dashle, and others as "traitors" or "terrorist sympathizers" for disagreeing with former President George W. Bush on the way to handle the so-called "War On Terror."
We'll bury the hatchet as soon as they repudiate the self-centered, self-aggrandizing, and inflexible "conservative" notion of "voodoo economics." As soon as they recognize that not everyone in America gets an even shot at success, and as soon as they join us in fighting to change that. As soon as they step up to defend the middle class, and the helping hand the middle class extends downward to those in need. As soon as they realize that the ultra-rich shouldn't be able to decide for the rest of us what our priorities should be.
We'll shake hands with the Republicans as soon as they admit that their religion, and their religious book, should NOT be the answer to all arguments about the nature of the cosmos, the history of the human race, and whether gays have the right to live in peace. We wouldn't put up with the Taliban here in the United States, and we will NOT put up with similar inflexibility from them either.
We'll kiss and make up when they recognize that we have a duty to this planet, to all the other forms of life that live here, and that we are both responsible for the damage we've caused and for striving to fix as much of it as we can. When they roll up their sleeves and stand beside us, working to make this world a better place again. When they too decide that the long-term fate of their children and grandchildren are more important than short-term profits.
We'll play nice as soon as they stop insulting us, insulting our intelligence, treating us like second-class citizens, and tell people like Rush Limbaugh, Bill O'Reilly, Ann Coulter, Sean Hannity, Glen Beck, and their ilk that they DO NOT speak for them. As soon as they make it clear they DON'T want us jailed, or killed, for the crime of disagreeing with them or the actions of the previous administration. As soon as they stand up and say to their representatives that they respect the Constitution and don't respect anyone who refuses to abide by it.
We'll work for "unity" as soon as they repudiate all the evil that has been done in their names--as soon as they call for justice for those who've been ignored in Katrina's aftermath, those who've been sent off to war to die for a lie, those who've been turned out on the street because we have other priorities than protecting the most vulnerable among us.
We'll quit firing back at them when they set aside their unreasoning, racially based hatred of President Obama, their insistence that a clear centrist Democrat is a "radical" "socialist" "Muslim." When they stop referring to him by his middle name to incite even more suspicion and distrust. When, in fact, they stop being such racist knee-jerk assholes.
Until then...
No quarter given, no quarter asked.
It's on.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Back in action
Yep. It's been a while since I've posted anything. The last few months have been, if anything, extremely wearying. Working on finding a new place, getting all our ducks in a row for that, doing the shitty day job thing. Health has been better in general, now that I'm going to the gym all the time. Picked up a copy of the Dragon Age expansion and had to beat it. You know how it is.
Haven't been doing much writing in general. Or reading, for that matter. Just putting out fires on Facebook responding to Reich Wing smears, disinformation, and spin. Started a FB group to deal damage to such people. Calling it "Two-Fisted Liberals." Because we'll fight back where others won't.
Other than that, not much to report.
Haven't been doing much writing in general. Or reading, for that matter. Just putting out fires on Facebook responding to Reich Wing smears, disinformation, and spin. Started a FB group to deal damage to such people. Calling it "Two-Fisted Liberals." Because we'll fight back where others won't.
Other than that, not much to report.
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Left of Liberty
When most people are confronted with the word "Libertarianism" they tend to think "Oh, a Republican who smokes pot." The Libertarian Party, for example, is full of men and women who don't really understand the purpose of government. They expect somehow that a group of privileged white men from the earliest days of our founding as a nation could possibly have imagined the world as it exists today, and yet, if they could have, would never have contemplated any possible need to expand upon both the authority and responsibility of the federal government.
Clearly absurd. And even if it wasn't, we can hardly take a group of men who saw both women and blacks as unworthy of inclusion as citizens as the final arbiters of what is right and just in America.
We just can't.
It could be said that these Libertarians are Republicans who haven't been corrupted by the insidious poison of Christian Dominionism, and haven't yet been put into a position where it was in the least useful for the powers-that-be to purchase their loyalty. By powers-that-be, I mean, of course, those who serve what Eisenhower (often seen as the last honest Republican President) called the "Military-Industrial Complex"). They still operate under the illusion (or delusion) that in the society they imagine money and the power it grants would not unduly influence the democratic process. They believe somehow that they could stay above corporate control, that "liberty," as they imagine it, would belong to all men and women and the government would not be necessary to keep certain forces in check.
It is idiocy, of course, to imagine any such thing. Government, if it could be to have one single purpose above all, exists to protect the weak from the powerful. They ignore a basic truth. As Frank Herbert put it, "It's not so much that power corrupts, or that absolute power corrupts absolutely, but that power attracts the corruptible".
We've lived in a world much like the one they envision. We knew it as the Wild West. Power tended to gather in one place, resulting in the creation of what we grew to refer to as "robber barons." These were men who ruled their little fiefdoms with an iron hand, who hired gunslingers and other thugs to do their dirty work--to intimidate, batter, or sometimes even kill those who would stand in their way. This mindset existed through the turn of the century, and resulted in some of the fierce battles during the formation of trade unions which were born in an attempt to, among other things, free individuals and their families from the tyrannies of these robber barons and their "company towns."
Americans are often accused of being forgetful, of not really having a sense of history. And, fact is, this has some basis in fact. But one might also say that we've all too often become the victims of historical revisionism. Hollywood's version of history becomes "real" to us because most of us aren't inspired or entertained by the way real history was introduced to us. Given that we now have conservative (read regressive or even reactionary) folks trying to rewrite our history books to negate the influence of Thomas Jefferson and James Madison in the foundation of our country, some understanding of our true history is vital at this point in time.
We have to truly understand where we started and what we went through to get to where we are now.
All of this aside, there is another brand of Libertarianism you don't hear much about. It's because it has no official party and, in fact, represents perhaps an even smaller number of people. If that's even possible.
I'm talking about left-libertarianism.
If liberals and Democrats are hard to herd, imagine trying to collect and count the heads of the left libertarians, those who hold corporate America and the vast bureaucracy of our government in roughly equal distrust and disdain. That perhaps understand the necessity of both, but believe they should be at best adversaries rather than any sort of allies. That government should, first and foremost, concern itself with what corporate America does because where individuals may affect the lives of those closest to them, corporations can and do affect the lives of millions. (Ask anyone currently living on the Gulf Coast).
Left liberatarians may understand the need, for example, to spend money on public service announcements to promote public safety. But they may also question the passing of laws to enforce certain behaviors, particularly ones that involve the choice of ostensibly reasoning adults. They may question the ethics of sin taxes, particularly with regards to addictive substances such as nicotine. Should the state directly benefit from the sale of a product as addictive as tobacco? Is this not a conflict of interest?
The questions important to a left-liberatarian are probably as numerous as there are left-libertarians to ask them. Why are mega-churches that meddle in politics allowed their tax-free status? Why are car insurance companies allowed to run credit checks to determine rates? Why are credit scores used as a method of pre-employments screening? Why are adults required to wear seat belts?
Left liberatarians are often as frustrated by the nanny state as the daddy state. Don't tell us to cut our grass, or our hair. Don't tell us we can't brew our own beer, or distill our own alcohol, or grow a little pot to keep us mellow and content in the dead of winter. Don't tell us we have to jump through the corporate hoops to get a job, get (mandated) car insurance, or a bank account. Don't tell us we have to play along when we know we're being ripped off or poisoned just because BP or its siblings owns our local politicans.
We believe that if government was doing its job, we'd all have decent medical care, a decent education, and fruitful, somewhat fulfilling employment. And the corporations would be dutiful citizens paying their share of the taxes, obeying the laws that pertain to them, and be held accountable if found to be playing fast and loose with the rules of probability and the laws of nature.
And the media wouldn't be able to pretend that it could call lies "news" and that asking a preacher or pundit or career criminal about evolution or other scientific matters is being "fair and balanced." They wouldn't get to pretend that crazy as an outhouse rat was an equal point of view to actually knowing what the heck you're talking about.
Businesses are licensed under government authority to even exist. We, as free Americans, need no such licensing. We're born with the rights enumerated in our Constitution, acknowledged by our founders, and defended by generations of soldiers, sailors, and flyers. It is we, the living breathing Americans who have the right to exist here, for whom America was intended. NOT the corporations. They exist on our sufferance. Our sufferance. Our, as in "We, the People."
We do not accept the clearly bought and paid-for ruling of the so-called Supreme Court insisting that corporations are, indeed, people. People are born, breathe, grow, fall in love, grow old, and die. There is, and has never been, any such thing as an immortal person. Thus, clearly, corporations are not people.
The Tea Partiers and their ilk are prone to such expressions as "give us back our country." Yet they don't seem at all aware who's actually taken their country from them. They blame "foreigners," or, even more amusing, "socialists," (as if the socialists have ever been of any real consequence in this country), when clearly the perpetrators of Grand Theft America are the Artificial People so recently annointed by the Surpreme Court.
You folks want to rail against something, rail against that. Then the rest of us might come to the conclusion you actually have a clue.
In the meantime we left-libertarians will be over here. Minding our own business. And the business of business, which is also our business. Because we're the real Americans... flesh, bone, and blood humans born of woman. No matter where that woman originally came from. As long as she was human, it's American enough for us. Or at least deserve to be more than any "artificial" person ever will.
Clearly absurd. And even if it wasn't, we can hardly take a group of men who saw both women and blacks as unworthy of inclusion as citizens as the final arbiters of what is right and just in America.
We just can't.
It could be said that these Libertarians are Republicans who haven't been corrupted by the insidious poison of Christian Dominionism, and haven't yet been put into a position where it was in the least useful for the powers-that-be to purchase their loyalty. By powers-that-be, I mean, of course, those who serve what Eisenhower (often seen as the last honest Republican President) called the "Military-Industrial Complex"). They still operate under the illusion (or delusion) that in the society they imagine money and the power it grants would not unduly influence the democratic process. They believe somehow that they could stay above corporate control, that "liberty," as they imagine it, would belong to all men and women and the government would not be necessary to keep certain forces in check.
It is idiocy, of course, to imagine any such thing. Government, if it could be to have one single purpose above all, exists to protect the weak from the powerful. They ignore a basic truth. As Frank Herbert put it, "It's not so much that power corrupts, or that absolute power corrupts absolutely, but that power attracts the corruptible".
We've lived in a world much like the one they envision. We knew it as the Wild West. Power tended to gather in one place, resulting in the creation of what we grew to refer to as "robber barons." These were men who ruled their little fiefdoms with an iron hand, who hired gunslingers and other thugs to do their dirty work--to intimidate, batter, or sometimes even kill those who would stand in their way. This mindset existed through the turn of the century, and resulted in some of the fierce battles during the formation of trade unions which were born in an attempt to, among other things, free individuals and their families from the tyrannies of these robber barons and their "company towns."
Americans are often accused of being forgetful, of not really having a sense of history. And, fact is, this has some basis in fact. But one might also say that we've all too often become the victims of historical revisionism. Hollywood's version of history becomes "real" to us because most of us aren't inspired or entertained by the way real history was introduced to us. Given that we now have conservative (read regressive or even reactionary) folks trying to rewrite our history books to negate the influence of Thomas Jefferson and James Madison in the foundation of our country, some understanding of our true history is vital at this point in time.
We have to truly understand where we started and what we went through to get to where we are now.
All of this aside, there is another brand of Libertarianism you don't hear much about. It's because it has no official party and, in fact, represents perhaps an even smaller number of people. If that's even possible.
I'm talking about left-libertarianism.
If liberals and Democrats are hard to herd, imagine trying to collect and count the heads of the left libertarians, those who hold corporate America and the vast bureaucracy of our government in roughly equal distrust and disdain. That perhaps understand the necessity of both, but believe they should be at best adversaries rather than any sort of allies. That government should, first and foremost, concern itself with what corporate America does because where individuals may affect the lives of those closest to them, corporations can and do affect the lives of millions. (Ask anyone currently living on the Gulf Coast).
Left liberatarians may understand the need, for example, to spend money on public service announcements to promote public safety. But they may also question the passing of laws to enforce certain behaviors, particularly ones that involve the choice of ostensibly reasoning adults. They may question the ethics of sin taxes, particularly with regards to addictive substances such as nicotine. Should the state directly benefit from the sale of a product as addictive as tobacco? Is this not a conflict of interest?
The questions important to a left-liberatarian are probably as numerous as there are left-libertarians to ask them. Why are mega-churches that meddle in politics allowed their tax-free status? Why are car insurance companies allowed to run credit checks to determine rates? Why are credit scores used as a method of pre-employments screening? Why are adults required to wear seat belts?
Left liberatarians are often as frustrated by the nanny state as the daddy state. Don't tell us to cut our grass, or our hair. Don't tell us we can't brew our own beer, or distill our own alcohol, or grow a little pot to keep us mellow and content in the dead of winter. Don't tell us we have to jump through the corporate hoops to get a job, get (mandated) car insurance, or a bank account. Don't tell us we have to play along when we know we're being ripped off or poisoned just because BP or its siblings owns our local politicans.
We believe that if government was doing its job, we'd all have decent medical care, a decent education, and fruitful, somewhat fulfilling employment. And the corporations would be dutiful citizens paying their share of the taxes, obeying the laws that pertain to them, and be held accountable if found to be playing fast and loose with the rules of probability and the laws of nature.
And the media wouldn't be able to pretend that it could call lies "news" and that asking a preacher or pundit or career criminal about evolution or other scientific matters is being "fair and balanced." They wouldn't get to pretend that crazy as an outhouse rat was an equal point of view to actually knowing what the heck you're talking about.
Businesses are licensed under government authority to even exist. We, as free Americans, need no such licensing. We're born with the rights enumerated in our Constitution, acknowledged by our founders, and defended by generations of soldiers, sailors, and flyers. It is we, the living breathing Americans who have the right to exist here, for whom America was intended. NOT the corporations. They exist on our sufferance. Our sufferance. Our, as in "We, the People."
We do not accept the clearly bought and paid-for ruling of the so-called Supreme Court insisting that corporations are, indeed, people. People are born, breathe, grow, fall in love, grow old, and die. There is, and has never been, any such thing as an immortal person. Thus, clearly, corporations are not people.
The Tea Partiers and their ilk are prone to such expressions as "give us back our country." Yet they don't seem at all aware who's actually taken their country from them. They blame "foreigners," or, even more amusing, "socialists," (as if the socialists have ever been of any real consequence in this country), when clearly the perpetrators of Grand Theft America are the Artificial People so recently annointed by the Surpreme Court.
You folks want to rail against something, rail against that. Then the rest of us might come to the conclusion you actually have a clue.
In the meantime we left-libertarians will be over here. Minding our own business. And the business of business, which is also our business. Because we're the real Americans... flesh, bone, and blood humans born of woman. No matter where that woman originally came from. As long as she was human, it's American enough for us. Or at least deserve to be more than any "artificial" person ever will.
Monday, June 07, 2010
Thanks, Obama. No, really. Thanks for very little.
I wasn't a big supporter of Obama from the beginning. It had nothing to do with his ethnicity, or his alleged origins, and everything to do with his remarkable oratory ability. What--I didn't like him because he spoke well? Yes, it was a marked improvement over the previous nitwit, but being well-spoken does not alone a leader make. It requires courage and vision, and, sadly, a certain aspect of cynicism, something I believed Obama lacked.
My initial choice turned out to be an idiot. Not necessarily because he cheated on his cancer-ridden wife, but because he somehow assumed his indiscretions would remain hidden through the general election. I repeat. Idiot.
But the one thing I was fairly certain we wouldn't get from Obama or Clinton would be the kind of change we needed. They barely acknowledged the true nature of what was confronting us in this country, the nature of the precipice we found ourselves balanced upon. And, yes, many of us knew ahead of time that the housing bubble was primed to pop. They'd been using it to prop up a failing economy for quite some time. When every other business out there is a newly-minted mortgage company trying to get you to refinance in order to put some money in your pocket that your job is not, there's a problem. A big one.
As I have said before, if you don't stand for something, you'll stand for anything. The "forward-looking" Obama model who wanted to put partisanship behind him and forget about all the questionable things the previous administration had done, simply emboldened those who had reason to hate him the most. It's the classic expression--the reason Democrats, and by extension, liberals, are painted as "appeasers" so successfully is that our leadership, in particular, spends an awful lot of time appeasing their political adversaries.
People respond better to impassioned argument than they do to dry facts. Sure, it's manipulative, which turns off a few folks, but it's also wildly successful. Look at the Tea Party movement.and its trademark "conservative populism" (honestly, about as obvious an oxymoron as "jumbo shrimp" or "Civil War." They've managed to get folks riled up about the bank bailouts (precipitated by the fact that any other option might well have crashed our economy for good) and yet somehow avoided the distinct odor of a "class war."
It was fairly clear from the beginning that Obama's fascination with the myth of "bipartisanship" (which, ironically, only becomes an issue during Democratic administrations) was going to lead us down the primrose path to the monster at the heart of it all. Yes, I mean appeasement. Lots of it.
Rather than swinging for the bleachers, the Democrats tried to bunt on healthcare reform. Rather than trying for the absolute MOST that might be gained, they came on their knees begging for the least they could hope for. And "least" is what we damn well got. And even still the unwashed masses screamed "socialism!" as if they even understood the concept.
I don't blame Obama so much for the legislation--he's the President, not a congress-critter. But I DO blame him for not advocating strongly enough for a tangible separation from the course that got us into this mess in the first place. Namely the use of middle men to disburse medical funds and make decisions based not on medical necessity, but shareholder profits. Namely, the health insurance industry. The whole debacle surrounded the need to keep the parasite alive while not killing the host. Fact was, the parasite was, indeed, expendable. The host--not so much.
But this is, in fact, the least of his missteps. He alienated many of his liberal supporters by continuing the morally questionable operations of his predecessor, be it the wars, the illegal wiretaps, the now obviously failed supply-side "voodoo" economics that have again shown themselves to be based upon nothing more than smoke and whispers.
The ignorant accuse him of being a "radical" and a "socialist" when, in truth, he's an average center-right politician being used by the unscrupulous to rile up those who couldn't tell a socialist from a Nazi. (And, yes, there is a difference, despite their use of the word in their acronym.
Obama may talk a good game, but he's 90% talk and 10% action. We needed a Roosevelt--a Teddy, if not a Franklin, and we got another Clinton trying to be everything to everyone and, in the end, being nothing for anyone.
I applaud America for electing the first mixed-race President. It was a significant step. But, like I said in the beginning, he'd best be after doing something remarkable to be known for something else. Otherwise he'll be little more than an interesting historical footnote. And no, that crap they served us on a silver platter pretending to be healthcare reform doesn't really count. The only ones who should be happy about it are the parasites. Those bugs should be dancing in the street.
So was electing him a mistake? Not really, since Crazy McCain wouldn't have been a better choice, and, seriously, Nader wasn't going to happen. Nope. The mistake was his, for thinking that he wouldn't have to take real risks to be the leader we needed. He didn't take those risks, wasn't the leader we needed, and yet has been vilified for it anyway.
The worst of all possible worlds. For him, as well as for us.
My initial choice turned out to be an idiot. Not necessarily because he cheated on his cancer-ridden wife, but because he somehow assumed his indiscretions would remain hidden through the general election. I repeat. Idiot.
But the one thing I was fairly certain we wouldn't get from Obama or Clinton would be the kind of change we needed. They barely acknowledged the true nature of what was confronting us in this country, the nature of the precipice we found ourselves balanced upon. And, yes, many of us knew ahead of time that the housing bubble was primed to pop. They'd been using it to prop up a failing economy for quite some time. When every other business out there is a newly-minted mortgage company trying to get you to refinance in order to put some money in your pocket that your job is not, there's a problem. A big one.
As I have said before, if you don't stand for something, you'll stand for anything. The "forward-looking" Obama model who wanted to put partisanship behind him and forget about all the questionable things the previous administration had done, simply emboldened those who had reason to hate him the most. It's the classic expression--the reason Democrats, and by extension, liberals, are painted as "appeasers" so successfully is that our leadership, in particular, spends an awful lot of time appeasing their political adversaries.
People respond better to impassioned argument than they do to dry facts. Sure, it's manipulative, which turns off a few folks, but it's also wildly successful. Look at the Tea Party movement.and its trademark "conservative populism" (honestly, about as obvious an oxymoron as "jumbo shrimp" or "Civil War." They've managed to get folks riled up about the bank bailouts (precipitated by the fact that any other option might well have crashed our economy for good) and yet somehow avoided the distinct odor of a "class war."
It was fairly clear from the beginning that Obama's fascination with the myth of "bipartisanship" (which, ironically, only becomes an issue during Democratic administrations) was going to lead us down the primrose path to the monster at the heart of it all. Yes, I mean appeasement. Lots of it.
Rather than swinging for the bleachers, the Democrats tried to bunt on healthcare reform. Rather than trying for the absolute MOST that might be gained, they came on their knees begging for the least they could hope for. And "least" is what we damn well got. And even still the unwashed masses screamed "socialism!" as if they even understood the concept.
I don't blame Obama so much for the legislation--he's the President, not a congress-critter. But I DO blame him for not advocating strongly enough for a tangible separation from the course that got us into this mess in the first place. Namely the use of middle men to disburse medical funds and make decisions based not on medical necessity, but shareholder profits. Namely, the health insurance industry. The whole debacle surrounded the need to keep the parasite alive while not killing the host. Fact was, the parasite was, indeed, expendable. The host--not so much.
But this is, in fact, the least of his missteps. He alienated many of his liberal supporters by continuing the morally questionable operations of his predecessor, be it the wars, the illegal wiretaps, the now obviously failed supply-side "voodoo" economics that have again shown themselves to be based upon nothing more than smoke and whispers.
The ignorant accuse him of being a "radical" and a "socialist" when, in truth, he's an average center-right politician being used by the unscrupulous to rile up those who couldn't tell a socialist from a Nazi. (And, yes, there is a difference, despite their use of the word in their acronym.
Obama may talk a good game, but he's 90% talk and 10% action. We needed a Roosevelt--a Teddy, if not a Franklin, and we got another Clinton trying to be everything to everyone and, in the end, being nothing for anyone.
I applaud America for electing the first mixed-race President. It was a significant step. But, like I said in the beginning, he'd best be after doing something remarkable to be known for something else. Otherwise he'll be little more than an interesting historical footnote. And no, that crap they served us on a silver platter pretending to be healthcare reform doesn't really count. The only ones who should be happy about it are the parasites. Those bugs should be dancing in the street.
So was electing him a mistake? Not really, since Crazy McCain wouldn't have been a better choice, and, seriously, Nader wasn't going to happen. Nope. The mistake was his, for thinking that he wouldn't have to take real risks to be the leader we needed. He didn't take those risks, wasn't the leader we needed, and yet has been vilified for it anyway.
The worst of all possible worlds. For him, as well as for us.
Friday, June 04, 2010
My top 10 ultimate badass movie and TV heroines
Okay... let's preface this by saying that I had to be able to suspend disbelief and actually think that the characters were truly badass. This is typically accomplished by fusing convincing acting with good fight choreography and excellent camera work. Having athletic, hot actresses doing the ass-kicking doesn't hurt, but somehow it isn't as necessary as one might think.
10. Victory Nelson. (Short lived Lifetime original series, Blood Ties--based on the works of fantasy author Tanya Huff). I'm afraid Vicky comes in at number 10 simply because of obscurity. Played by actress Christina Cox, we didn't get to see more than a hint of what Vicky could do. She was damn quick with those telescoping batons, though. Christina herself is a trained kickboxer, and moved like she knew what she was doing. I bought it.
9. Sarah Connors: (The Terminator franchise). I'm actually talking about Linda Hamilton here, not the television version of the same character. Linda was convincing as Sarah because she had been stripped down to the bare necessities like a woman who'd been burning from the inside out for far too long. Lean, corded muscle and a thousand-yard stare made her really come across as someone who'd seen the devil and spit in his eye. And crushed his robot body beneath her boot heel.
8. Buffy Summers. (Buffy, the Vampire Slayer of TV and Film). I'm going with the TV version because Kristy Swanson couldn't convince me of anything. Despite her slim and willowy form (and, my gawd, the girl's turned into a stick figure) actress Sarah Gellar managed to make me believe she could kick the snot out of even the badest vamp without once breaking a nail. Kudos to the choreographers and camera technicians, as well as her trainer. She was quite convincing. Yes, I know she started out with a belt in Tae Kwon Do. But I know it took a lot of hard work to make it all come together.
7. Faith Lehane: (BVTS, once again--the TV show). All things considered, it was much easier to buy Faith as a "chew em up and spit 'em out" vampire slayer. She just looks more solid than Sarah Gellar. Plus the character was balls-out. Where Buffy relied on her friends a lot, Faith just relied on good old fashioned ass kicking craziness. Maybe not the best strategy in the long run, but I never got the idea Faith planned to be around forever.
6. Lara Croft: (Tomb Raider 1 and 2). I was impressed to discover that Angelina Jolie did many of her own stunts for this movie. She looked solid and her kung fu skills were impressive. Okay, maybe not kung fu, but at least kickboxing. The bungee cord ballet was fucking amazing. Large, megalithic props to the choreographers on this one. She looked like she could wade through a whole army of illuminati assholes without batting an eye. I miss that Angelina.
5. Elektra: Setting aside the debacle that was Daredevil (one of my favorite superheroes growing up--after Spider Man, screwed up by so many things I don't want to discuss right now) I honestly didn't think Elektra was that bad. Garner certainly managed to pull off the badassery as well as anyone could have. I know, like Angelina, that she did many of her own stunts and lost the tip of a finger during the rehearsal of the sword fight with the Big Bad). I can respect that level of dedication. And, yeah, I thought she might've been all that.
4. Zen: (From the Thai film, "Chocolate.") Really she should have rated higher, and would have if not for what I see as the director's few glaring mistakes. The girl is remarkably athletic, and has one hell of a future ahead of her. But, despite some truly remarkable stunts, there were a few techniques performed that threw me bodily out of my suspension of disbelief. For a little thing like JeeJa Yanin (or, if you prefer, Yanin Vismitananda) to get any power (without presumed supernatural assistance) into her blows, she can't be performing them at a distance of a couple of inches. That kind of punch/kick might rock his head back, but it won't knock him flat. But all in all the girl was the shit.
3. River Tam: (Firefly and Serenity). Another Joss Whedon offering featuring a little girl who can kick ass. Of course, we don't really see that side of her until the movie. Summer Glau is a dancer, and, as we've seen before, dance translates very well into martial arts choreography. Yes, you too will believe this tiny thing can kick the living shit out of a whole army of wild, savage, cannibalistic Reavers. And that, my friends, is impressive indeed.
2. Alice: (Resident Evil 1, 2, and 3). I just recently watched RE 1 the other day. Milla Jovovich looked solid, like someone who COULD kick a zombie's head clean off. It's been a while since I've seen the others, but I remember thinking she'd lost a little muscle tone, particularly in the last one. I know she's been genetically altered, folks, but a little bulk makes the pill go down easier. Yeah, she kicks ass. But it helps that she LOOKS like she can kick ass.
1. Violet Song jat Shariff: (Ultraviolet). Milla again. This girl makes a remarkably believable action star. Some of it is, of course, attitude. You watch her and you believe she can go from stone killer to sweet thing and back in seconds flat. Violet is a thief, assassin, and "terrorist" in her world, and, as she says more than once, killing is "what I do." She'd lost everything that mattered to her and wanted revenge. And got it... in spades. Live or die, Violet was going to take as many of the motherfuckers with her as she could. A lot of people hated this flick. I loved it. Some of the special effects were sub-par, but the story and choreography were top-notch in my book. Massive amounts of violence and, yet, heart. I get it.
I should include an honorable mention category, but not this time. Let's see what everyone else has to say first. I await your responses.
10. Victory Nelson. (Short lived Lifetime original series, Blood Ties--based on the works of fantasy author Tanya Huff). I'm afraid Vicky comes in at number 10 simply because of obscurity. Played by actress Christina Cox, we didn't get to see more than a hint of what Vicky could do. She was damn quick with those telescoping batons, though. Christina herself is a trained kickboxer, and moved like she knew what she was doing. I bought it.
9. Sarah Connors: (The Terminator franchise). I'm actually talking about Linda Hamilton here, not the television version of the same character. Linda was convincing as Sarah because she had been stripped down to the bare necessities like a woman who'd been burning from the inside out for far too long. Lean, corded muscle and a thousand-yard stare made her really come across as someone who'd seen the devil and spit in his eye. And crushed his robot body beneath her boot heel.
8. Buffy Summers. (Buffy, the Vampire Slayer of TV and Film). I'm going with the TV version because Kristy Swanson couldn't convince me of anything. Despite her slim and willowy form (and, my gawd, the girl's turned into a stick figure) actress Sarah Gellar managed to make me believe she could kick the snot out of even the badest vamp without once breaking a nail. Kudos to the choreographers and camera technicians, as well as her trainer. She was quite convincing. Yes, I know she started out with a belt in Tae Kwon Do. But I know it took a lot of hard work to make it all come together.
7. Faith Lehane: (BVTS, once again--the TV show). All things considered, it was much easier to buy Faith as a "chew em up and spit 'em out" vampire slayer. She just looks more solid than Sarah Gellar. Plus the character was balls-out. Where Buffy relied on her friends a lot, Faith just relied on good old fashioned ass kicking craziness. Maybe not the best strategy in the long run, but I never got the idea Faith planned to be around forever.
6. Lara Croft: (Tomb Raider 1 and 2). I was impressed to discover that Angelina Jolie did many of her own stunts for this movie. She looked solid and her kung fu skills were impressive. Okay, maybe not kung fu, but at least kickboxing. The bungee cord ballet was fucking amazing. Large, megalithic props to the choreographers on this one. She looked like she could wade through a whole army of illuminati assholes without batting an eye. I miss that Angelina.
5. Elektra: Setting aside the debacle that was Daredevil (one of my favorite superheroes growing up--after Spider Man, screwed up by so many things I don't want to discuss right now) I honestly didn't think Elektra was that bad. Garner certainly managed to pull off the badassery as well as anyone could have. I know, like Angelina, that she did many of her own stunts and lost the tip of a finger during the rehearsal of the sword fight with the Big Bad). I can respect that level of dedication. And, yeah, I thought she might've been all that.
4. Zen: (From the Thai film, "Chocolate.") Really she should have rated higher, and would have if not for what I see as the director's few glaring mistakes. The girl is remarkably athletic, and has one hell of a future ahead of her. But, despite some truly remarkable stunts, there were a few techniques performed that threw me bodily out of my suspension of disbelief. For a little thing like JeeJa Yanin (or, if you prefer, Yanin Vismitananda) to get any power (without presumed supernatural assistance) into her blows, she can't be performing them at a distance of a couple of inches. That kind of punch/kick might rock his head back, but it won't knock him flat. But all in all the girl was the shit.
3. River Tam: (Firefly and Serenity). Another Joss Whedon offering featuring a little girl who can kick ass. Of course, we don't really see that side of her until the movie. Summer Glau is a dancer, and, as we've seen before, dance translates very well into martial arts choreography. Yes, you too will believe this tiny thing can kick the living shit out of a whole army of wild, savage, cannibalistic Reavers. And that, my friends, is impressive indeed.
2. Alice: (Resident Evil 1, 2, and 3). I just recently watched RE 1 the other day. Milla Jovovich looked solid, like someone who COULD kick a zombie's head clean off. It's been a while since I've seen the others, but I remember thinking she'd lost a little muscle tone, particularly in the last one. I know she's been genetically altered, folks, but a little bulk makes the pill go down easier. Yeah, she kicks ass. But it helps that she LOOKS like she can kick ass.
1. Violet Song jat Shariff: (Ultraviolet). Milla again. This girl makes a remarkably believable action star. Some of it is, of course, attitude. You watch her and you believe she can go from stone killer to sweet thing and back in seconds flat. Violet is a thief, assassin, and "terrorist" in her world, and, as she says more than once, killing is "what I do." She'd lost everything that mattered to her and wanted revenge. And got it... in spades. Live or die, Violet was going to take as many of the motherfuckers with her as she could. A lot of people hated this flick. I loved it. Some of the special effects were sub-par, but the story and choreography were top-notch in my book. Massive amounts of violence and, yet, heart. I get it.
I should include an honorable mention category, but not this time. Let's see what everyone else has to say first. I await your responses.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Elaine
She was the first real mother figure I remember, in my life between the ages of 4 and 12. In many ways, it was Elaine who first started me on the path to becoming a writer. She sat me down and read half "The Hobbit" to me. I picked it up where she stopped and started devouring everything I could find to read from that moment on. By the time I finished LOTR later that year, I knew I wanted to be an author.
She and my dad had problems I knew nothing about--thank whatever Gods there may or may not be. They weren't the kind of issues children should know anything about. But once they'd broken up for good--I think I'd just turned 13--it came to our attention that she was living with another woman. Elaine, as it turned out, was gay.
This was in the late seventies, mind you, and in Central Oregon. All these years I have to applaud her for her bravery for daring to come out in the first place. It couldn't have been easy, particularly not after struggling so long with her identity. My father, needless to say, was blown away and I believe, on some level, offended. Rather than seeing her coming out as a lesbian to be her finally realizing who she really was, he saw it as somehow reflective of him. "Oh, my Gawd--I turned her gay."
For many years I believe he resented her, though recent discussions have led him to realize that he may have been in error. This is quite something for my father. He's not good at admitting when he's wrong. And, after all these years, I am probably the only person in the world who has a chance of getting him to see something from a different perspective.
I like to think she'd be proud of me now. I lost contact with her years ago, after my father and I moved away. I went back down to Oregon for a year or so and lived with some former friends of theirs when I was 15. At the time I was trying to find something that I couldn't have, at the time, found anywhere on Earth... a place where I would be truly comfortable in my own skin.
I learned a lot there, as a matter of fact. I learned the value of hard work. I learned how to grow a garden, and even more about taking care of farm animals than I had as a child. I also learned about homophobia. I learned to hate it, because it stole from me a relationship that I should never have lost.
I spent a weekend visiting with Elaine, her girlfriend, and her girlfriend's father. They were nice people, and it was probably the first time Elaine and I had ever bonded as something approaching equals, the first time I think she began to see something of the man I'd become.
But Bruce, the so-called "man" of the family, later told Elaine that it would be best if she stayed away from me from then on. Something even my dad agrees that he had no right to do. He was acting as my guardian, legally speaking, but he overstepped any authority he may have had by saying this to her. She was, and is, my family.
Bruce didn't really have much moral high ground, though I suppose someone who actually thinks being gay is sinful rather than just "icky" might disagree. Not that I give a fuck about that. Bruce was a big-time pot grower, a Charles Manson lookalike, and a bully. He could go from being the coolest guy you know to an abusive freak in seconds.
I finally left and returned to Washington to be with my dad. Our relationship wasn't perfect, but it was better than living with that asshole. Unfortunately, I lost all contact with Elaine. And now, some 28 years later, I haven't been able to track her down. I don't know what last name she uses, nor whether she stayed in Oregon or moved back to San Jose to be near her family. I don't know if she's on-line (though I suspect she might be) or anything else about her this far down the line.
I never knew my mother. Elaine was the first, closest thing to a mom I had growing up and I regret like hell being the vulnerable kid I was when someone who had no right stepped in and cut off contact between us. This is one of the reasons I'm as anti-homophobia, pro-gay as I am. I understand a little of what kind of courage it takes for people to be who they are despite all the forces lined up against them.
Bruce--you're an asshole. I hate to think what you did to your wife's kids, or your youngest son, once I was gone. I hope you got your just desserts in the end.
Elaine--If you're out there, or if anyone recognizes her from this description (I'm not so crass as to make this any more explicit than it already is) I'd love to hear from you. I've sought you on FB and Myspace, but I have no idea if you'd involve yourself in either. But maybe some of your friends have. And maybe, just maybe, people will point you in the right direction to get in touch again.
I'd love to hear from you.
She and my dad had problems I knew nothing about--thank whatever Gods there may or may not be. They weren't the kind of issues children should know anything about. But once they'd broken up for good--I think I'd just turned 13--it came to our attention that she was living with another woman. Elaine, as it turned out, was gay.
This was in the late seventies, mind you, and in Central Oregon. All these years I have to applaud her for her bravery for daring to come out in the first place. It couldn't have been easy, particularly not after struggling so long with her identity. My father, needless to say, was blown away and I believe, on some level, offended. Rather than seeing her coming out as a lesbian to be her finally realizing who she really was, he saw it as somehow reflective of him. "Oh, my Gawd--I turned her gay."
For many years I believe he resented her, though recent discussions have led him to realize that he may have been in error. This is quite something for my father. He's not good at admitting when he's wrong. And, after all these years, I am probably the only person in the world who has a chance of getting him to see something from a different perspective.
I like to think she'd be proud of me now. I lost contact with her years ago, after my father and I moved away. I went back down to Oregon for a year or so and lived with some former friends of theirs when I was 15. At the time I was trying to find something that I couldn't have, at the time, found anywhere on Earth... a place where I would be truly comfortable in my own skin.
I learned a lot there, as a matter of fact. I learned the value of hard work. I learned how to grow a garden, and even more about taking care of farm animals than I had as a child. I also learned about homophobia. I learned to hate it, because it stole from me a relationship that I should never have lost.
I spent a weekend visiting with Elaine, her girlfriend, and her girlfriend's father. They were nice people, and it was probably the first time Elaine and I had ever bonded as something approaching equals, the first time I think she began to see something of the man I'd become.
But Bruce, the so-called "man" of the family, later told Elaine that it would be best if she stayed away from me from then on. Something even my dad agrees that he had no right to do. He was acting as my guardian, legally speaking, but he overstepped any authority he may have had by saying this to her. She was, and is, my family.
Bruce didn't really have much moral high ground, though I suppose someone who actually thinks being gay is sinful rather than just "icky" might disagree. Not that I give a fuck about that. Bruce was a big-time pot grower, a Charles Manson lookalike, and a bully. He could go from being the coolest guy you know to an abusive freak in seconds.
I finally left and returned to Washington to be with my dad. Our relationship wasn't perfect, but it was better than living with that asshole. Unfortunately, I lost all contact with Elaine. And now, some 28 years later, I haven't been able to track her down. I don't know what last name she uses, nor whether she stayed in Oregon or moved back to San Jose to be near her family. I don't know if she's on-line (though I suspect she might be) or anything else about her this far down the line.
I never knew my mother. Elaine was the first, closest thing to a mom I had growing up and I regret like hell being the vulnerable kid I was when someone who had no right stepped in and cut off contact between us. This is one of the reasons I'm as anti-homophobia, pro-gay as I am. I understand a little of what kind of courage it takes for people to be who they are despite all the forces lined up against them.
Bruce--you're an asshole. I hate to think what you did to your wife's kids, or your youngest son, once I was gone. I hope you got your just desserts in the end.
Elaine--If you're out there, or if anyone recognizes her from this description (I'm not so crass as to make this any more explicit than it already is) I'd love to hear from you. I've sought you on FB and Myspace, but I have no idea if you'd involve yourself in either. But maybe some of your friends have. And maybe, just maybe, people will point you in the right direction to get in touch again.
I'd love to hear from you.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
Metal All the Way Down
So... I'm a member of Last.fm, which is a great place to search out new music of the kind you like. You can set it up on an iphone or Droid phone to stream music based upon what you've chosen, or based upon recommendations based upon your library or playlists. Very cool if you want to discover new music in your favorite genre.
Of course, for me these days there's only one genre. Metal. Symphonic, European Power, and Progressive metal, to be precise. I prefer female fronted stuff, but there are some very nice male vocals out there. As long as it isn't Death or Black metal or what they call "Screamo." Please.
My favorite male vocalist? Mathias Blad from Falconer. This guy fucking rocks. I'm also fond of Roy Khan from the (American) European Power Metal band Kamelot. The former singer from Thunderstone was pretty damn good too, but he's replaced on the new album by one of the singers from Tarot--which isn't as bad as it sounds.
It's getting to the point I prefer male vocals in the lower registers. I don't mind if they can GO high, but they shouldn't stay there. Exceptions, of course, being the stuff I grew up listening to. But newer metal? If I want to hear that stuff, there are plenty of bands from back in the day where that's common. Give me Blad's "Clarion Call" or Khan's "March of Mephisto" any day.
And my taste for female vocals is all over the map. I like Tarja Turanen, Simone Simons, Floor Jansen, Cristina Scabbia (Yes, I KNOW there's no 'H' in Cristina... NOW). Though my issue with Scabbia is that I'm still not a huge fan of Lacuna coil. I prefer the vocals to overlay the music, not the other way around. Her voice is too often half drowned and hidden within the coils of the music, and her fellow vocalist's voice is just grating.
My top 3 bands as of this moment are Epica, Edenbridge, and Gwyllion, though following close behind are Delain and Stream of Passion. I'm also very interested to hear what Amy Lee has up her sleeve, and how it'll compete with former bandmates' new band, We Are The Fallen. Yeah--that's definitely the way to do it. Snatch up one of the better female runners-up on American Idol and make a run for the charts with her. She's got some talent, that's for certain.
Suffice to say I don't really care for modern hard rock all that much. Certainly not the American brand. One exception is Shinedown, but I've been a fan of theirs since I first heard .45 on some obscure radio program. That dude has a serious set of pipes. Their rendition of Skynyrd's Simple Man is boggling. But the rest of 'em? Who's who again? American rock needs a good kick in the balls. American metal needs a singing lesson.
Having two Evanescences might actually kick start more female fronted metal. It doesn't all have to be symphonic. But ixnay on the ethmetalday, eh? No room for "Angry Dog Rock" in these ear-holes.
I've been a metal head the first time a friend dropped a needle on an old Sabbath album and played me "Iron Man" and "War Pigs." I was blessed to hear the first stirrings of Queensryche before they forayed out into the world. And was left in despair when bands like Motley Crue, Ratt, Def Leppard and Poison became the nation's "heavy metal" heartthrobs. Puhleeze. Back then we had Metallica, Megadeth, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Queensryche, Fates Warning, Metal Church, and Savatage. We knew real metal when we heard it.
Still do. It has to have power, sure. But it also has to have majesty. All the fucking way down.
Oh, and I'd also like to recommend you check out reverbnation.com. Why? Because they have charts of local, national, and global acts that often offer free downloads to fans. You might discover some really terrific music just around the corner. Or discover some really nice people making music you like half a world away.
Of course, for me these days there's only one genre. Metal. Symphonic, European Power, and Progressive metal, to be precise. I prefer female fronted stuff, but there are some very nice male vocals out there. As long as it isn't Death or Black metal or what they call "Screamo." Please.
My favorite male vocalist? Mathias Blad from Falconer. This guy fucking rocks. I'm also fond of Roy Khan from the (American) European Power Metal band Kamelot. The former singer from Thunderstone was pretty damn good too, but he's replaced on the new album by one of the singers from Tarot--which isn't as bad as it sounds.
It's getting to the point I prefer male vocals in the lower registers. I don't mind if they can GO high, but they shouldn't stay there. Exceptions, of course, being the stuff I grew up listening to. But newer metal? If I want to hear that stuff, there are plenty of bands from back in the day where that's common. Give me Blad's "Clarion Call" or Khan's "March of Mephisto" any day.
And my taste for female vocals is all over the map. I like Tarja Turanen, Simone Simons, Floor Jansen, Cristina Scabbia (Yes, I KNOW there's no 'H' in Cristina... NOW). Though my issue with Scabbia is that I'm still not a huge fan of Lacuna coil. I prefer the vocals to overlay the music, not the other way around. Her voice is too often half drowned and hidden within the coils of the music, and her fellow vocalist's voice is just grating.
My top 3 bands as of this moment are Epica, Edenbridge, and Gwyllion, though following close behind are Delain and Stream of Passion. I'm also very interested to hear what Amy Lee has up her sleeve, and how it'll compete with former bandmates' new band, We Are The Fallen. Yeah--that's definitely the way to do it. Snatch up one of the better female runners-up on American Idol and make a run for the charts with her. She's got some talent, that's for certain.
Suffice to say I don't really care for modern hard rock all that much. Certainly not the American brand. One exception is Shinedown, but I've been a fan of theirs since I first heard .45 on some obscure radio program. That dude has a serious set of pipes. Their rendition of Skynyrd's Simple Man is boggling. But the rest of 'em? Who's who again? American rock needs a good kick in the balls. American metal needs a singing lesson.
Having two Evanescences might actually kick start more female fronted metal. It doesn't all have to be symphonic. But ixnay on the ethmetalday, eh? No room for "Angry Dog Rock" in these ear-holes.
I've been a metal head the first time a friend dropped a needle on an old Sabbath album and played me "Iron Man" and "War Pigs." I was blessed to hear the first stirrings of Queensryche before they forayed out into the world. And was left in despair when bands like Motley Crue, Ratt, Def Leppard and Poison became the nation's "heavy metal" heartthrobs. Puhleeze. Back then we had Metallica, Megadeth, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Queensryche, Fates Warning, Metal Church, and Savatage. We knew real metal when we heard it.
Still do. It has to have power, sure. But it also has to have majesty. All the fucking way down.
Oh, and I'd also like to recommend you check out reverbnation.com. Why? Because they have charts of local, national, and global acts that often offer free downloads to fans. You might discover some really terrific music just around the corner. Or discover some really nice people making music you like half a world away.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Just thought I'd mention
I've started another blog, this one dedicated to television shows I like. Yes, I'm beginning my campaign to work for TV Guide. You've caught me out.
But seriously, this allows me to write about my favorite shows without having to break into this blog--which is supposed to be about my life and observations about such--to say my piece. If you like television, or any of my favorite shows--it's a pretty long list--head on over to check it out.
But seriously, this allows me to write about my favorite shows without having to break into this blog--which is supposed to be about my life and observations about such--to say my piece. If you like television, or any of my favorite shows--it's a pretty long list--head on over to check it out.
Living in the shadow of a giant
The recent eruption of the Icelandic volcano has brought up a few thoughts on what it's like to live within the blast shadow of one. Our beautiful mountain is a sleeping giant. We all know it. And, like the possibility of a devastating earthquake, there's some likelihood that it'll wake up and smash us like the ants we might resemble. But I refuse to fear such an event. For one, there's nothing I can do about it. For two, natural disasters are something it's almost impossible to avoid no matter where you live. Here on the west coast it's earthquakes and volcanoes. The southeast has hurricanes. The midwest has tornadoes. The southwest has droughts and flash floods. Only the New England states and their nearest neighbors seem generally "safe," but are they really? Given global warming it's only a matter of time before a hurricane ventures up that direction.
Mt. Rainier. Too beautiful to fear.
Some may call it fatalism, but I tend to think of it as a kind of optimism. I'll go ahead with my life not worrying about big volcanoes and possible meteor strikes caused by passing across the middle plane of the galaxy (one of my father's big concerns, apparently). Because, well, there's not a fucking thing I can do about it. I could avoid the mountain by moving, but, seriously, that would be a little like wearing a hazmat suit every day of your life just in case a toxic spill happened. Shit happens. But you can't and shouldn't, as they say, borrow trouble.
Probably doesn't hurt that I'm not particularly afraid of death. I don't know what comes next, if anything comes next, but I'm fairly certain that there isn't a heaven or hell. Both are absurd concepts when you get right down to it. An eternity bowing and scraping to a narcissistic deity or eternal torture as punishment for a few temporary misdeeds? Seriously? How anyone can actually buy into this crap is beyond me. Reincarnation actually makes a bit more sense. But even oblivion is okay with me. It's nice to think that something may continue, but anyone offering guarantees is selling something I don't want to buy. If the coin is "faith," my pockets are perpetually empty.
So, yeah, the mountain may explode and squish us all in massive mudflows, boil us in lava or pyroclastic clouds, or choke us with ash. Or a meteor may slam into the Earth and snuff all life as we know it in a nanosecond. But, despite my lack of what would traditionally be called "faith," I like to think there's a reason we're here, a reason not served by the casual snuffing out of our existence. The universe may be a matter of random chance, but maybe, just maybe, there might be a reason behind it all. And maybe sentience has a purpose beyond what we can see or understand.
And, then again, maybe I'm just telling myself the things I need to tell myself in order to roll out of bed every day and turn a smile to the world.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Seattle
So, we went to Seattle last weekend for an anniversary dinner at the Fisherman's Restaurant on the pier. (I always forget which one, but I know it was a pier). My wife has always wanted to live in Seattle, an experience I personally place on my list just under getting torn apart by wild dogs. I say "but parking's so expensive," to which she says, "I wouldn't own a car."
Thus speaks the woman who has NEVER been without a car. I have. Hate to say it, but the only way I'd live in any city like that is if I were independently wealthy and could afford to keep my car. Besides, I love my car. It's only the second vehicle I've ever owned I've felt this way about. I'd no sooner give it up than I'd give up the thing which it allegedly symbolizes.
To distract you from thinking about that, here's a couple of pics.
This is where we had dinner. The crab feast is phenomenal. We got it with a 2 for 1 special, so it wasn't as spendy as it sounds.
Thus speaks the woman who has NEVER been without a car. I have. Hate to say it, but the only way I'd live in any city like that is if I were independently wealthy and could afford to keep my car. Besides, I love my car. It's only the second vehicle I've ever owned I've felt this way about. I'd no sooner give it up than I'd give up the thing which it allegedly symbolizes.
To distract you from thinking about that, here's a couple of pics.
This is where we had dinner. The crab feast is phenomenal. We got it with a 2 for 1 special, so it wasn't as spendy as it sounds.
And here's a picture of the skyline from the pier. Not as iconic as, say, a picture of the space needle, but still very cool.
I've nothing against Seattle, other than I think it sucks to drive there. And the fact that I'm not really a city boy at heart (despite having spent time in many different cities). I like Tacoma because, though it's a city, it's still got a smaller town feel to it. I'm not even sure why. Maybe because it's so close to Puyallup.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
So... Norwescon, a week or so late
I really meant to get this put together right after the Con, but I've had a problem focusing. Probably because I haven't been sleeping all that well since getting off the post-op pain meds. I prefer to sleep on my right side and now that it doesn't hurt quite as much, I'm trying to roll over on it in my sleep. Which does hurt. And wakes me up. Plus my restless legs are kicking up a fuss (not today, since I started working on my walking regimen either to and from PT or in the pool at the gym. Now my legs are just sore as hell. Going to have to get my stamina back before heading back to the day job.
So... How about some Norwescon pics, eh? Some great costumes, ranging from the barely adequate (mine, since I'm just getting started putting a real costume together) to extraordinary. But how about I stop describing it with words when pictures can do so much better?
Now, honestly, these are some of the most impressive costumes I saw the whole weekend. A whole clan of dark elves that never once seemed to slip character. They were silent and slightly menacing every time I caught sight of them. Daunting.
Now, this steampunk couple obviously go all out for their costumes. I can imagine them setting sail in their dirigible for parts unknown once the con was over. Good thing there's plenty of balloon parking on the hotel roof, eh?
And what SF convention would be complete without Darth Maul, right? Downright fiendish. Of course, I can't help but think those dark elves would've made short work of him.
And, of course, the inescapable troll pirate. Hold tight to your grog, mateys... no one can drain a barrel dry faster than a troll flying the jolly roger.
Guess who? Don't worry, the costume will be much better by next year, if not by the Witches Ball. Oh, yeah.
So... How about some Norwescon pics, eh? Some great costumes, ranging from the barely adequate (mine, since I'm just getting started putting a real costume together) to extraordinary. But how about I stop describing it with words when pictures can do so much better?
Now, honestly, these are some of the most impressive costumes I saw the whole weekend. A whole clan of dark elves that never once seemed to slip character. They were silent and slightly menacing every time I caught sight of them. Daunting.
Guess who? Don't worry, the costume will be much better by next year, if not by the Witches Ball. Oh, yeah.
Thursday, April 01, 2010
Surgery, recovery, and Norwescon
I don't like feeling vulnerable. And I'll tell you, after my surgery I felt like a grounded bird. I can't go back to work until the end of April, I can't drive, and I'm practically useless around the house. Sucks to be me right now. I haven't even been able to write until fairly recently because to try to type stressed out my arm too much. I'm finally getting that back, which is a definite improvement.
I had shoulder surgery. Had to be at the hospital at 5:15 AM--I never see 5:15 AM. I don't want to see 5:15 AM. Surgery was scheduled at 7:30, so the two hours were to get me in and set up and so forth. Last thing I remembered was being moved around on the operating table like a piece of furniture myself, waiting for the anesthesia to kick in.
Operation went well and apparently everything was fixed the way it was supposed to be. That's good... I'd hate to think of how it would feel if it weren't. The fact that it's my dominant arm--my right--makes things that much more difficult. I can't even shave. Then again, I now know I can grow a beard. Sounds like a no-brainer, right? Except that I didn't even really need to shave regularly until I was almost thirty. So now I've got a beard.
Now today was the first day of Norwescon and we went to get all signed up and everything. Spent some time in the Green Room, then dropped in on the Press Party to mingle. Met a nice fellow who used to do some work for WOTC and White Wolf. Didn't take long before it got so tight in there we had to leave. My wife told me I'd stuck it out longer than she'd expected. Crowds like that freak me out a little, particularly now that I have to watch out for someone jostling my shoulder.
I'm doing FB and Twitter updates with my new phone FROM the Con. And, yes, I'll have pictures.
Some of the artwork we've seen (We bid on a couple pieces) is simply amazing. If we don't get the originals, we'll be looking for prints. We'll put them up on the walls once we move.
Anyhoo, that's all for now. I'm going to settle back and watch the newest Human Target and enjoy the "hey, it doesn't feel like a monster's gnawing my arm off" feeling I get from the painkillers.
I had shoulder surgery. Had to be at the hospital at 5:15 AM--I never see 5:15 AM. I don't want to see 5:15 AM. Surgery was scheduled at 7:30, so the two hours were to get me in and set up and so forth. Last thing I remembered was being moved around on the operating table like a piece of furniture myself, waiting for the anesthesia to kick in.
Operation went well and apparently everything was fixed the way it was supposed to be. That's good... I'd hate to think of how it would feel if it weren't. The fact that it's my dominant arm--my right--makes things that much more difficult. I can't even shave. Then again, I now know I can grow a beard. Sounds like a no-brainer, right? Except that I didn't even really need to shave regularly until I was almost thirty. So now I've got a beard.
Now today was the first day of Norwescon and we went to get all signed up and everything. Spent some time in the Green Room, then dropped in on the Press Party to mingle. Met a nice fellow who used to do some work for WOTC and White Wolf. Didn't take long before it got so tight in there we had to leave. My wife told me I'd stuck it out longer than she'd expected. Crowds like that freak me out a little, particularly now that I have to watch out for someone jostling my shoulder.
I'm doing FB and Twitter updates with my new phone FROM the Con. And, yes, I'll have pictures.
Some of the artwork we've seen (We bid on a couple pieces) is simply amazing. If we don't get the originals, we'll be looking for prints. We'll put them up on the walls once we move.
Anyhoo, that's all for now. I'm going to settle back and watch the newest Human Target and enjoy the "hey, it doesn't feel like a monster's gnawing my arm off" feeling I get from the painkillers.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Surgery in my future
Well, as most of you know by now, I fell down a hill and busted up my shoulder pretty good. Was waiting for it to heal and it kept not healing so we did the doctor dance and I got a CT scan. Turns out I tore the ligaments away from the bone so I have no support anywhere away from my body. No wonder I can't lift anything or move my elbow away from my body worth a damn, eh?
So I've got surgery coming up, which will be my fourth surgery in my life. This might be the most serious, considering that it's trying to reattach something that's come completely loose. I figure I'll be down for a little while before I can even go to PT. So that's some short term disability before I can go back to work.
Time to finish my newest novel.
With any luck I'll have something new and shiny to show off by the time I head back to the day job. Something that isn't connected to my Infinity stuff.
So far it's coming along quite well, thanks for asking. I just started Chapter 5. Which is roughly 12,000 words or so. Not too bad.
What can one expect? Well, it's a Saje Williams novel, which means it's going to take myths and legends and do something twisty with them. If you've read my Infinity novels, you have some idea already. If you haven't, maybe you should.
The one thing the Dark Alliance books will NOT include is vampires. No blood-suckers. Psychic vampires--well, that's a different thing entirely. I'll be introducing you all to the notion of 'Travelers...' Souls that can travel from body to body at need.
And I won't be giving any more of it away than that right now. Suffice to say that it'll be another wild ride. I promise.
So I've got surgery coming up, which will be my fourth surgery in my life. This might be the most serious, considering that it's trying to reattach something that's come completely loose. I figure I'll be down for a little while before I can even go to PT. So that's some short term disability before I can go back to work.
Time to finish my newest novel.
With any luck I'll have something new and shiny to show off by the time I head back to the day job. Something that isn't connected to my Infinity stuff.
So far it's coming along quite well, thanks for asking. I just started Chapter 5. Which is roughly 12,000 words or so. Not too bad.
What can one expect? Well, it's a Saje Williams novel, which means it's going to take myths and legends and do something twisty with them. If you've read my Infinity novels, you have some idea already. If you haven't, maybe you should.
The one thing the Dark Alliance books will NOT include is vampires. No blood-suckers. Psychic vampires--well, that's a different thing entirely. I'll be introducing you all to the notion of 'Travelers...' Souls that can travel from body to body at need.
And I won't be giving any more of it away than that right now. Suffice to say that it'll be another wild ride. I promise.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Climate Change
Oh, yeah. People all over the world, particularly the east coast of the U.S. and parts of Europe, might be looking up and saying to one another and themselves "what global warming?"
Well, it's the middle of February and over 60 degrees here in the great state of Washington. We've had one of the milder winters on record (pretty much the opposite of last year's big snow) and I, for one, am not complaining. I'm tired of cold and dreary. I was tired of it in early October. Looking forward to Spring, even with the hayfever.
Took advantage of the weather to head out to Pt. Defiance and take a few pics the other day.
I'm loving the new camera, as one can tell. Even if I'm having to do a lot of things one-handed right now. That's why I'm particularly happy I have a tripod.
Well, it's the middle of February and over 60 degrees here in the great state of Washington. We've had one of the milder winters on record (pretty much the opposite of last year's big snow) and I, for one, am not complaining. I'm tired of cold and dreary. I was tired of it in early October. Looking forward to Spring, even with the hayfever.
Took advantage of the weather to head out to Pt. Defiance and take a few pics the other day.
And here's a nice shot of the Olympics
And the Tacoma Narrows Bridge
Oh, and here's another shot after being run through a Paint Shop filter. I like the way this looks. Anyone else?
One of the corner towers of the Fort at Pt. Defiance.
Somehow I don't believe it was ever used to defend against attacks by hostiles.
And another shot of the Olympics
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Character Studies Part II
While the first book of my Infinity: Earth series is labeled a "paranormal romance," the second one is most definitely a critter of a whole 'nother breed. It's a coming-of-age tale, featuring young Cory Flynn. His mother is Rachel Flynn, a detective on the small Redburn police force, investigating a spate of murders with definite vampiric overtones. She thinks it might be one of the new "freaks," who started turning up after the plagues that swept across the world the previous couple of years. But she's not at all sure.
Cory and his best friend, Ben, are attacked and Cory is dragged away while Ben is left to explain his disappearance to Cory's mom as best he can.
As it turns out, Rachel is on the trail of a vampire. But she's not the only one. The creature that snatched young Cory is a vampire as well--her creator. He gives Cory a choice--either accept what he offers, or die knowing that everything he loves will be destroyed. Cory makes the only choice he possibly can. The vampire, Dave, drains him to the point of death and leaves him there in the darkness to be transformed by the nosferatu virus as it has its way with him.
He awakes ravenous, but remembering what Dave told him before leaving him to die. He begins recruiting soldiers to his side in the coming war. The self-proclaimed Queen of the Night, the vampire bitch who's been killing his neighbors, is building an army of the undead. He has little choice but to do the same.
Cory is young to have such responsibility thrust upon him and ends up making several missteps right off the bat. His situation makes an enemy of his best friend, and his thirst gets the better of him several times before he gets a handle on it.
In the meantime the townspeople begin dying or disappearing in greater numbers while Rachel and her fellow detectives try to make sense of it all. Rachel is caught between concern for her son--whom everyone else fears is dead--and a driving need to solve these terrible crimes.
Enter Amanda Keening-Grey--Federal agent, mage, and all around kick-ass heroine. Even though she doesn't look a day over thirteen or fourteen. She's been sent by Athena Cross, temporary head of the Paranormal Affairs Commission. Taking care of this little problem is her graduation exercise, the one thing she has to accomplish to be promoted to full agent.
And what's worse is that in the midst of all of this, Rachel and Amanda discover that some people are not at all what they originally seemed to be.
Cory and his best friend, Ben, are attacked and Cory is dragged away while Ben is left to explain his disappearance to Cory's mom as best he can.
As it turns out, Rachel is on the trail of a vampire. But she's not the only one. The creature that snatched young Cory is a vampire as well--her creator. He gives Cory a choice--either accept what he offers, or die knowing that everything he loves will be destroyed. Cory makes the only choice he possibly can. The vampire, Dave, drains him to the point of death and leaves him there in the darkness to be transformed by the nosferatu virus as it has its way with him.
He awakes ravenous, but remembering what Dave told him before leaving him to die. He begins recruiting soldiers to his side in the coming war. The self-proclaimed Queen of the Night, the vampire bitch who's been killing his neighbors, is building an army of the undead. He has little choice but to do the same.
Cory is young to have such responsibility thrust upon him and ends up making several missteps right off the bat. His situation makes an enemy of his best friend, and his thirst gets the better of him several times before he gets a handle on it.
In the meantime the townspeople begin dying or disappearing in greater numbers while Rachel and her fellow detectives try to make sense of it all. Rachel is caught between concern for her son--whom everyone else fears is dead--and a driving need to solve these terrible crimes.
Enter Amanda Keening-Grey--Federal agent, mage, and all around kick-ass heroine. Even though she doesn't look a day over thirteen or fourteen. She's been sent by Athena Cross, temporary head of the Paranormal Affairs Commission. Taking care of this little problem is her graduation exercise, the one thing she has to accomplish to be promoted to full agent.
And what's worse is that in the midst of all of this, Rachel and Amanda discover that some people are not at all what they originally seemed to be.
Character studies Part I
What do I mean by that? Well, I've spent a good part of the day trying to come up with suitable quotes for various characters--quotes I mean to use on tee-shirts featuring different characters. Like Loki.
Most people know Loki as the Norse god of mischief and/or evil. In old Pre-Christian mythology he's more a god of chaos--the Lord of Misrule. In later tales he begins to shift toward evil, taking on aspects of the Christian deity of evil.
In Marvel comics, particularly the stories of Thor, Loki is also considered a villain.
I, on the other hand, wanted to something different. In my universe Loki's one of the immortals, a race of beings who fled to an Earth very much like our own after their own world was destroyed. Loki's a scientist, though not what anyone would consider a particularly good one. While most scientists would prefer to make a rational, reasoned approach to things, Loki tends toward gut-level inspiration and experimentation. Which, as one can imagine, leads to a lot of trouble.
Take "Loki's Sin." It's the title of my very first book, as well as a term coined to describe what Loki did. he has a habit of going off half-cocked and doing things without considering the possible ramifications. The law of unintended consequences has Loki's name written all over it.
In trying to recreate the virus that made him immortal to save the life of a young woman with whom he'd grown rather attached, Loki accidentally turns her into a vampire. The first real vampire, as a matter of fact. But he's just getting started. He also discovered that humanity had lost its ability to work magic not through anything we had done, but because the alien Cen (or Centians, in the first book) had damaged our DNA to take away the gift. Loki introduced a series of nanoviruses to fix this malady, as well as other perceived maladies, but didn't really grasp what he was setting in motion.
Loki killed tens of thousands of people as their bodies fought and rejected the viruses. Those who survived, however, were enhanced in various ways. They became superheroes and wielders of magic.
He'd honestly only had the best of intentions. Unfortunately, we all know where that particular not-so-yellow brick road leads.
So Loki's neither hero nor villain in my universe. Just a guy prone to making really big mistakes.
Most people know Loki as the Norse god of mischief and/or evil. In old Pre-Christian mythology he's more a god of chaos--the Lord of Misrule. In later tales he begins to shift toward evil, taking on aspects of the Christian deity of evil.
In Marvel comics, particularly the stories of Thor, Loki is also considered a villain.
I, on the other hand, wanted to something different. In my universe Loki's one of the immortals, a race of beings who fled to an Earth very much like our own after their own world was destroyed. Loki's a scientist, though not what anyone would consider a particularly good one. While most scientists would prefer to make a rational, reasoned approach to things, Loki tends toward gut-level inspiration and experimentation. Which, as one can imagine, leads to a lot of trouble.
Take "Loki's Sin." It's the title of my very first book, as well as a term coined to describe what Loki did. he has a habit of going off half-cocked and doing things without considering the possible ramifications. The law of unintended consequences has Loki's name written all over it.
In trying to recreate the virus that made him immortal to save the life of a young woman with whom he'd grown rather attached, Loki accidentally turns her into a vampire. The first real vampire, as a matter of fact. But he's just getting started. He also discovered that humanity had lost its ability to work magic not through anything we had done, but because the alien Cen (or Centians, in the first book) had damaged our DNA to take away the gift. Loki introduced a series of nanoviruses to fix this malady, as well as other perceived maladies, but didn't really grasp what he was setting in motion.
Loki killed tens of thousands of people as their bodies fought and rejected the viruses. Those who survived, however, were enhanced in various ways. They became superheroes and wielders of magic.
He'd honestly only had the best of intentions. Unfortunately, we all know where that particular not-so-yellow brick road leads.
So Loki's neither hero nor villain in my universe. Just a guy prone to making really big mistakes.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Where my characters' get their kick-ass
Despite popular opinion, not all writers are weedy little geeks blinking at you from between horn-rimmed glasses. Okay, yeah, some of us wear glasses--probably a side effect of squinting at pages under harsh sunlight. Or something like that.
Fact is that many writers have spent considerable time learning various combat arts--from the proper use of firearms to archery and even the martial arts. I'm a firm believer that one should try to know something about the subject about which you're writing. If you're describing a sword-fight, you should have some knowledge of the mechanics involved.
My own personal love affair with the martial arts goes all the way back to 1971... and a little movie called "Billy Jack." Probably something your typical 5 year old shouldn't see. But I did. And seeing this character, this Vietnam vet (like my dad) standing up to a bunch of bullies picking on a bunch of hippies (like my dad's friends) hit me right where I lived.
This was the movie that started it for me. I was in Kenpo classes by the time I was 6. Between them and tumbling classes I had a fairly strong foundation by the time we moved to Oregon.
My dad's knowledge came from Force Recon training, and he passed that along at the same time he tried out some of his weirder training techniques to me. I swear, though I don't think he ever watched a Chinese kung fu movie in his life, he took more than a few pages from their book. I got to carry half-full five gallon buckets of water 50 yards to water the animals in the barn...for example.
I was a little kid, so I got really good at dodging. I didn't have the strength to stand up to most of the people who wanted to wallop me. My mouth got me into a whole lot of trouble, though. I learned very early on that no matter how fast your mouth moves, it can't defend you from a punch in the face. That's where the first and most vital animal-form martial art comes in. Rabbit. I was the fastest kid at my school. I know that for a fact.
When I was 13 and we'd left the farm life behind, my dad put me in kenpo school once again in Boise. That lasted six months or so until I dropped out. Yeah, I know. It was hard and I had a lot of other things I wanted to do. But it worked as more grounding.
For the next several years I picked up techniques and things from adults I met--people skilled in one art or another, from Wing Chun to Tae Kwon Do. But in my early twenties I was introduced to escrima in a college self-defense class and I fell in love. Simplistic in concept, but eminently variable in application, escrima was like the embodiment of everything I'd ever discovered about the martial arts. As Bruce Lee taught--it's not about form, but technique. It's about what works. (Something my father and Bruce believed in common, as it happens).
Before anyone starts to wonder, no--I wasn't ever some great martial artist. I considered myself adept, merely competent. The only fights I lost as an adult were those in which I was sucker-punched. If that says anything. I'd always been taught that the real reason to learn the arts was to avoid fighting--to have the confidence to stand tall and not appear an easy victim. And eventually I mastered my greatest weakness--my big mouth.
The personal style I developed from all these disparate sources over the years was ultimately adaptive, and ruthless. My dad always taught me that fighting wasn't a game, that it didn't have rules. He opposed competition fighting because he always figured it would interfere with the ability to fight in a life-or-death situation. I don't know, but I know that several of my lead-in moves wouldn't be acceptable in a ring.
One of the things I passed on to others was that nearly anything can be a weapon--or, if not a weapon, at least a distraction. I more than once used a cigarette as a means to stop a fight from starting. And if that isn't successful use of one's environment, I don't know what is.
A few people have observed that my fight scenes reflect first-hand knowledge, and that the way the fights go seem somehow inevitable. And yet natural. My characters aim for weak points, not strong points. They won't fire a punch to someone's jaw, but strike instead to nerve clusters between muscle groups, or to the side of the neck (right or left--both relatively effective and not likely lethal), or to the eyes, nose, groin, solar plexus. Ruthlessness in a fight is something nearly all my characters have in common--regardless of the style of martial arts they supposedly studied.
These days the only martial arts I'm really capable of are in my head. All the knowledge is still there, the reflexes still as tuned as they ever were. But performing most of the techniques I once threw off as casually as a fire emits sparks would cost me in residual pain. Particularly now that my shoulder's all messed up due to my carelessness.
I'm not half the man I used to be, but maybe I'm twice the man I thought I was back when I was young and stupid.
All in all, I prefer writing about fighting than participating in it. I'd rather gather friends than best my enemies--even assuming I had any. Which I don't. Oh, okay. I sent Bill O'Reilly an email suggesting he put me on his enemy's list--since he was advertising that he had one (couldn't resist) but I doubt he's going to be coming around wanting to beat my ass.
Besides, I'm pretty sure I could take him.
Fact is that many writers have spent considerable time learning various combat arts--from the proper use of firearms to archery and even the martial arts. I'm a firm believer that one should try to know something about the subject about which you're writing. If you're describing a sword-fight, you should have some knowledge of the mechanics involved.
My own personal love affair with the martial arts goes all the way back to 1971... and a little movie called "Billy Jack." Probably something your typical 5 year old shouldn't see. But I did. And seeing this character, this Vietnam vet (like my dad) standing up to a bunch of bullies picking on a bunch of hippies (like my dad's friends) hit me right where I lived.
This was the movie that started it for me. I was in Kenpo classes by the time I was 6. Between them and tumbling classes I had a fairly strong foundation by the time we moved to Oregon.
My dad's knowledge came from Force Recon training, and he passed that along at the same time he tried out some of his weirder training techniques to me. I swear, though I don't think he ever watched a Chinese kung fu movie in his life, he took more than a few pages from their book. I got to carry half-full five gallon buckets of water 50 yards to water the animals in the barn...for example.
I was a little kid, so I got really good at dodging. I didn't have the strength to stand up to most of the people who wanted to wallop me. My mouth got me into a whole lot of trouble, though. I learned very early on that no matter how fast your mouth moves, it can't defend you from a punch in the face. That's where the first and most vital animal-form martial art comes in. Rabbit. I was the fastest kid at my school. I know that for a fact.
When I was 13 and we'd left the farm life behind, my dad put me in kenpo school once again in Boise. That lasted six months or so until I dropped out. Yeah, I know. It was hard and I had a lot of other things I wanted to do. But it worked as more grounding.
For the next several years I picked up techniques and things from adults I met--people skilled in one art or another, from Wing Chun to Tae Kwon Do. But in my early twenties I was introduced to escrima in a college self-defense class and I fell in love. Simplistic in concept, but eminently variable in application, escrima was like the embodiment of everything I'd ever discovered about the martial arts. As Bruce Lee taught--it's not about form, but technique. It's about what works. (Something my father and Bruce believed in common, as it happens).
Before anyone starts to wonder, no--I wasn't ever some great martial artist. I considered myself adept, merely competent. The only fights I lost as an adult were those in which I was sucker-punched. If that says anything. I'd always been taught that the real reason to learn the arts was to avoid fighting--to have the confidence to stand tall and not appear an easy victim. And eventually I mastered my greatest weakness--my big mouth.
The personal style I developed from all these disparate sources over the years was ultimately adaptive, and ruthless. My dad always taught me that fighting wasn't a game, that it didn't have rules. He opposed competition fighting because he always figured it would interfere with the ability to fight in a life-or-death situation. I don't know, but I know that several of my lead-in moves wouldn't be acceptable in a ring.
One of the things I passed on to others was that nearly anything can be a weapon--or, if not a weapon, at least a distraction. I more than once used a cigarette as a means to stop a fight from starting. And if that isn't successful use of one's environment, I don't know what is.
A few people have observed that my fight scenes reflect first-hand knowledge, and that the way the fights go seem somehow inevitable. And yet natural. My characters aim for weak points, not strong points. They won't fire a punch to someone's jaw, but strike instead to nerve clusters between muscle groups, or to the side of the neck (right or left--both relatively effective and not likely lethal), or to the eyes, nose, groin, solar plexus. Ruthlessness in a fight is something nearly all my characters have in common--regardless of the style of martial arts they supposedly studied.
These days the only martial arts I'm really capable of are in my head. All the knowledge is still there, the reflexes still as tuned as they ever were. But performing most of the techniques I once threw off as casually as a fire emits sparks would cost me in residual pain. Particularly now that my shoulder's all messed up due to my carelessness.
I'm not half the man I used to be, but maybe I'm twice the man I thought I was back when I was young and stupid.
All in all, I prefer writing about fighting than participating in it. I'd rather gather friends than best my enemies--even assuming I had any. Which I don't. Oh, okay. I sent Bill O'Reilly an email suggesting he put me on his enemy's list--since he was advertising that he had one (couldn't resist) but I doubt he's going to be coming around wanting to beat my ass.
Besides, I'm pretty sure I could take him.
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Big booms come in little packages
I have a new favorite martial arts flick. The people who know me best know of my love for the genre. My love affair with the martial arts goes back a long way--to Billy Jack and Enter the Dragon... In the theaters. I was barely old enough to be in school, but I was on my way to being a serious martial arts junkie.
This movie, a Thai offering called--of all things--Chocolate, features the skills of a young woman I've never heard of before and the direction of the man responsible for the Tony Jaa films "The Protector" and "Ong Bak, Thai Warrior."
I've also got a fondness for kick-ass heroines. As anyone who's read any of my books might already know. If it would fit into my WIP I'd be writing in a young Thai heroine in homage to JeeJa Yanin. This girl kicks serious ass with high-flying style. Supple, quick as a striking serpent, and acrobatic as a bounding spider monkey, the autistic savant Zen strikes confusion, if not fear, into the hearts of her enemies.
I enjoyed the other two Thai action flicks I've seen, but this one hit all the right notes. Just perfect. I'm pretty sure I'll watch this movie again and again, just to see JeeJa do her thing. Move over, Milla... this girl is poised to take your crown as kickass queen of the universe.
When I start making films, my heroines are going to have their work cut out for them. It's a good thing my choreography isn't going to be quite as high-flying. But if I can get them to work even a fraction as hard as JeeJa did in this film, I'll feel like I've accomplished something.
It's good to dream.
This movie, a Thai offering called--of all things--Chocolate, features the skills of a young woman I've never heard of before and the direction of the man responsible for the Tony Jaa films "The Protector" and "Ong Bak, Thai Warrior."
I've also got a fondness for kick-ass heroines. As anyone who's read any of my books might already know. If it would fit into my WIP I'd be writing in a young Thai heroine in homage to JeeJa Yanin. This girl kicks serious ass with high-flying style. Supple, quick as a striking serpent, and acrobatic as a bounding spider monkey, the autistic savant Zen strikes confusion, if not fear, into the hearts of her enemies.
I enjoyed the other two Thai action flicks I've seen, but this one hit all the right notes. Just perfect. I'm pretty sure I'll watch this movie again and again, just to see JeeJa do her thing. Move over, Milla... this girl is poised to take your crown as kickass queen of the universe.
When I start making films, my heroines are going to have their work cut out for them. It's a good thing my choreography isn't going to be quite as high-flying. But if I can get them to work even a fraction as hard as JeeJa did in this film, I'll feel like I've accomplished something.
It's good to dream.
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