|
|
Ah, what a glorious time of year it is. And what glorious people about us. And what big teeth they have, grandmother. The better to floss with you, my dear...
Saturday, October 09, 2004
| | | | |
| Progress Report:: Joe | | 5:51 PM |
| | | | | |
Just a quick update, nothing too interesting beyond that, I'm afraid.
Finished the last track "Firefly" and am about 75% done on another "Shallow" If I'm not careful I just might finish the album before Halloween. Strange, no? Also have the next Feature and need to go through it and such so hopefully it will be up in the next week or so. Tis another winner. And I know I promised to edit part one of "Softer, Shallow" last week, but I lied. Maybe this weekend.
Anyway, Twins are winning (yea!), Red Sox won (boo!), Houston leads (boo!) and the Cards are looking to complete the sweep (awwww yeahhhhh!) so I'm baseball boy tonight. Playoffs seem to be bringing out the best in the supporting writers at the Birdhouse. I should probably step up as well. Hopefully I'll have a happy "we swept" thing to do after tonight...
-Joe
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
| | | | |
| Maaareee...:: Joe | | 11:53 PM |
| | | | | |
Bad things happen when I watch things related to politics. I suddenly have this urge to wretch compounded with an inexplicable feeling that I need to bathe. So, of course, between watching the Twins knock off the Yankees at home (whee!) and after watching my boys throw down and show the Dodgers why 105 wins deserves respect (sock it to me, sock it to me...) I waded through portions of the Vice-Presidential debate. Now Edwards just seems like that brown nosing kid who sat right behind you in elementary school who, for every questions, would raise his hand, holding it up with his other arm making little "ooo-ooo me, me!" noises. I know he's running with John Kerry, but it feels like that what John Edwards would really like is a little time in an isolated cabin so he and John Kerry could just cuddle and talk about their feelings.
On the other hand it's clear Dick Cheney really doesn't need George Bush and looks at him more like a partner than the #1 guy. But something struck me the more I watched (it was like a car accident, I couldn't stop watching for fear I'd miss some decapitated limbs or gray matter spattered about...) was the Cheney reminded me of someone. The more I watched, the more I felt like it was eerily familiar, and then it struck me: Dick Cheney is Mr. Potter from "It's a Wonderful Life."
As if I needed any other reason to dislike this entire election process, one of the VP's is the guy who tried to screw Jimmy Stewart--JIMMY STEWART!--out of his father's savings and loan. Who would want to hurt ol Jimmy or the good folks of Bedford Falls? I mean, I know Uncle Billy has his problems with the bottle, but c'mon.
Started and finished (!?!) a new song. Not sure if it'll make the album yet, but I'll keep ya posted...
-Joe
Well, two bits of stuff today for you faithful in Mammyland. First, not for the faint of heart, Rex Havoc sent this to me (although rumor has it a certain Mr. Josh had his hands in introducing it). It's the most horrible, most painfully funny thing I've ever seen. That's right, it's plastic-wrap fetish stories about, of all people, Roy Orbison. I am sooooooooo not making this up. Check out the haiku section (again, not making it up...) for a good laugh while dry heaving. I certainly hope these folks realize that poor Roy has passed on. If not, well, it's too horrible to even consider.
Please, don't read this if you think I'm kidding. I don't want letters from angry parents or folks scarred for life for reading what they think to be some twisted ruse. God help us all.
Secondly, I got this little tidbit o' joy in the mail. Seems the last place I sent out the "novel packet" (usually consisting of the first chapter, "Dinnertime," and a cover letter/synopsis) was finally reviewed and turned into recycling scrap paper. (For an example of what not to do, check out this earlier entry listed under "Publishings Triumph of the Will") On the back of the form letter I found this:
Now, maybe it's just there thing to throw a little encouragement to the rabble, but I'd like to take it as a sign that there are people in this world who "get it." Even if it may not be the life-changing tome that the world may be looking for (because, you know, the world is stupid...) but on a preliminary skim "All Things Right and Beautiful" is at least fun. I think the more of it people read the more they'll see past the glib slyness and see something a bit more appreciable, but for now, fun'll do. At least it's something I can put on the back book cover, right?
So I soldier on, trying to decide what the next move(s) should be and plugging away at any number of projects in the meantime... and trying to remove the image of Roy Orbison in shrink wrap from my head.
God help us... every one.
We need it.
-Joe
Monday, October 04, 2004
| | | | |
| Words words words...:: Joe | | 5:49 AM |
| | | | | |
For a work weekend, I feel like I've got a freakish amount done. Hung wit' my boy Rex Havoc and his sidekick, Josh the boy wonder (I kid, of course. Josh has to be at least 22...) debated the relative greatness of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and finished the story I've been threatening to do for a while--now titled "The Great Despiser." That and I worked all weekend.
Now I've gotten some speculation on the last post (the secret identity of the one known as JLA/JLS/JLA-S/WTF) and I promise you, until my dying day, there will not be a painfully self-aware weepy post on this blog. I might be self-involved, egomaniacal and narcissistic, but even I know not to beat a dead horse. Just to put your mind at ease. Feel better? Good.
Now, I've been mulling something over. I've taken a look at everything I've done to this point writing-wise and think there just might be enough for a compilation of some sorts. It would be a ways down the road ("All Things Right and Beautiful" is still at the top of the heap, priority-wise). I've been thinking of making it a kind of Joe-Mammy.com presents: short stories kinda thing. Thoughts? Discuss.
Here's a little creative bit of something for you guys to enjoy until next time:
The kid was kicking the back of the seat again. "Are we there yet? I'm hot." "Roll down your window." "I want to be there now." "Well, we're not." "How much longer is it going to be?" "A while." "How long is that?" "I'll tell you when we're there." "But how looooooong..." accompanied by a couple rhythmic kicks to the back of the seat for emphasis. I fiddled with the rear view mirror. Kids were always the worst for that. Most people would sit back and try and talk and rationalize or fish for information, but kids were just bored. There's something about scope and importance that is lost on them. Probably just as well. "Is my mom gonna be there?" "Maybe later." "What about my gramma?" "Maybe later." "Who'll be there sooner?" I paused for a moment. I'd had people who had wailed from grief and those who cried for joy and now I had this. "Probably your gramma." "Why?" "I'm guessing." "Why?" "Because I don't know." "Why would you guess gramma?" "Because." There gets to be a point where you really wish you had a radio or something to turn on--some way to pretend like you don't hear them. You start to lose interest in their stories after a while. When I started everything seemed so new and interesting--you met all kinds from the dirtiest sinners to the humblest saints and everyone would have thoughts and feelings and I cared about them. Now, it's just a job. I've heard it all before and what I haven't heard I usually can guess. When it all comes down to it, I don't care about their wives or their pets or their kids or what they had or what they did, I'm just trying to get from point A to point B so I can start all over again. It's really quite silly. I don't interact or mingle or dawdle not because I want to get it all done--there will always be more, I'm just tired of doing it. Somedays I wish I could just stop and get out and not come back, but everyone has their role and their place and at the end of the day I know where I belong regardless of whether I like it. "Are you mad at me?" "What? No." "You never say nothin'." "I'm thinking." "About what?" "Grown up stuff." "Are we there yet?" "No." "Why does it have to take so long?" "No idea." "Charon?" "What?" "Is it going to be nice there?" "Yeah, it's nice." "Charon?" "What?" "How much longer?"
-Joe
|
|
|
