A Most Sincere Apology to Those I've Offended, Complete with Good Intentions, Promises, and Pie Crusts

 

Bill Maher: A Fall From Grace That Left a Hole in the Ground Like Wile E. Coyote

 

Coca-Cola: a Valid Use of Food Stamps Even If OTHER POOR PEOPLE Don't Agree

 

Mickey Atkins vs. Bill Maher

 

Council of Geeks

 

The Over Party

VERSE 1

Get out the corn chips, get out the queso dip

Watch him walk over a banana peel and slip

Get the chocolate cake, eat it while he breaks

Apologizes a thousand times for a big mistake

CHORUS 1

Garrison is over party

Is over party

He’s over party

Party, party, party!

Party, party, party!

VERSE 2

She literally did nothing to deserve your online scorn

Unless you’re a bunch of incels looking for some porn

You drank your champagne while she screamed in pain

If it happened to me, I’d probably go the fuck insane

CHORUS 2

Lindsay Ellis is over party

Is over party

She’s over party

Party, party, party!

Party, party, party!

BRIDGE

Yo, why don’t you go after the right target for a change?

VERSE 3

He cares more about the rights of Nazis and Proud Boys

Than he does of ordinary folks and the unemployed

He says he’s one of us, but he’s quickly losing trust

Because for him, hoarding greenbacks is always a must

CHORUS 3

Bill Maher is over party

Because he deserves it

Because he talks shit

Throws a fit

Makes his audience rage quit

CHORUS 4

Everybody sing!

The world is over party

Because it’s a shit hole

It’s out of control

No soul

Just check the Twitter poll

Mourning the Loss of Beauty

 My name is Garrison and I don’t think of myself as an attractive person. I held off on saying that for as long as I could. It’s not that I don’t think men’s beauty standards are an important idea to dissect and analyze, no, no, no. I was more afraid of potential responses I could get for saying such a thing in public. Some might be kind and say that I don’t look THAT bad. Some might accuse me of being shallow. Some might be realistic and say that every type of beauty fades away eventually. Some might be well-intentioned and say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder…which doesn’t sound promising if the beholders refuse to acknowledge me in any way.

But there’s one response I’ve always feared throughout my entire life. I don’t know the official name for this trope, but I call it the Disaster Porn Excuse. It’s where you talk about your problems with someone and that same ignoramus reminds you that others have it worse. Of course other people have it worse! What is this, the Sadness Olympics? Do I only get a bronze medal for believing myself to be physically ugly? The Disaster Porn Excuse goes something like this: “You know, Chud…there’s a Corona Virus pandemic going on…there’s police brutality all over the country…wildfires and other natural disasters are happening at an alarming rate…and you’re bitching and whining about your lack of good looks? Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk! Get a life!”

Not believing in my own physical beauty (or lack thereof) isn’t anywhere near as devastating as a Corona Virus pandemic. I get it. But that’s not what my brain said to me the other day. Just because someone has it worse, doesn’t invalidate your own problems. Does there have to be an earthquake and a volcanic eruption happening at the same time in Port Orchard for me to have a say in my own personal difficulties? It’s not right to compare and contrast problems. And yes, even having said all of this, not being physically attractive still sounds like small potatoes. It does sound shallow and whiny…until it’s not.

My senior year of high school was pretty much the only time in my life where I was confident in my sex appeal. I had a hairstyle that was parted down the middle and curled at the tips. I wore sunglasses even indoors. I wore a leather jacket that I had no business owning given my family’s income. I had a beard that made me look older than my teenaged years. I had and still have hazel eyes that could be stared into for hours. Judging from all the smiles, giggles, and flirting I got from other girls at my school, I think a few of them caught feelings for me. They didn’t come out and say they were in love with me, but I got hugs from a few of them, they petted my shoulders, one girl drummed on my back with her hands…and you know what? As shallow as it seems now, getting this kind of attention is addictive. It’s validating. It makes me feel like anything other than an outcast. After a freshman year where I was almost bullied into suicide, not feeling like an outcast was pretty fucking amazing.

That is until the voices in my head started getting louder and louder. The voices threatened to kick my legs and break them. They threatened to kick me in the ass and make me shit myself. They threatened to make me their bitch, this being the worst of my schizophrenic insults due to my strong sense of individuality at the time. The voices got so bad that for the second time in my life, I threatened to kill myself. Thank god I was able to get the medication I needed and start the long hard road to recovery. That should have been the end of my misery…until it wasn’t. The thing about schizophrenia medication is that it numbs your emotions and makes you gain weight. Remember the smoking hot sex god that I was all throughout my senior year of high school? He was replaced by a three-hundred pound zombie who couldn’t cut it in a college sociology class or even technical writing. Technical fucking writing! But if I didn’t take the medication, I’d either be dead or in a nuthouse, so being a three hundred pound invalid was the lesser of two evils. It’s a classic case of death or chi-chi.

Losing my beauty was going to happen eventually as it does with every person on the planet. I just would have liked to keep it for longer than my teenaged years. College is supposed to be a time when the real magic happens, when partying, sex, and love are the cornerstones of good education. I had my fair share of crushes, but I never acted on them. Not once. I didn’t believe I had the right to. Why? Because my good looks were stolen from me. I didn’t get my face bashed in with a baseball bat and needed reconstructive surgery. My looks were stolen from me by an invisible force that happened at random. It was complete and utter bad luck that the public ignored me and went out of their way to sidestep me. I had very few friends in college and I owe all of that…to bad fucking luck. Remember how addictive being sexually fawned over was? I was still addicted, but had some serious fucking withdrawal.

It wasn’t until after I graduated from college that I started my own personal education with You Tube videos and internet research. You know that feeling when people treat you differently because you may or may not look good to them? There’s a name for that: the beauty bias. It’s something we all have whether we want to admit it or not. When an employer has to choose between a pool of candidates, he’ll go for the sexiest one. When people decide what friends they’re going to connect with, they’ll choose the sexy ones. Even in celebrity culture, the sexier musicians, actors, and influencers are the ones who get the most opportunities. 

Would Nightwish have become a successful heavy metal band if Tarja Turunen had a bulge in her neck the size of a basketball? Would Evanescence be a worldwide phenomenon if Amy Lee’s face was disfigured by a wood chipper? Would In This Moment have been a smash hit if Maria Brink sharted herself onstage at every show? I hate saying this, but the answer to all of these questions is no. That’s not my answer. That’s the public’s answer. It’s sick, it’s wrong, it’s unfair, but it’s reality. While nobody would come out and tell me I was too ugly to fit in, I knew deep inside that’s what they were thinking.

So what do we do to curb this bias? Honestly, I don’t have the one true answer to that. Sure, we could share Body Positivity memes all day long. We could call out shallowness in magazines and TV shows. We could be more inclusive even if we’re not feeling it at first. But these are all surface-level solutions that can only work if everybody gets involved, which they won’t. That’s why I never watch You Tube videos from fitness influencers: they’re the biggest offenders when it comes to making fat and ugly people feel like shit. Many of those exercises are impossible for an obese person to do on a consistent basis. Food addiction is very real. But hey, it’s all our fault, right? We’ve got nobody to blame but ourselves according to these fitness influencers. We don’t lift enough weights. We don’t run far enough. We don’t eat enough rabbit food. But most importantly, we don’t inject enough steroids into our bloodstreams. You know what? Maybe I’d rather be fat and lazy than look like Hulk Hogan and The Ultimate Warrior. Come to think of it, if you do these super-intense exercises, you too can look like The Ultimate Warrior…in 2015…a year after he passed away from heart failure.

Since other people won’t fight our battles against poor self-esteem for us, we have to find ways to do it ourselves. We can surround ourselves with people who believe in Body Positivity. We can self-talk ourselves into feeling at least marginally good. During the days where we do feel good, we could hold onto that feeling for as long as we humanly can. Or if you’re schizophrenic like me, you can use your imagination to your advantage. When I came up with the idea for this essay, my mind was in the shitter. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I wanted to curse myself until I believed in my own bodily mediocrity. But I did something the other day to make myself sing a different tune. Will the feeling last forever? Probably not, but I take my little victories where I can get them.

I imagined a scenario where one of my online crushes confronted me in a hairdresser’s salon after I’ve spent the entire time doubting my own beauty. She said to me, “Your attractiveness doesn’t come from your soft hair…or your lovely eyes. That’s not where you draw your strength from. You draw your strength from your quietness. You’re an enigma in public. You have an air of mystery about you. You keep women at a distance because you’re considerate of them. And the more mysterious you are, the more they want to learn about you. And the more they can unlock from you…the more likely you are to trust them. Attraction has nothing to do with physical appearances. It’s about feeling comfortable and calm around whoever you’re with. If a woman can get you to be yourself around her without any filters…that’s when you know you’ve succeeded.”

Is any of this true? Maybe, maybe not, I couldn’t tell you firsthand. But does it make me feel good for the time being? You’re damn right it does. Being crushed on in high school made me feel good at the time. Now I have to find other ways to feel good. And when I find them, I want to hold onto my happiness for as long as I can. Finding temporary happiness may not always be attractive to the world around me. Then again, it doesn’t have to be. At the end of the day, the only one who gets to decide my worth is me. The sooner this is hammered into my brain, the better off I’ll be. Maybe happiness isn’t six-pack abs and a leather jacket. Maybe happiness is a bottle of Diet Coke and two pepperoni pizza Hot Pockets. I can do this…I have to do this…

If I can get one more jab in to solidify my TKO victory over poor self-esteem, Bill Maher has no business calling fat people ugly when he himself looks like a creature that crawled out of a mausoleum because a necromancer told him it was a good idea. He would know what a necromancer is if he didn’t thumb his nose at genre fiction. But even with his willful ignorance towards my generation, he knows deep down that he should be the one mourning his loss of beauty, not me. Oops! I guess the beauty bias is alive and well! Uh-oh!

Goodbye Bill Maher

***GOODBYE BILL MAHER***

I’ve had this topic idea on the shelf for over a year now. Anyone who’s known me for a long time knows that Bill Maher was at one point one of my favorite comedians and political commentators. I saw him perform in Seattle in 2013, which was also the same night where we couldn’t find the car afterwards, but that has nothing to do with this post. So when I finally say goodbye to Bill Maher in 2019, you know he must have done something incredibly shitty in order to lose my respect. Actually, it wasn’t just one thing he said or did. It slowly built up over the last few years. And yeah, one could argue that he was always obnoxious and bigoted from the beginning, but it wasn’t really noticeable until the latter years of the 2010’s. So…where do I start this lovely story?

In 2006, of course. That was when I saw my first episode of Real Time with Bill Maher. I can’t remember for the life of me what some of his jokes or talking points were, but I found them fucking hilarious and on-point. I decided from that point going forward that I would make watching his show a weekly ritual. Despite all of the wacky conservatives he sometimes invited on his panel, the show overall was fun to watch, especially the New Rules segment.

New Rule: You can’t bring a firearm to Wendy’s unless you plan to rob it. You’re not a gun enthusiast. You’re an ammosexual. If you want to die at Wendy’s so badly, you’ll have to do it the old fashioned way by eating their food.

New Rule: Couples who make out in public have to bring a bucket for me to throw up in. I didn’t come all the way to Applebee’s to be sickened by your dry humping. I came all the way to Applebee’s to be sickened by their food.

New Rule: Ice cream should stay nonpartisan. Some rightwingers decided to make ice cream to counter the lefties at Ben & Jerry’s with flavors like Gun Nut, Plane Vanilla, and Smaller Govern-Mint. But these conservatives are missing the point of Ben & Jerry’s. Hippie ice cream is fun because you eat it when you’re stoned.

New Rule: If churches don’t have to pay taxes, they also can’t call the fire department when they catch on fire. Sorry Reverend, but that’s one of those services that comes with paying in. I’ll use the fire department that I pay for. You can pray for rain.

Thirteen years I stuck with Bill Maher through the good and the bad. He entertained me, he strengthened by talking points, and I felt more alive having watched his shows. But then…something happened. Again, maybe he was always an obnoxious person and I didn’t notice it until now, but over the past few years, he had gotten worse. He began to criticize millennials. He began to make transphobic arguments. He rallied against vaccines. He fat-shamed people in the name of “good health”. He did all of these things behind a mask of virtue. He marketed himself as a liberal hero even though he’s actually a capitalist libertarian. I hung on his every word because of that. If anyone else had said the things he did, I would have given up on them sooner. But coming from Bill Maher, I secretly hoped it was a one-time thing that we could disagree on.

But the god-awful remarks weren’t one-offs. They happened over and over again across multiple shows, sometimes in succession. I kept struggling to find counterpoints to his arguments, not because I was wrong in my beliefs, but because his disgusting shit was stressing me the fuck out. He called millennials lazy and entitled (therefore proving his own point that ageism is the last acceptable prejudice we have). He called fat people virgins who couldn’t see their own dicks. He said transgender athletes were ruining sports (even though the sports were already boring with or without their participation). He referred to Caitlyn Jenner by masculine pronouns. If I listed off all of Bill Maher’s sins against my ears, we’d be here forever and a day.

But one night in January 2019 made me turn off the TV forever. I can’t remember the exact date, but Bill Maher did a New Rules segment where he basically exploited Stan Lee’s death. In criticizing comic book fans, he said, “I’m not happy that he’s dead; I’m sad that you’re all alive.” He took the role of creative gatekeeper, denouncing genre fiction (sci-fi, fantasy, romance, etc.) and exalting literary fiction no matter how boring it was. In that one segment, Bill Maher took a big dump on everything that I love as a creative writer. He shamed nerds for being passionate about what they love and told them to, “Grow up.” After that segment was mercifully over, I tapped out. No more Bill Maher for me. My parents still watch him, but I don’t. I can’t associate myself with people who demand conformity from their audience.

Ever since I cut myself off from Bill Maher’s content, I’ve never been happier. Of course, there will be people who insist I watch his show anyways so that I can get new perspectives and strengthen my debating skills. But what’s the point of strengthening my debating skills if the other side won’t listen? Bill Maher criticizes millennials all the time for being unable to take a joke, yet here he is deflecting criticism himself. He’s against cancel culture, yet doesn’t mind canceling people who disagree with him. I purposefully avoid political debates with even my closest friends, because in the end, it’s not productive and only results in furious anger on both sides. I want to be open-minded, but I’m not sure people like Bill Maher want to do that themselves. Open-mindedness is a two-way street. If I have to listen to your bigoted garbage, you have to listen to my talking points too. If debate can’t be a two-way street for me, then I’ll turn it into a no-way street. How’s that?

Bill Maher influenced my sense of humor in the early days of his show. I don’t regret that. I also don’t regret leaving him for higher ground. There are so many great comedians and pundits out there. John Oliver is one of them and he’s on the same channel as Bill Maher, if you can believe that. He’s delightfully British, ridiculously funny, and has a healthy dose of self-awareness. What about The Young Turks? They’re not comedians, but their talking points are strong as hell, almost bulletproof. Their skin is so thick that they welcome debate because they know they can win. Samantha Bee? Not nearly as funny as John Oliver, but she’s entertaining all the same. You might have to go out of your way to find alternatives to Bill Maher, but they exist and you’ll be grateful you did.

So…I’m going to close this by saying goodbye one last time to one of my all-time favorite influences. Goodbye, Bill Maher. We’ve had a good run together. You used to be cool. But I don’t like the person you’ve become. I don’t expect you to change your ways anytime soon. No, I don’t want you to be canceled. You don’t have to lose your job over the things you’ve said. All I’ll ever ask from you is self-awareness. If you’re going to be a shitty person, admit it to your audience and don’t hide behind a mask of liberalism. You won’t do that, though, because you’re stuck in your ways. Maybe it’s a Boomer thing, I don’t know. I guess that makes ageism “the last acceptable prejudice we have”. Then again, you started that war, so don’t be upset when you’re the one who has to finish it. Goodbye. Goodbye and forever!

***QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“It has been said, 'the truth will make men free.' The truth alone has never made anyone free. It is only doubt which will bring mental emancipation.”

-Anton LaVey-

Already Dead

VERSE 1

Your comedic delivery fell on deaf ears

Loyal sheep were the only source of cheers

You exploited death just for a punch line

Shrugged your shoulders like it was all fine

You’re not funny, if you were, I would laugh

You used to be cool in the distant past

Now that my eyes are wide fucking open

I know what the hell a clichéd trope is

CHORUS

He’s already dead

Can he finally rest?

He’s already dead

Enough with the mess!

VERSE 2

You’d commit necrophilia just for a joke

Commit grave robbery to spite the woke

Keep your millionaire ass from going broke

Keep your career from going up in smoke

The ones who loved him want your head

You should be the one on your deathbed

You should be the one who is violated

You’re the only one who is overrated

CHORUS

He’s already dead

Can he finally rest?

He’s already dead

Enough with the mess!

BRIDGE

Heaven forbid we be entertained

Heaven forbid you use your brain

Heaven forbid you get off the hate train

Heaven forbid we’re absolved from shame

VERSE 3

You call us immature for our literary tastes

When it comes to autocracy, we’re to blame

I never knew until now you were full of shit

But you disguise your hatred as a comedy bit

I’m changing the channel to something better

While you’re looking for a safe space protector

You can dish it out, but can’t take the heat

Everybody knows you’re easy to defeat

CHORUS

He’s already dead

Can he finally rest?

He’s already dead

Enough with the mess!

FINAL LINE

Excelsior, motherfuckers!

Bouncing Between Fantasy and Contemporary

***BOUNCING BETWEEN FANTASY AND CONTEMPORARY***

Whenever I’m trying to decide what’s next to write, I always ask myself what I’m not writing enough of or what I’m writing too much of. I’ll go through entire phases where I write just contemporary or just gory fantasy on-and-off. In 2018 alone, I’ve written three first draft novels that could be classified as drama. Silent Warrior is a high school drama that takes place in the present day and Incelbordination would also fall under the educational category.

Beautiful Monster? Well, that technically could be classified as a fantasy since it had elves, but there’s no magic system. Plus, the focus of the story was more about Windham’s PTSD rather than a mystical journey of sorts. I guess Beautiful Monster would be more of a drama than a fantasy in that respect, though one could debate that it falls under magical realism.

What about 2019? What have I written since January of this year? American Darkness 3 stories, yes, of course. I’ve rewritten Beautiful Monster from the ground up and I still consider it to be more drama than fantasy. Emilio & Marigold could technically be a fantasy by virtue of the lead villain being a giant who lives in the clouds. But in reality, that was more dramatic than fantastic as well since I’ve basically turned the story into one big debate over soft vs. hard parenting.

Commonsense would dictate that the genre of a story shouldn’t matter to me as long as the story itself is a compelling and entertaining read. Maybe I have done pretty well for myself with these dramas I’ve written over the last year and a half. But here’s where it starts to get tricky. Because I’ve been away from the fantasy genre for so long, I’ve found myself…I don’t want to say losing interest, because that will always be my bread and butter. It’s just that I haven’t had enough fantasy material in my diet, that’s all. When a muscle in your body doesn’t get enough exercise, it atrophies. Same thing goes for interest in the fantasy genre.

Another reason for me wanting to get back into the fantasy genre seems petty on the surface until you consider I’ve been a trusting fan of this celebrity for over a decade prior to his live TV rant. Of course, I’m talking about Bill Maher. I recently gave up watching his shows. I don’t even watch his New Rules segments on You Tube anymore. My loss of love for him has been a long time coming, with his many prejudiced statements about millennials, transsexuals, Middle Easterners, feminists, fat people, and other groups of people being prominent reasons why.

But then he threw a huge hissyfit about people who enjoy Stan Lee’s work, labeling them as “immature” and “idiotic”. Superheroes, fantasy creatures, and sci-fi adventures are my livelihood and Bill Maher just shit all over it because he’s a crabby old Baby Boomer. Getting back into the fantasy genre just to piss him off? Good enough reason for me! Goodbye, Bill Maher. You used to be cool, now you’re just a shitty old man. I’m a geeky millennial and I’m proud of it!

So…what kinds of things could I start writing again now that I’m awaiting the right opportunity to have Beautiful Monster critiqued? Well, I don’t want to work on a full-blown novel right away, because I’ll have my hands full with editing the shit out of this new version of Beautiful Monster. Plus, I’m not quite done getting Emilio & Marigold into tiptop shape. What about short stories? Poison Tongue Tales 3? Sure, I can do that! In fact, here’s a synopsis for what will be my contest entry for the WSS this week. It’s called “3:16” and it’s for a “Black Widow” prompt.

CHARACTERS:

1. Death Marshal, Mummy Hammer Fighter
2. JoJo Tornado, Human Aeromancer
3. Marilyn Manson and His Band
4. Audience and Bouncers

PROMPT CONFORMITY: The venue is called The Black Widow Amphitheater and it has a dark fantasy gimmick, complete with bouncers in hooded robes and Halloween lighting.

SYNOPSIS: A Marilyn Manson concert is taking place at an outdoor festival, which prompts conservative wizard JoJo to try and knock the electricity out with her wind magic. Her reckless spell casting causes her to tip over a stage prop onto the statue grave of an ancient creature known as Death Marshal, thus waking the angry beast from his sleep. Because Death Marshal is a mummy, he inherits knowledge and wisdom on the fly. He picks up a discarded Stone Cold Steve Austin T-shirt and takes on the Bionic Redneck persona as he “stomps a mud hole” into JoJo and “walks it dry”.

It’d be worth it just to watch Bill Maher shit his pants. Then again, he does that enough already, which is why he probably wears Depends underneath his Men’s Warehouse suit every time he goes on TV. Is “3:16” the most philosophically powered story I’ve ever written? Will it make you question life? No! It’s just for fucking fun! Enjoy yourselves! I’m Garrison Kelly! Until next time, try to enjoy the daylight! By the way, my sign-off phrase is what the narrator says in the closing credits for Tales From the Dark Side, another TV show that is likely to trigger Bill Maher. Man, I’m really letting him have it tonight! Goddamn, that feels good!

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“I have seen the mystics play there once or twice, but I knew they had a reason. Enchantment plays its cards all right. Hand in hand with the workings of the season. Legends can be now and forever teaching us to love for goodness sake. Legends can be now and forever loved by the sun. Two and two go so close together whether there is hope that is torn apart. In the words of all that’s singing. Hand in hand, the beginning is at the start. Legends can be now and forever teaching us to reach for goodness sake. Legends can be now and forever loved by the sun. Who sings of all of love’s eternity? Whose shines so bright in all the songs of love’s unending spells? Only lightning strikes all that’s evil, teaching us to love for goodness sake. Hear the music of love eternal teaching us to reach for goodness sake. Legends can be now and forever teaching us to love for goodness sake. Sweet songs of youth. The wise. The meeting of all wisdom. To believe in the good in man.”

-Tangerine Dream singing “Loved By the Sun”, another piece of art that will drive Bill Maher bat shit insane-

***POST-SCRIPT***

Remember a blog entry I wrote months ago about my Muse of the Year for 2019? I thought it was going to be Dita Von Teese. I thought she was going to bring my creativity to new heights. But then I just ran back into the proverbial arms of 2018’s MotY, Sarah-Jane Redmond, who played Lucy Butler on the 1990’s TV show Millennium. Hey, there’s another show that will make Bill Maher’s head explode! It’s technically in the thriller category, but it has occult elements in it, such as Lucy Butler being a demon from hell who only uses her human form to seduce men into doing awful things.

Space Jockey

VERSE 1

Let’s go to Mars and drive flying cars

The whole desert planet is all but ours

Don’t worry about the lack of oxygen

Rise from the dead and then walk again

Open armed greeting from the Martians

Sweetheart deal, one hell of a bargain

Never mind that they shoot with ray guns

Or the gravity feels like hauling eight tons

CHORUS

Come on, space jockey! Come on, space jockey!

Dance in the moonlight and play tonsil hockey

Come on, space jockey! Come on, space jockey!

Never mind that this shit is way too damn cocky

VERSE 2

Let’s try to hook up with Faye Valentine

Give her a ring and ask, “Will you be mine?”

Let’s go on adventures with Spike Spiegel

Fly through space like an American eagle

Let’s catch bounty heads, be broke anyways

Just like on earth, same old shit every day

This isn’t all just arrogant wish fulfillment

We’re a fucking team and we always kill it

EXTENDED CHORUS 1

Come on, space jockey! Come on, space jockey!

Dance in the moonlight and play tonsil hockey

Come on, space jockey! Come on, space jockey!

Never mind that this shit is way too damn cocky

See you, space cowboy! See you, space cowboy!

Fill your heart with carbon dioxide and pure joy

May the force be with you, my Jedi knight!

Let’s have a light saber battle on Mars tonight

BILL MAHER QUOTE

Fuck Mars! Make Earth Great Again!

VERSE 3

Burning fossil fuels and killing the planet

Cutting down jungles so the rich can have it

Rinse and repeat on the planet of Mars

Control C, control V, drive flying cars

This ain’t the Jetsons, it’s the real world

On Planet Mars our flag shall not unfurl

It doesn’t take Yoda to figure it out

No such surface will you breathe in and out

EXTENDED CHORUS 2

Live long and prosper, you sons of bitches!

This conspiracy theory leaves me in stitches

I am Groot, motherfuckers! I am Groot!

Space colonization will not bear fruit

I’m Buzz Lightyear! I come in peace!

Then maybe this madness will finally cease

Come on, space jockey! Come on, space jockey!

The atmosphere is dead, the land is rocky

FINAL LYRICS

Fuck Mars! X4

Shipping Meme

***SHIPPING MEME***

During the past few days, I’ve been having conversations with my friends Zero Urrea and Marie Krepps about how much fun it is to link two things together with the letter X (a practice commonly found in Japanese anime). Would you go to a concert that was featured as Korn X Starset? You’re damn right you would! Would you ever play a videogame that featured the team of Super Mario X M. Bison? Sure, why not? And of course, the X link is used to signify collaboration between two romantic partners. Cloud X Tifa, Mario X Peach, and Squall X Rinoa are all mainstream examples of this. You could also mix and match between genres and canons…and genders. Would you ever read an erotic fan fiction that featured Tifa Lockhart X Stephanie McMahon? You bet your sweet ass!

Which brings me to something authors might have to deal with if their work becomes famous enough: shipping. If you write a novel that’s highly enjoyable, your readers are definitely going to want to tinker with various combinations of characters as romantic couples, for better or worse. You know who’s not okay with this? Anne Rice, who went to great legal lengths to make sure her fans don’t do that to her books. Some people are okay with this, others are not. More important is how you feel about your own fans doing this to your books. Me personally? I think it’d be flattering no matter what the combinations ended up being.

Unfortunately, I only have one edited and published novel to my name and it’s not even a full length book, so I don’t have a wide roster of characters to work with. Then again, if I include minor characters, this meme could actually be lots of fun. So here’s how this works: I’m going to make a list of Occupy Wrestling characters, use a number generator to randomly pick two of them from that list, and discuss how they’d work as a couple. I won’t use the same character twice and I’ll only generate five different couples. Are you ready? I know I am!

1. Debra Winter, Human Valet
2. Desilu McCourt, Amazonian Knight
3. Dovald, Superhuman Knight
4. Garra, Superhuman Knight
5. Hall Markata, Undead Necromancer
6. Jason Finnegan, Human Wrestler
7. Keegan Day, Human CEO
8. Mitch McLeod, Human Wrestler
9. Monzo Bleeder, Orc Wrestler
10. Nina Jordan, Human Cop
11. Riley Warpthroat, Skeleton Knight
12. Rosie Rogers, Human Referee
13. Snake of Jehovah, Skeleton Monk
14. Stephanie McMillan, Human Wrestler
15. Teiji Roughhouse, Rat Wrestler

FIRST COUPLE: Riley X Keegan

THOUGHTS: Keegan’s blatant bigotry aside, these two would be perfect for each other. They’re both hell-bent on dominating the wrestling scene. They’re both sadistic. They can intimidate the hell out of anyone. And lastly (and this is the most important part), they both look like they were just brought to life by a necromancer. Maybe when these two are in the bedroom, Keegan can use the Day Family Gem as a ball gag for Riley. Keegan does control his minions with that magical MacGuffin, after all.

SECOND COUPLE: Snake of Jehovah X Dovald

THOUGHTS: Another pair of viciously monstrous villains? Sure, why not? Though considering the fact that all Snakes of Jehovah look the same covered up with monk robes and snake masks, Dovald could end up accidentally cheating with another minion. But if that were to happen, how exactly would they initiate the cheating? Snakes of Jehovah are skeletal minions, with no sexual orifices or genitalia, so the closest Dovald could get to achieving sexual pleasure is to take the snake mask off and go through the eye sockets.

THIRD COUPLE: Jason X Stephanie

THOUGHTS: At least we’re back into normal territory since they’re both humans. Plus, they actually have things in common that they could bond over. They’re wrestlers. They’re despicable heels. They’re both championship material. Ship them, damn it! There’s just one curiosity I have: if Jason is a three hundred pounder who suffers a heart attack in the first chapter, even if he lived through it, would he be healthy enough for sexual activity? Would he have to be on bottom while Stephanie was on top? Would he fall asleep halfway through and lose his erection? So many burning questions.

FOURTH COUPLE: Hall X Nina

THOUGHTS: Spoiler alert: Hall ends up using his necromantic powers to raise Nina from the dead as an ash-covered zombie. I’m more curious about what you, the readers, didn’t get to see when all that happened. You think Hall is into that kinky shit? Does he forgo apps like Tinder and Grinder and just settle for a trip to the cemetery? Well, he doesn’t have to anymore if he’s got Nina as his minion. While Nina isn’t the most attractive woman in my book, there’s something sexy about a woman in uniform.

FINAL COUPLE: Desilu X Debra

THOUGHTS: If it wasn’t for the fact that Desilu tried to snap Debra’s spine in two with a camel clutch, this could actually be somewhat normal. Debra is a bisexual who appreciates both masculine and feminine features in both genders. Desilu is a big fucking Amazonian who knows how to wrestle (not just in the ring). Hell, she could probably do a better job of protecting her than Mitch ever could. That, and Desilu is happy to train Debra in wrestling herself since that’s all Miss Winter really wants: to be self-reliant. Of course, if Debra is that desperate for wrestling lessons, she might have to take a serious beating at the hand of Keegan’s minions. Oh wait, that already happened.

Okay, I must admit that I had fun doing this. Maybe I can do it again when I publish another novel. Hell, even my unpublished first drafts could use some love and war. What if I took Mario Bryan from Watch You Burn and paired him up with Daniel Mercer from Demon Axe? Or as the Japanese would say, Mario X Daniel. They’re both mentally ill, so they could help each other through their toughest episodes. Mario is schizophrenic and Daniel has PTSD. The two illnesses are similar to each other, but schizophrenia is a psychotic disorder and PTSD is an anxious disorder. This could actually work! But that’s a story for another day. I’m Garrison Kelly and I’ll see you soon!

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Fifty Shades of Grey is to literature what candy corn is to vegetables.”

-Bill Maher-

Body Positivity

***BODY POSITIVITY***

Judging from how my selfies look these days, this is going to come as a major shock to a lot of people (eye roll). I treat the fat guy with the same respect that I treat the athlete. There are good and bad people on both sides of that spectrum and that’s really the only criteria I use to decide if I like someone or not. You can do bicep curls and military presses until the end of time, but until you treat your fellow human being with love and kindness, you don’t deserve my respect.

I know that sounds ironic considering my love for WWE and how only a small minority of those wrestlers are out of shape. Yes, I enjoy the flippy-floppy techniques of guys like Neville and Seth Rollins, but I also don’t feel the need to bash out of shape wrestlers like Kevin Owens and Bray Wyatt simply because of how they look. Whether it’s with WWE or real life, looks don’t mean shit anymore. There are fat guys who are happily married and muscle studs who are struggling to find a girlfriend. Yes, I know Family Guy is only a cartoon where the characters beat the shit out of each other constantly, but the fact that a chubby guy like Peter Griffin can have a sexy redhead like Lois isn’t lost on me.

Not everybody on this planet has to be a sex object with rippling muscles and firm thighs. Sometimes I get the feeling that the only reason we have fat shaming in our society today is because the ones doing the shaming want someone to jerk off to. They don’t have enough people wax the carrot to, so they expect the whole world to look like sex statues. So that’s it, huh? If I were to go to the gym and exercise my ass off until I was 200 lbs, my biggest reward would be people jerking off to me? Gee, thanks a lot.

Another excuse fat shamers like to use to do what they do is that they’re concerned for their target’s health. So let me get this straight: you’re worried they might die from a heart attack or a stroke, so you insult them until they feel suicidal? Great logic. Great fucking logic. If you’re legitimately concerned about a fat guy’s health, cheer them on, don’t insult them. That drill instructor logic will get you five knuckles of death right in the fucking jaw.

So, the primary excuses people have for making fun of fat people are not enough wanking material and fake health concerns. I thought that would have been the end of it. And then Bill Maher closes an episode of Real Time with one of the most disgusting monologues I’ve heard in a long while. He chastised publications like The Huffington Post for promoting body positivity because obesity is supposed to be a disease, not a fashion trend. It’s one thing for him to make fat jokes about guys like Donald Trump, Chris Christie, and Rush Limbaugh, because those three are bona fide assholes. But to generalize the argument to include everyday people? Unbelievable.

Imagine if the wrong person were to see that kind of message on TV. Maybe it’s a fat guy in high school being bullied by jocks. Maybe it’s a binge-eating fat woman with low self-esteem and suicidal thoughts. No less than a week after doing an ending monologue about Republicans being trolls, Bill Maher became a troll himself to the entire obese population. He was already on my shit list for telling his audience how to dress and bitching about superhero movies and fast-paced novels. Those things I can deal with. But after that night of fat shaming, I have to reconsider my fandom for Mr. Maher. Yes, he and I are both proud liberals with a strong sense of zeal, but is he really fighting for someone like me with his show?

On one hand, I understand the health risks of being overweight. I know this, because there were times when I’d get winded climbing the stairs. I would come home from walks to the convenience store dripping with sweat like a fire hydrant. I have sleep apnea that isn’t always cured with my CPAP. The fact that I even have a CPAP says a lot about the state of my body. Am I the healthiest person on earth? Not really. But that doesn’t mean I have to feel like shit because of it. There are worse things in this world than being fat, such as being evil, stupid, shallow, obnoxious, and hateful among other negative qualities.

In the end, the only one who has the right to an opinion of your body is you yourself. If you like the way you look, good for you. If you don’t, do something about it. But if you are going to do something about it, make sure you have the final say. It’s your body, after all. Making diet and exercise choices shouldn’t be taken lightly and shouldn’t be because of coercion or insults. Surround yourself with people who embody a positive state of mind. They’re the ones who will help you through your body issues, not the jerk-offs and trolls. Somebody out there loves you and hopefully you love yourself too. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

Two days ago, I finally pumped out “Wolf’s Cannonball”, the martial arts retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. The next character from that story to be drawn will be Little Red Sniper. I ordered some red colored pencils from Amazon and I might wait for them to get here before I get started on this drawing. I might have other variations of red in my collection, I just have to look for them.

***BOOK REVIEW***

I only have a little over a hundred pages left to read from Chris Jericho’s third memoir “The Best in the World: At What I Have No Idea”. I would have made some progress on it today, but I was feeling the blahs as far as creativity went. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a more energetic day. I plan on giving this book the same grade I gave to Chris Jericho’s first two memoirs: four stars out of five. He’s witty, he’s to-the-point, he’s entertaining…what more could I ask for out of a pro-wrestler turned author?

***JOKE OF THE DAY***

Q: What did Barack Obama say to the Republican Party in 2012?

A: Damn Mitt!

Conspiracy Theory

CHORUS

I have a conspiracy theory

No rest for the weary

Have no choice but to hear me

I have a conspiracy theory

VERSE 1

Bill Maher wants to commit fat guy genocide

Put millennials in ovens until they are fried

Beat Muslims with a bat, it’s what he wants

Since their symbol is a crescent, he eats croissants

Listen, ‘cause the story that I’m telling is true

If he tried to sue, he would badly lose

Maybe I embellished just a little tiny bit

But as long as you’re willing to eat bullshit…

CHORUS

I have a conspiracy theory

No rest for the weary

Have no choice but to hear me

I have a conspiracy theory

VERSE 2

Donald Trump was born on the planet of Mars

Sitting on his pudgy ass eating chocolate bars

The orange on his skin is moldy Wheat Thins

Doritos, Cheetohs, and rotten Papas Fritos

Listen, ‘cause the story that I’m telling is real

It’ll make him squeal, the stuff I reveal

Maybe it’s built on a little white lie

But as long as you’re willing to pray to the sky…

CHORUS

I have a conspiracy theory

No rest for the weary

Have no choice but to hear me

I have a conspiracy theory

VERSE 3

James Woods once sued a starving African teen

For twenty million dollars and his ruptured spleen

The charges stemmed from a 1912 Twitter post

About the so-called actor having brains of buttered toast

Listen, ‘cause the story will involve Dr. Luke

And how they drowned each other in Roman shower puke

If they win their lawsuits, it’ll only be a fluke

Conspiracy theories don’t have to be rebuked

FINAL LINE

I have a conspiracy theory X4

Laughing Devil

CHORUS

He sits there and laughs all day

He sits there and laughs all day

He reminds you of the devil anyway

‘Cause he sits there and laughs all day

VERSE 1

Tickling in his brain until he goes insane

Until his ribs are in tremendous pain

What the fuck is going on in his mind?

Is this the answer you really want to find?

Torture and violence, the comedy of choice

Death jokes will unleash the chuckling noise

The hyena demon laughs about his semen

He plants the seeds just in time for the season

CHORUS

He sits there and laughs all day

He sits there and laughs all day

He reminds you of the devil anyway

‘Cause he sits there and laughs all day

VERSE 2

Carlin has nothing on the demons from hell

Maher has nothing on the jokes they tell

Noah never went to the darkest places

Never put slasher smiles on their faces

This kind of humor should never be public

But there’s always one who says, “Fuck it!”

He sits there and laughs all fucking day

There’s something funny about unholy decay

BRIDGE

Laugh like Nelson from The Simpsons

Like a coyote hunting down a chicken

Like a serial killer in an erotic thriller

A cartel gangster carving up a prankster

EXTENDED CHORUS

He sits there and laughs all day

He sits there and laughs all day

He reminds you of the devil anyway

‘Cause he sits there and laughs all day

Lock his ass up in the darkest corner

Far beyond this nation’s borders

Far beyond this solar system

Only Dahmer has ever missed him

McDonald's Prostitute

VERSE 1

Which tastes worse: the blowjob or the burger?

Which is more sadistic: slavery or murder?

Which is more dangerous: the fries or the lies?

Which is more confusing: the whats or the whys?

Stretched so thin like lying on a torture table

Scraping up whatever small change you’re able

Put on the pounds and make orgasmic sounds

Nobody will help you in this selfish town

CHORUS

McDonald’s prostitute, what’re you fighting for?

An economy that doesn’t subsidize war?

A market that doesn’t overpower the rich?

They’ll be the first to tell you that life is a bitch!

VERSE 2

What ice cream do you want: vanilla or chocolate?

Where’s your money: in your purse or your pocket?

Where do you call home: the bridge or the streets?

What’s the ending to this story: victory or defeat?

I would never judge you for your desperation

I would never insult you or give you lacerations

It’s not your fault and you’re not in the wrong

Have my twenty dollar bill and the lyrics to this song

CHORUS

McDonald’s prostitute, what’re you fighting for?

An economy that doesn’t subsidize war?

A market that doesn’t overpower the rich?

They’ll be the first to tell you that life is a bitch!

VERSE 3

A triple bacon burger with onions and pickles

A man in black robes with a sick-looking sickle

The loneliness will kill you before the food does

A disgusting fucking joke is what this all was

Everybody wanted it to go wrong from the start

They vote with their balls and not with their hearts

Now they can’t even fill up their shopping carts

Except with their last possessions and metal parts

CHORUS X2

McDonald’s prostitute, what’re you fighting for?

An economy that doesn’t subsidize war?

A market that doesn’t overpower the rich?

They’ll be the first to tell you that life is a bitch!

Brutally Honest Dating Profile

***BRUTALLY HONEST DATING PROFILE***

There used to be a time where I would frown and pout at the idea of not having a girlfriend, especially one of celebrity status. Ridiculous, right? I think so too. At this point in my life, I couldn’t care less about the dating scene. I care even less than that about online dating. I’ve tried it several times with no success and I’m ready to say, “Fuck it, I’m done”. I have so little compassion for online dating that if I ever decide to make a profile for a place like OK Cupid, Plenty of Fish, E-Harmony, or any of those other sites, I’m going to take the Buzz Feed route and be brutally honest about all aspects of my life. For the sake of real life, I’m going to use my birth name instead of my penname. So without further ado, let’s get on with the Brutally Honest Dating Profile. It goes like this:

　

“Who is Garrison Haines-Temons? Most people don’t know, because they only see the surface of who I am: an out of shape and socially awkward man child with the worst case of allergies and the wrong answers to every socially acceptable question. If you’ve made it this far into my profile, I applaud you for not running away like a scream queen from a 1980’s horror movie.

The most common question I get asked by strangers is what I do for a living. If I wanted to be a funny guy, I could tell you that I work with impoverished children in the Democratic Republic of None of Your Damn Business. But that wouldn’t be the honest answer. The honest answer is, I’m an amateur writer who gets social security benefits for not only being schizophrenic and autistic, but also for having retired parents. I don’t go around telling people that because the person I’m talking to could either be a tea-bagging republican who judges poor people or a potential girlfriend who only dates men for their money and cars. If you’re going to judge me, do it on my character and not on my economic status. I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks relationships are built on love and honesty instead of shallowness and greed.

What exactly is my character? The good news is, behind all of this social weirdness, I have a creative side to me. As I’ve said earlier, I’m an unpaid writer, but I also like to draw pictures of brutally violent warriors and take photographs of my toy collection and my animals. If there’s a creative project, I can get it done in style. For a while, I played the piano. I don’t do it much anymore, but the musical bug will come back to bite me soon enough.

What about my interests? Aside from expanding my creative outlets, I also love to watch professional wrestling, read books, and listen to heavy metal music. I used to play a lot of videogames, but ever since getting the shit kicked out of me multiple times by a lava dragon in Final Fantasy III, I’ve become too frustrated to continue that hobby. But I have to admit, videogames can be great creative fuel for when I’m writing a short story or heavy metal song.

You’ve made it this far into my dating profile without cowering away. You deserve a parade with confetti and marching bands. Now we’re going to get serious for a minute. I don’t have many pet peeves, but one of my biggest ones is people lacking respect for my introversion. You know the kind. They make small talk until the end of time, they always want your attention 24/7, they give you no breathing space or privacy of any kind, and they get pissed off if you call them out on their aggressive bullshit. If you’re one of these people who loves to smother your boyfriend with multiple texts, phone calls, and visits, then I don’t need you in my life. Every worst enemy of mine was someone who invaded my privacy and gave me no alone time to process my thoughts. Introversion may sound like an excuse to a lot of people, but it’s real to me and if you don’t honor it, you can’t be my girlfriend.

There you have it: Garrison Haines-Temons, bullshit free, nonconforming, live, and in color. Truth be told, I know not everyone accepts this kind of brutal honesty. In fact, I expect that most girls will see my profile and swipe to the right. That’s okay, though. I’m really joining this dating site out of protest and I really don’t need a relationship based on shallowness. Either you love all of me or you hate all of me. I don’t change for anybody. I don’t need to be told how to dress. I don’t need to be told what career to embark on. I don’t need to be told how to live life. I know what my life is about and I’m happy with my situation even though others aren’t. So what do you say? Will you give me a chance or will you keep pursuing your dreams of getting in the sack with Christian Grey?”

　

Now I’m actually curious as to how many hits this profile will get. I shouldn’t get too hung up on it, though. After all, I’m going into this thing with the ultimate “I don’t give a fuck” attitude. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

　

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

With the additions of Autumn the parrot and Shadow the dog, it’s time to add yet another former animal of mine to the series. Remember Ottie-Doo from the short story of the same name? Like Autumn and Shadow, I don’t have any photographs of the elderly kitty. A drawing will have to do instead. And now that I think about it, Ottie had a lot in common with my current elderly kitty Smokey. Maybe I could use a picture of Smokey for a reference model. Hmm….

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“New rule: couples who make out in public have to bring a bucket for me to throw up in. I didn’t come all the way to Applebee’s to be sickened by your dry humping. I came all the way to Applebee’s to be sickened by the food.”

-Bill Maher-

Nadia Rinehart

NAME: Nadia Rinehart

AGE: 19

OCCUPATION: Street Fighter

CANONS: Hardcore Hell 2 and Chainblazer

As a staunch democrat, most of the characters in my story identify as politically liberal atheists. I’m not alone in projecting my views on my characters, because CJ Box and Carl Hiaasen do the exact same thing for their parties. Naturally, my conservative characters are few and far between. And yet, they do exist. Keegan Day from “Occupy Wrestling” qualifies. Gail Reinhold once held those beliefs and she was a hero. And now let’s add one more name to that small, yet growing list: Nadia Rinehart.

Before I changed her name to something that didn’t sound like a NASCAR redneck’s name, Gail Reinhold’s last name was Rinehart, which meant she was related to Nadia. Gail got her start in Hardcore Hell 1 and then a whole generation passed into Hardcore Hell 2, where we get Gail’s now grownup niece, Nadia.

During her time in Hardcore Hell 2, Nadia proved to be an even nastier version of her aunt when it came to brutal fighting skills and a general mean streak. She was part of a straightedge gang called Throw Down, Motherfuckers, which is a conservative parody of the real life gang Fuck Shit Up aka Friends Stand United.

If you smoked weed, shot heroine, drank vodka, or even thought about using the lord’s name in vain, Nadia and her boyfriend Johnny Filter were there to put you in the ICU. Punches, kicks, elbows, knees, and the occasional judo hip toss were employed by Nadia and her gang. No guns were necessary, because guns are for pussies (even though Nadia is against gun control).

By the time Hardcore Hell 2 went in the shitter after ten chapters, Nadia was recycled into another story entirely: Chainblazer, a cyberpunk neo-noir story where corporations turned ordinary people into mindless, yet ultra-powerful slaves by wrapping fiery chains around their wrists and ankles. Nadia’s role this time wasn’t a conservative gangster, but rather a criminal informant whose transgressions were minor compared to what she did in Hardcore Hell 2.

Then again, living on the streets with no parental supervision of any kind lent itself to a life dependent on the kindness of strangers. Nadia’s help as a CI led the two main characters, Rollin and Tarja, to the release of a corporate slave named Marcus McKnight, a muscle-bound black dude who was the prototype for those fiery chains. Marcus then revealed information to everyone that these chains were being mass produced and the corporation responsible needed to be raided. In the happy ending, Nadia’s reward for all of her help was being set up with a job and low cost housing. Not bad!

Chainblazer was yet another story that went ker-plunk before it even had the chance to be ripped apart by critics. The excessive number of plot holes, the no-selling of attacks, and the froufrou writing style led the story down the path of destruction. And this all means now that Nadia is once again without employment.

During her experiences on my word processor, she’s been both a villain and a hero. If I ever use her again, I’d want her to be the badass gangster bitch she was in Hardcore Hell 2 since that’s what I originally envisioned for her. She was great in Chainblazer, but too weak for my tastes. Besides, as I look at my unemployed character ledger, I have more female heroes than I do female villains. Get in line, Nadia Rinehart. You’ll see the light of day again.

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“All marriages are same-sex marriages. Every night, it’s the same sex.”

-Bill Maher-

Real Time with Bill Maher

TITLE: Real Time with Bill Maher

GENRE: Political Debate and Comedy

RATING: TV-MA for strong language

GRADE: Depends on the episode

As I write this review for my lovely audience, I don’t want any of you to think this is me putting the boots to Bill Maher. I have a lot of respect for him both as a comedian and as a political commentator. In case you haven’t figured it out from my internet postings over the years, I have very strong liberal beliefs. In 2004, I voted for John Kerry and in 2008 and 2012, I voted for Barack Obama. Naturally, I agree with the things Bill Maher says almost 90% of the time. I especially enjoyed what he had to say about the recent police brutality incidents going on all over the country.

As far as his talk show goes, it’s not Bill Maher himself who makes or breaks each episode. It’s his fucking guests. Some episodes, his guests are polite and have great conversational chemistry together, and that goes for both liberal and conservative guests. Despite being on the opposite side of the political fence as him, I actually think Steve Schmidt, John McCain’s campaign advisor, carries himself in a calm, intelligent, and respectful way and having him on the show is always good to see.

And then there are those episodes where the guests are at each other’s throats like it’s an episode of WWE Smackdown. You know the guests I’m talking about: always interrupting each other, always talking loudly, always saying rude shit, and in some cases always taunting the audience. Does anybody remember the episode where Christopher Hitchens flipped off the audience? How about the ones where Dana Rorabacher created a sonic boom with his dialogue alone.

While it is true there are more rude conservative guests than liberal ones, there are liberal guests who are capable of holding Bill Maher’s show hostage. Gary Schandling answered his fucking cell phone in the middle of a political discussion. Roseanne Barr had more dialogue in one show than most guests have in multiple episodes. The biggest example of a show hostage taker is one I know I’m going to regret saying, mostly because he recently committed suicide. I’m talking about Robin Williams, who on one episode interrupted everybody with random jokes and committed the mortal sin of interrupting Bill Maher’s New Rules segment.

Bottom line: it’s not just being liberal or conservative that can make a guest annoying. It’s the way that guest presents himself on television to an audience who really just wants to see Bill Maher pop off jokes. The problem with his show is most of the time he invites crazy guests who destroy the whole night for the audience. At that point, I’m not even sure if New Rules can make me laugh since I’m too angry from all the fighting among the guests.

Mr. Maher, I’m not saying this to be mean to you, I’m saying it to you as a fan and hopefully a friend someday. Have a filter for the people you invite on your show. Dana Rorabacher already ruined one show with his shrill screaming, so don’t bother inviting him back on the set. I could also tell you were getting sick of SE Cupp’s ageist jokes when you had PJ O’Rourke as the final guest. You probably invite these lunatics on your show as a way to boost ratings. Trust me, Bill, this is not the way to get high ratings. If you want a pro-wrestling example of bad TV gone even worse, I’ve got three letters for you: WCW.

The Play By Webbers (Zeal, The Undertaker, Chakko, and Natron)

During my tenure at Playbyweb.com, I have assumed four different identities (not at the same time, though). The first of these was Zeal, a 16-year-old porn addict who raged against the machine and lost. The second was The Undertaker, a slightly less offensive version of Zeal, but still only a temporary fix since my schizophrenia made it harder for me to role-play. When I turned 18, I came back from my sabbatical from the site under the name Chakko. I raged against the machine over stupid age limits and lost once more. And finally, when I created Natron in an attempt to be diplomatic, my peaceful ways were shut down and that was the last time I set foot on Play By Web’s hostile territory.

Four different usernames, four different agendas. It would be a shame to let these guys go to waste. So I had the brilliant idea of making characters out of them. Although, if I wanted to use The Undertaker, I’d have to fight an uphill legal battle with WWE over the name and to that I say hell no. That’s like a pigmy warrior going up against an army of Greek titans. So now we’re down to three characters: Zeal, Chakko, and Natron.

What could I possibly do with these three? I know! Let’s make them teenagers in a dystopian hellhole who want access to porn! Yes, that’s what I was fighting for back in March of 2002: the right to view porn despite my young age. I may have argued that I was only two years below the benchmark of 18 and two years makes zero difference. I may have also argued that there was no real reason for my adult opponents to keep me from doing whatever the hell I want. The way I saw it, only a hardcore religious zealot would ever object to me masturbating to porn.

Therefore, when I construct a group of antagonists for Zeal, Chakko, and Natron to face off against, they will be paladins. They will wear heavy suits of armor and carry flails that can turn skulls into blood bombs with one smack. And just like in Diablo II: Lord of Destruction, these zealous paladins will have auras to give them magical powers. Do the three teenagers feel overwhelmed yet? That’s exactly how I felt when I argued with the entire website over my personal freedom: overwhelmed and traumatized.

In order to combat these heavy-handed head smashers, Zeal, Chakko, and Natron will have to be smooth and slick as they move about the dystopian city in search of good porn. Their official character classes will have to be somewhere between a rogue and a wizard, maybe both. They can sneak up on their opponents and stab them with magically energized daggers. They can steal smaller weapons and imbue them with lightning or fire. My only limit is my imagination. It should be known by now that porn enthusiasts have vast imaginations, hint, hint, wink, wink.

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“You know that scene in As Good As It Gets where Jack Nicholson tells his girlfriend, ‘You make me want to be a better person.’? You know how often that happens? Never.”

-Bill Maher-