4 out of 7 scientists prefer Chewbacca's crossbow
meanwhile, behind the facade of this innocent looking doghouse...
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Saturday, November 12, 2005
What is a story? What is structured writing? What constitutes a beginning middle and end, and thereby bankable marketable material? Where do ideas come from? Where does the diligence and forebearance to bring said ideas to fruition in the form of polished manuscript come from? Why doesn’t everyone write all the time? Why are not all our thoughts published in weighty tomes in cavernous libraries full of archival editions, not the electronic, the literal, the feel, the actuality, of a book, of paper wrapped together between thicker paper. But this requires investment, pooling of actual resources to create somoething from potentially nothing, which requires belief, future monies down the road justifying the investment, and thereby people, editors, to read weighty tomes still in electronic or jumbled pile of paper format, no matted cover, no artistic rendition professionally rendered. No, apparent crap run of the mill and without a name nothing to rectify one man or woman’s eye to an author’s vision and therefore free the pursestrings of injustice. But this is a necessary system or else you’d have that giant library full of crap, and our cities are overpopulated by bulky and eye-sore inducing edificies anyway, now aren’t they? Ok, commercial’s over. Johnny walked down the street, just to get a sandwich. Ok, and a Snapple iced tea. That’s all he was trying to do. Just get that mayonaisse plus toasted bread and salted cured meat taste in his mouth. Maybe some olives? He wasn’t gonna push it any further than that. But then he saw her. And they talked. And she was beautiful, engaging, witty, and did he mention blistering hot? So he followed back to her house. And now they were kissing, hugging, holding, she had her hand on his joint, and it was all good, and out of nowhere, he was thinking, but I really want to eat my sandwich. See? That’s something, but it’s just not good enough, it’s a starter. A mildly interesting little tidbit of a non-story that 99% likelihood will never become anything. It’s a salad with potential to turn into a seafood buffet, but it doesn’t finish, it doesn’t middle, it’s a kicker on the field looking at those goal posts and thinking, yeah? So? Fuck this. Plus it’s a bastardized seinfeld ripoff. Not completely, but partly pirated. But what isn’t pirated. What isn’t stolen and transversed for the next party’s usage to hopefully transmogrify into a new idiom? I mean I guess you could go on and on about Johnny's obsession with the sandwich, to the point where he's walking down the street getting attacked by phantom salami slices, or poisoning his mother with arsenic cuz he thinks she's a giant jar of vinegar, i mean, yeah, there's lots of possible outs, or ins, or overs, hey, why not have Johnny dress up like a giant sandwich and fight crime along the rooftops of Toledo, Ohio? Ten minutes to cal usc. My time is up. You’ve been, um, you’re not there, are you? Okey doke. Aloha. Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Hi. The clips lost their first game last nite in Minnie and are now 3-1. you care deeper than atlantis’s most cavernous well. Admit it. They were the last team in the western conference to lose a game. This is also something of which your caringness and concern factors are, if you were to multiply and cube them, could very well take over new york city and Tokyo combined in their massiveness and sheer volume. Mexico city would be their next stop and an easy one at that. Oh yeah, ronnie’s got a (relatively) new site I haven’t plugged yet. He’s an official dot commer. So all three of you go rush over there and click on a bunch of shit so he gets brownie points from walmart. Not that he does, but I thought it sounded nice. Monday, November 07, 2005
The clippers are 3-0. I’ll leave it at that, for now. In other news, sigh and a shalom, but there is nothing else to be said, except I love watching poker. Now that’s cause for a serious self check in resident space in mental capacity. Yeah, it’s obfuscatious as hell, but impossible to deny, I mean, just try. Denying it, that is. I’ll shut you down so fast on that thesis your flux capacitor will be in nonfluxing mode. Long beach, staten island, what else you want me to swear on, stack of bibles? Bring em on, and I believe in some of that izm, so it won’t be like how Dracula can attack some jewish dude with a crucifix, it’d be like trying to get violent with a Buddhist with a rake, you know, he believes but it’s not the core basis, yah, that’s the best possible analogy in reference to it that I think could possibly be made, notwithstanding the far reaching possibility that you actually stop to consider and ponder and creatively come up with something better in a mildly constructive manner, but I mean, yeah right, who does that anymore? I mean, please, 1982 is long over and done with, unless you’ve got lions jumping through t-shirts, don’t even talk to me about that. |