April 26th, 2004

there!, Hello

Tears, Fears, and Rumbly Tummys.

It was a Good Weekend, though it got off on the weird foot.

Friday, I jetted from work early, and disappeared into a study cubicle in the library. The air conditioning was on, the weather was abysmally cold, and by the end of my two hour revision session, I couldn't feel my fingers. However, my sf-ish story "Skunked" was leaner and meaner. I let Trista read through it, and she agreed it was better, though still sad. Strange, I view this story as a comedy, though the ending is kind of miserable for one character -- the one we probably most identify with. I mailed it on Saturday, and of course today I think of a better title while walking into work. Instead, I should have called it "Skunked: The Incredibly True Scandal of Fentin Bozon and the Piezoelectric Super Bra." One word changed, and makes it sound like one of those America Undercover episodes from HBO -- do they still do these? Interesting question, to which I have no answer...

Friday evening, we visited Amanda, Joe and Tom for Joe's birthday. We watched the excreble flick "Class of Nuke Em High". It made me wonder what the hell I was thinking when I was so Troma obsessed. Well, we all grow up, I suppose. However, Joe and I kicked around the idea of doing a short zombie movie starring Tom. The premise is almost cinematic: "One man. One zombie. No holds barred." I witnessed the idea blossom, gave a quick summary of some events (including angles) and it might actually get off the ground. I'll type out the script tonight, perhaps. 15 pages or less, no sweat. The only problem stands to be the project expanding into unfilmable territory; Joe reminds me of Jay and John, give them a nice, brief idea -- a starting point -- and they immediately want to go huge with it, like they'll never have another chance to do this, so why not throw in everything under the sink and the kitchen sun too. This will require serious reins. If we could convince Melonnie to join in, I think she'd make a killer zombie (pun certainly intended). I woke up Saturday depressed about the movie idea, as it looks like I'll have work on two fronts -- one the project itself, and two, reining in my partner (who wants to be director; I've solved this little dilemna, however. I thought that we could work this flick mostly his way -- though we'll keep in the realm of our budgetary concerns; then, we can make another 15 minute flick my way, tag them together and we've got a half hour video).

I've been turning over the idea of injecting some satire into this zombie story, relating to the Atkins New Diet Revolution resurgence.

Saturday was a day of feeling oogy. Stomach nastiness. I decided not to go to the titty bar that evening for Joe's B-day. I still managed to mail "Skunked" to Asimov's SF magazine, and "Uno Dinero" to Ellory Queen's Mystery Magazine.

Sunday, Trista and I watched three eps of Bab-5 Season 5, including Neil Gaiman's episode "Day of the Dead." I enjoyed them all.

I also finished "Odd Thomas" (4 stars out of 5, a fun read), finished reading "Dreams in the Witch House" by HP Lovecraft (aloud to Trista; 4 stars out of 5), read *The Wolves in the Walls* by Neil Gaiman (aloud to Trista, 5 stars, excellent, excellent, excellent!), read *The Attraction* by Douglas Clegg (4 stars out of 5, a great, spooky read!), read Tribebook: Black Furies (4 stars out of 5, a good Werewolf: The Apocalypse sourcebook), and started reading *The Coven* by Edward Lee (so far, a little slow, but decent, early Lee; soon, I'm sure it'll get hardcore splatterporn intense).

THE OLD GAMING AS ART RANT:
Sunday evening, I finished the Victorian Age Vampire Prelude for Trista's character (and creeped her out), and started Kat's character's prelude (and made her cry). All in all, excellent gaming. People don't understand why I like to see people cry or get scared or otherwise emote during gaming. If it's a real response to story or situation (not frustrated "I DUNNO WHAT TO DO!" tantruming), then it is a beautiful thing. Art touches the soul; Art draws out powerful emotional responses. If it can ever achieve this, Gaming transcends its "geeky pasttime" reputation, and becomes something truly wonderful -- a shared moment of Artistic beauty. It's a little gem, that probably cannot be explained properly. The fact that it's shared makes it all the more special. Too often, gaming is just a removed, distant hobby; however, some times, it becomes something more. Gaming can touch your heart, open your eyes, and change your life.

This week, White-Wolf brings an official end to their line of World of Darkness books. Many of them are already out of print. Bummer.
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