Showing posts with label Earth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Earth. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 2, 2020

Destroying the Earth

Whether you’re watching your Saturday morning cartoons or playing your favorite Super Nintendo game, sometimes you just have to ask to nobody in particular: “Why does the villain want to destroy the earth?” Doesn’t matter if the villain is a robot, an alien, a monster, or an ordinary human with extraordinary powers; chances are good he wants to destroy the world for no fucking reason other than to flex his muscle. You hear him cackle like a madman. You hear him barking orders at his minions even though he’s capable of doing a much better job. But that’s about all you hear. No motives, no thorough planning, and if he does have the latter, it’ll be explained in intricate detail to the protagonist rather than using that precious time to murder the motherfucker. All you know about the villain is that he wants to destroy the earth, but you don’t know why.


Do you realize what happens when the earth is destroyed? There’s a very real possibility that the main villain lives on planet earth, so if he destroys the whole fucking thing, where is he going to live? He’d better have a spaceship handy. If he does, what planet is going to take him in whilst being able to support human life? Even if the planet did support human life, why would they willingly want a genocidal maniac as part of their world population? Does the villain want to destroy his new home world too? Is that all this asshole does on his spare time? Just destroy worlds haphazardly without thinking about the consequences of mass genocide? At least Freiza from Dragon Ball Z had a motive. He wiped out the planet’s population and sold the planet to the highest bidder. He was a businessman. A ruthless businessman, but as we’ve seen with corporate America, that’s really a redundant phrase at this point.


I suppose any villain could use the CEO excuse to destroy random planets, but people who have seen Dragon Ball Z would know where the motive came from and accusations of plagiarism would be louder than a Super Saiyan screaming before he throws a Kamehameha wave…out of his ass…after eating a hundred dollars worth of Taco Bell food. Yes, I know, there’s no such thing as an original idea. Everything comes from somewhere. But surely there are more motives for committing genocide on a planet’s population than just dollars and cents, right? Yes, dollars and cents are very enticing to villains with a shallow point of view, or even a desperate debtor. But it’s hardly the only reason why someone would want to destroy a whole planet.


Destroying the earth seems to have lost its luster over time due to the backwards logistics of it all. But it doesn’t have to be. Part of the fun of being a professional author is spinning tropes on their heads. Maybe the threat of global destruction is part of an ultimatum. “Give me a gazillion dollars or I’m going to blow up a major world city every hour on the hour.” We’ve seen that in movies before, but why would a genocidal lunatic need a gazillion dollars? Climbing out of poverty? Buying a vacation home in somewhere other than a targeted city? Clinging to an expensive cocaine and hooker addiction? These are all solid reasons for world destruction. They’re shitty things to do, but as far as character arcs go, they’ll go a long way in giving villains all three of their much-needed dimensions. The audience will laugh at villains for being cheesy and one-dimensional. Why not make them blackmailers of the most disgusting kind?


But why is it just blackmail? Can a villain want to destroy the earth just for the satisfaction of watching the world burn? Dead bodies can be very satisfying to a villain with a constant Joker’s grin. But after one dead body, he’d have to keep achieving that high in order to maintain satisfaction. When the bodies run out, then what is he going to do? But maybe he will find satisfaction in worldwide genocide, because he sees his abusers in every person he meets. Or maybe he was raised with a Nazi ideology and sees himself as the purest human. Maybe the parents who gave him his Nazi ideology were abusive themselves. In the bloody war between nature and nurture, nurture wins hands down.


Can a villain be born evil, though? Certain genes could allow that to happen, like a predisposition for psychopathy, sociopathy, and narcissism. Maybe the villain is beyond help and can’t help himself when he kills large numbers of people. Maybe he legitimately doesn’t see the consequences of his actions and kills just because. But when he’s criticized or punished for his heinous crimes, he suddenly plays the sympathy card like a little coward. We’ve seen that in movies and TV shows before, because it continues to work. Hell, we see this shit in today’s world news with certain politicians, pundits, and bullies in general. I’m sure they’d love to watch the world burn just because.


What if a magical voice tells the villain to commit worldwide genocide and will only give him relief from his mind-fuck when he completes his task. Where is this voice coming from? The depths of hell? A sorcerer long believed to be dead? A bug implanted in his ear? A caterpillar that crawls up his nose and infests his brain? A psychoactive drug with micro-insects swimming through it? But if you as a writer choose to go down this route, you’ll want to remove it as far as you can from actual real world schizophrenia. Schizophrenics have enough stigmas attached to them as it is. The magical voice has to be purely from a magical or science-fiction standpoint. You can even take a page out of the Cyberpunk 2020 playbook and have the cyborg lose his humanity after overusing his mechanical limbs.


There are thousands of reasons why a villain would want to destroy the earth. Pick one and stick with it. You could have a laughing skeleton in a dark cloak carrying a fiery battleaxe, but unless you give him some reasons for doing the things he does, he’s going to come off as cheesy and clownish. Imagine if Darth Vader, one of the most iconic Star Wars villains of all time, destroyed worlds willy-nilly and had no real reason for it. He lusted for power, above all else. It’s a simple motive, but power is enticing to psychopaths who need to be in control of their environment at all times. Is the lust for power over-used? Could be. But if everything else about the villain clicks, whether it’s the dialogue, the presentation, or the power he already has, then the audience will forgive you if you use the power-hunger trope one more time.


I’m currently in the process of rewriting a fantasy novel called Beautiful Monster for the third time in a row. For the first couple of drafts, Queen Shelly Atwood had no real reason for being a sex-crazed rapist who wanted to get as much power as she could. But in this current draft, she likes having the power and influence of a queen because it turns her on. The money she makes selling brainwashed sex slaves affords her pleasures, comforts, and conveniences she wouldn’t have had as a poor peasant. Power is addictive and so is the one-percent lifestyle. She’s gotten so used to being powerful that she must have things her way all the time. She doesn’t want to lose even a smidgen of that power to anybody. Whether she gains it from raping a future sex slave or making shady business deals, she’ll take it where she can get it. With this much power and money comes possessions that she wouldn’t otherwise have. Scary artwork, pornographic novels, ice cream ingredients, fine wine, powerful drugs, she’s like a spoiled brat on Christmas, but every day is Christmas and every night is Halloween for the ones she steps on.


Any goofy character can be made into a convincing badass as long as there are layers and dimensions to their personality. Any atrocious act of genocide can be justified in the mind of the villain as long as that justification is made loud and clear. Evil for the sake of evil comes across as hokey no matter what the story is. Evil has a purpose. Evil has a background story. Evil has personality. The villains themselves might even insist that they’re the good guys of their own story. They’re destroying the earth to put the miserable population out of their respective misery. They’re committing genocide because the population is somehow responsible for shunning him from all forms of society. The villain is killing at random because he has a heightened sense of alertness that won’t allow him to be taken by surprise even by the most mundane human being or animal.


The table is set, fellow authors. Flesh out your villains, flesh out your stories, flesh out your worlds, and make sure your audience notices all the hard work you put into your craft. Even the most random occurrences happen for a reason despite the reason not being readily available to the victims. They should be available to your readers, though. They’re not stupid. They see right through laziness. You don’t want to be the author who gives them a whole lot of nothing, right? Show us why the villain is evil, don’t just say he wants to destroy the earth. Any clown in a spaceship can destroy the earth. But a true villain can haunt the minds of his audience while he’s doing it.

Friday, April 13, 2018

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

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Backwoods Barbarian

***BACKWOODS BARBARIAN***

With American Darkness 3 suspended and Poison Tongue Tales 3 not even a possibility, I need something to work on to keep me busy and to keep my creative juices flowing. I originally wanted to do a modern day drama about fat-shaming called “Hulk Logan”, but I couldn’t pre-write it past the fifth chapter. I was hesitant to do the story I’m going to talk about in this blog entry, but then I realized something along the way. Though it could be categorized as fantasy, it’s actually a deconstruction of the violent messes Poison Tongue Tales, Demon Axe, and Occupy Wrestling have been. Yes, this new story will have plenty of fight scenes, but they’re not a means to an end.

I’m talking of course about Backwoods Barbarian, an environmental fantasy I’ve developed all the way to chapter twenty. Yeah, I know, everything has to be about barbarians. All barbarians 24/7. It’s all I ever think about, yada, yada, yada. What good is a barbarian’s rage if he keeps losing his fights and getting himself into trouble? This barbarian can’t win with brute force alone, because there are other fighters out there who are more powerful than him, particularly a dwarf monk named Sabin Rex and a werewolf assassin named Gray Miller (both characters I’ve used in past stories).

Who is this barbarian? Well, he’s not Deus Shadowheart. He’s not Brutus Warcry, either. In fact, if I reveal his name, it might be a tad upsetting to the originator of this character given how the barbarian was once used as a killing machine D&D character. His name is Agrusk Xis and he’s an orc who makes his solitary home in the woods.

He was once owned by an online friend named Timothy. He was also a former character in an attempted dark fantasy novel of mine in 2014 called Fireball Nightmare. I asked Tim if it was okay to use Agrusk in that manner and he said yes. Given Agrusk’s new role as a bumbling brute, Tim could possibly want to think twice about letting me use his character. If he wants me to withdraw Agrusk from Backwoods Barbarian, I’ll gladly do so and swap him out with another character.

If Tim should happen to say yes once again, then Agrusk will be a part of something greater than himself whether he uses brute force or not. As I’ve already established, Agrusk is an orc barbarian who lives in the woods hunting meat and picking fruit. His forest home is about to be chopped down for urban development thanks to the political strategy of Flora City Mayor Annette Cote. Agrusk just wants peace and quiet in his forest home, so he tries to muscle his way into keeping his solitary residence. Needless to say, he’s overpowered and outmanned.

Agrusk meets two environmental protesters along the way: an Amazonian Viking “singer” named Johnna Larson and a bagpipe-playing bard named Julie Piper. Throughout the novel, they teach him that using debate tactics and peaceful protest is more powerful at affecting change than anything he could do with an axe. The whole novel is one big internal battle between Agrusk and his conscience. Can he keep his temper under control or this hothead screw everything up with one moment of impatient rage?

I’ve tooled with the idea of an environmental fantasy before where the plot centered around the government cutting down somebody’s forest home for urban development. I wrote a 2010 D&D-style movie script called Tree Party Nation, where the forest was an eco-terrorist group’s base of operations. As I’ve mentioned earlier, in 2014 I wrote Fireball Nightmare, where the often-recycled Gary-Stu barbarian Deus Shadowheart protected the forest under the command of a living volcano. It’s 2018 and the third time will be the charm. Backwoods Barbarian will be the one that gets this concept right. Watching a “Terrible Writing Advice” You Tube video on environmentalism helped me figure things out.

So that’s it for now. Backwoods Barbarian is officially my next long-term project. It’ll be a departure from what I usually do (barbarism aside), especially considering that I’m shooting for 2,000 words per chapter instead of 1.500 like I normally do. At twenty chapters, that’s an even 40,000 words, which is the generally accepted minimum for a full-length novel. Wish me luck, guys. We’ve got ears, say cheers!


***TELEVISION DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

JERRY: Hey George, ask that guy what street we’re on.

GEORGE: Excuse me, where are we?

STRANGER: Earth.

JERRY: Hey, we’re on the phone with the police!


-Seinfeld-

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Fine

VERSE 1
Watching Metallica shredding up a storm
Having eargasms in this heavy metal porn
Flamethrowers lighting up the fucking sky
So intense in the pit, you could fucking die
A night of badass music is in the books
This thrashed up body is exactly how it looks
You could do it again until the end of days
But when asked about it, you’ll only just say…

DEADPAN CHORUS
It was fine

VERSE 2
Losing your virginity to a Hollywood babe
Porno actresses want to be your love slaves
Cumming your whole body inside out
Orgasms so intense, you can only shout
Sex forever in the sunny beach weather
Who’ll it be today, a chick named Heather?
You could do it again until the end of time
But your only response gives another rhyme:

DEADPAN CHORUS
It was fine

VERSE 3
Driving around on the lunar surface
Floating in the air never felt so perfect
Planet earth is so many miles away
Yet all you can do is fucking say…

DEADPAN CHORUS
It was fine

BRIDGE
I don’t know if it’s laziness
Or a case of mental haziness
Fine is your answer for everything
If it feels good or fucking stings

ENERGETIC CHORUS

It was fine! X4

Friday, August 4, 2017

Blue Sky Blues

VERSE 1
You think the skies are your personal toilet?
You think you can heat the ocean and boil it?
You think your actions have no consequences?
You think we can solve this problem with fences?
Breathing the cleanest air is a god-given right
It never should have come to a verbal fight
It never should have resulted in casualties
That you bury in the ground so casually

CHORUS
More smoke in the air than a hookah bar
More poison in the water with oily tar
More politicians who don’t give a shit
These are blue sky blues, not a comedy bit

VERSE 2
Gas masks are not a fashion trend setter
Bigger trucks will not make things better
Lead doesn’t belong anywhere near water
You’ve led us all to the fucking slaughter
You answer to the world, owe them everything
You talk a lot, but haven’t said anything
As long as your bank account continues to grow
You’ll never be wrong, what the fuck do we know?

EXTENDED CHORUS 1
More smoke in the air than a hookah bar
More poison in the water with oily tar
More politicians who don’t give a shit
These are blue sky blues, not a comedy bit
Coal country blues, not a sitcom scene
Steel country blues, so fucking obscene
Pipeline blues, covering rivers in black
Blue sky blues, earth is under attack

BRIDGE
Climate change is as real as it gets
The safest bet, get paid until death
It’s not too late to clean this mess
This will be your ultimate test

EXTENDED CHORUS 2
More smoke in the air than a hookah bar
More poison in the water with oily tar
More politicians who don’t give a shit
These are blue sky blues, not a comedy bit
Drill baby drill, more people to kill
This ain’t no hoax, this is real, folks
The planet will drag you to hell with it

Find a cure for this pollution sickness

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

The Geomancer

Getting away from the madness of city life was exactly what Ally Bennett needed when she went on this hiking trip. Not a single soul dared to venture up these mountains and that was just the way Miss Bennett liked it. She was dressed for the boiling hot weather with her hiking boots, tan shorts, and tight camouflage T-shirt. Sweat poured off her brow, arms, and legs like a fire hydrant, but she didn’t give two shits and a flying fuck in a rolling donut. Her long brunette hair felt sticky, but that was yet another small price for the sake of introverted physical fitness. She lived for the beauty of Mother Nature no matter what the weather was like.

Just when she thought she was alone at the top of the mountain, she saw something that made her drop her hiking staff to the rocky ground. “What the hell?” she silently said to herself as she noticed a man dressed in green and blue wizard robes chanting in tongues while holding out his hands in a Jesus Christ pose. Ally’s first thought was to run back down the mountain screaming like hell. But this mysterious being was just like a car crash: she couldn’t look away no matter how much she wanted to.

The mystical chant ended when the blue haired being turned his head and gave Ally a look of venomous scorn. “You have no business up here, woman. Turn around and leave if you value your life!”

“First of all, dumb shit,” said Ally with her hands on her hips. “This is a national fucking park. Everybody’s welcome here no matter how weird they look in those god awful clothes of yours. Second of all, my name is not woman. It’s Ally. Ally Bennett.”

“Bryan Valencia,” said the wizard. “Nice to meet you, Miss Bennett. Now that the sappy introductions are over, I suggest you get going before shit starts going down!”

“Okay, Mr. Wizard Guy, that sounded a little bit like a threat, so I’m just going to pull out my cell phone and dial 9-1-1…what the hell are you doing?!” Ally never got the chance to press the buttons on her smart phone as she was stunned by Bryan’s geomantic powers. With wide-eyed horror, she watched him raise his palm in the air and levitate a large rock off the ground. The floating rock was hurled into Ally’s cell phone, shattering the gizmo into tiny fragments while giving Ally a red mark on her hand and a reason to scream “Ow! Jesus!”

As the hiker shook out the pain in her palm, Bryan smiled at her and said, “Do I have your attention now? Would you like another demonstration of how badly I can crush you? That rock trick was just child’s play compared to the damage I’m capable of.”

Clutching her hand to sooth the pain, Ally asked, “Who the hell are you, anyways? I know you said your name was Bryan and all that, but what the fuck, man? You’re lifting rocks off the ground, you’re dressed like you’re going to a nerd convention, you’ve got blue fucking hair, I don’t know what to believe anymore!”

“All of those things you so ignorantly described are the traits of a geomancer,” said Bryan.

“Geo what?”

“Geomancer. I control the elements of the earth. If I want an earthquake, I’ll give you one. If I want a mudslide, you’ve got it. But then I figured, why stop there? Earthquakes and mudslides are tinker toys. To really get in touch with Mother Nature, I have to be right here at the top of this mountain. A mountain, which by the way, was at one point an active volcano. You ever wonder why nobody comes up here? Well, let’s just say they’re not fast enough to run away from the lava, like the idiot brain surgeon politician once said. I swear to god, the ignorance of your people is mind-boggling,” ranted Bryan.

“So this is it, huh?” said Ally in a stern voice. “You’re going to blow up this damn volcano just to show everyone who’s boss. You’re such a noble guy.”

With his fists at his side, Bryan roared, “What do you know about nobility?!” The sudden crescendo caused Ally to bounce backward in fear. “Why do you think people go on hiking trips to begin with? To get away from it all. Well, I’m not getting away from anything. I’m confronting the sins of this world dead on. Don’t you ever get sick of the world sometimes? All the violence, all the rape, all the bigotry, all the zeal. The poor are disenfranchised while those in charge get a slap on the wrist. Women are treated as sex objects while men laugh at their misery. Dropping bombs has become the new diplomacy. Well, if it’s bombs you want, I’ll drop the biggest one mankind has ever seen! My decades of geomantic studies have come down to this! And there’s nothing you can do about it!”

“Actually, there is something I can do about it,” said Ally with her arms folded and a death stare on her face.

“And what would that be?” asked Bryan mockingly. “I already shattered your cell phone, so the cops aren’t even close to coming. As far as I know, you don’t have geomantic powers of your own, so striking you down with a thousand stones would be the easiest part of my day. So what other options do you have? What could you possibly do that will stop me from exacting revenge on this world?”

“Call you out on your bullshit, that’s what,” said Ally. Bryan’s facial features and fierce stance softened at the hiker’s stubbornness. “Being against all of those violent things that you’ve listed is noble in its own right. You’d be crazy not to be. It’s like being in favor of kittens and rainbows. Up with puppies! But what good is being against the sins of the world if you’re committing one right now? You’re not a hero to anybody. You’re a hypocrite! Your volcanic blast will take out all of those rich assholes and male chauvinists you hate so much, but it’ll also take out those sexualized women and innocent children that you claim to have a soft spot for. By blowing this volcano, you’ll be no different from the politicians who drop bombs on helpless civilians overseas. Is that the mark you want to leave on this world? Do you want to be a hypocrite?!”

Bryan tucked his head in shame as if those words stung him like a scorpion’s tail. He spent lengthy seconds in what appeared to be silent and deep contemplation. He lifted his head once more, but this time with the same hardened expression as when he started his spell. “You’re so full of shit! How dare you question my tactics! You really think the innocents want to live in a world run by these rich lunatics? Consider this a mercy killing, my friend!”

Something inside Ally Bennett snapped. She grabbed her walking cane and held it like a samurai warrior ready to strike. Her muscles twitched. Her eyes were wild with fiery anger. Her teeth were clenched hard enough to chew through steel. Every word she spoke was full of vitriol and hatred. “If you’re not going to listen to reason, then I’m going to make you! You’re not going to do shit to this world! If I’m going down, I’m going down fighting! This world is worth saving and you’re not going to do shit about it!”

Bryan raised his hands and levitated an entire wall of rocks off the ground, but Ally remained strong and defiant in the face of this new challenge. The geomancer threatened, “You just made the biggest mistake of your life, you crazy bitch! Prepare to die!”

The wizard rained down a storm of rocks upon Ally, hoping to crush her bones into the same fineness as the dirt below. Even with sharp stones piercing her skin, the undeterred hiker swung her cane like a baseball bat and knocked a few of them into Bryan’s throat. While Ally was buried and bloodied underneath a pile of rocks, Bryan Valencia clutched his windpipe while gasping for air. He danced around in pain trying to get his oxygen back, but made a critical mistake when he fell off the ledge of the mountain and rolled down the hill.

The geomancer bumped into many large stones, trees, and sharp grass blades during his barrel roll down the side of the mountain. His spine crunched in two, his arms and legs were shattered beyond repair, and his head exploded with his brains scattered across the landscape. By the time he reached the bottom, he was already a necromantic supper for a family of bears, who feasted on his carcass like the wild animals they were. Nothing was left of Bryan Valencia except for bones and tiny chunks of meat and shit.

Back at the top of the mountain, Ally Bennett stayed buried beneath the rocks like it was going to be her grave. She hadn’t moved for the longest time and her bloody limbs squeezed fresh juice to trickle down the mountain. After what seemed like ages, her fingers twitched and her dirt-covered eyes barely opened.


At that moment she knew she couldn’t run away from the world’s problems like she intended to do in this hike. She was a hero that day for what she did to Bryan Valencia. Her work was far from over. If she was going to join the resistance against oppressive values, she couldn’t do it through volcanoes, earthquakes, or any other form of terrorism. It’s like a famous first lady once said: “When they go low, you go high.” It didn’t get any higher than the top of a volcanic mountain. It didn’t get any lower than being a human buffet table for a family of brown bears.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Take It Back

***TAKE IT BACK***

There seem to be a lot of stories in the news lately about environmental disasters, the most prominent one being about the North Dakota pipeline that the Standing Rock Indian Nation is protesting. Not only would the pipeline poison their water supply, but it would desecrate sacred burial sites. During these protests, the oil company’s private security beat the protesters and unleashed attack dogs on them. And still the Indian Nation remains stronger than ever. Instead of inserting my own political dialogue into this matter, I’m going to have Pink Floyd do it for me with their 1994 hit “Take It Back”. And no, it’s not about an overly emotional chick. It’s about Mother Nature, an even more emotional chick with the power of geomancy. Look the song up on You Tube. Or you can read these lyrics, one of the two.


VERSE 1
Her love rains down on me as easy as the breeze
I listen to her breathing it, sounds like the waves on the sea
I was thinking all about her, burning with rage and desire
We were spinning into darkness, the earth was on fire

CHORUS
She could take it back, she might take it back some day

VERSE 2
So I spy on her, I lie to her, I make promises I cannot keep
Then I hear her laughter rising, rising from the deep
And I make her prove her love for me, I take all that I can take
And I push her to the limit to see if she will break

CHORUS
She might take it back, she could take it back some day

VERSE 3
Now I have seen the warnings, screaming from all sides
It's easy to ignore them and God knows I've tried
All of this temptation, it turned my faith to lies
Until I couldn't see the danger or hear the rising tide

CHORUS X3
She can take it back, she will take it back some day


***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

Once again, the WSS admins use a prompt suggestion of mine (Eagle Eye) and I am eternally grateful. But before I can do my official happy dance, I have to write “Emoticon Artist”, which goes like this:


CHARACTERS:

Colin McCain, Authoritative Dungeon Master
Cody Knox, D&D Warrior
Brenda Christopher, D&D Rogue
Beth Bradshaw, D&D Cleric and Texter

PROMPT CONFORMITY: The D&D characters are searching for a magical gem known as The Eagle Eye of Aragon.

SYNOPSIS: An exciting game of Dungeons & Dragons is taking place in Colin’s kitchen and involves the three players trying to defeat a metallic dragon at a robotic junkyard. Just when the climax of the battle is drawing near, Beth’s phone goes off and she gets in a text-messaging war with one of her relatives. As the Dungeon Master, Colin strictly forbids text messaging and/or crying at his table, but Beth isn’t so easy to comply. This angers Colin to where he dives across the table in an attempt to pry the phone away from Beth while Cody and Brenda are restraining him.


***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

If Cain Gutwrench wasn’t scary enough for you, hopefully G-Pac will be. No, G-Pac doesn’t have much fighting experience beyond barroom brawls, but he’s a Dark Fantasy Warrior anyways due to his uniqueness. It’s not every day you see a hooded monk in a clown mask drumming away to a heavy metal tune. You kind of see that with Slipknot’s Shawn Crahan, but I don’t think Mr. Crahan would appreciate me using his likeness in Demon Axe. Thus, we have G-Pac. Before you ask, yes, G-Pac was named after me, Garrison Kelly, even though I don’t play the drums.


***DEMON AXE***

Now that we’re on the topic of Demon Axe, the torment is far from over for Daniel Mercer a.k.a. the Lord of the Pit. It’s bad enough Detective Shawn Henry asks him a bunch of stupid questions for the sake of fulfilling his “bureaucratic nightmare”. Now he gets a visit in the night from Raven Triscloud, an elf warrior who tries to warn Daniel that Roger Zee is far from finished with him. Of course, being the drugged out dunderhead that he is, Daniel thinks that Raven is full of crap and is just another traumatic hallucination. Is she?


***FACE BOOK STATUS OF THE DAY***

“If you ever get bitten by the world travel bug, it won’t be because you used to play Final Fight 2 for the Super Nintendo. It doesn’t matter what country Haggar, Carlos, and Maki do all of their street fighting in, because the stages look just as ghettoized and impoverished as the first level of the original Final Fight. For Christ’s sake, Holland looks like it had a nuclear bomb dropped on it. If the Mad Gear gang has the funds to travel overseas, you’d think they could get some nicer digs. Then again, getting a spinning piledriver from the top of Big Ben isn’t appealing no matter what your gang’s budget is.”


-Me-

Thursday, January 7, 2016

Ancient Spirits of Evil

CHORUS
Ancient spirits of evil!
Souls of skeletal people!
This earth will not heal!
It’s all of theirs to steal!


VERSE 1
Death and decay is what they bring
To every hunk of land and living thing
In eternal pain and suffering we scream
Nightmare fuel for an innocent dream
Man, woman, child, it means nothing
To ancient spirits not known for loving
Lightning and shadows is their currency
The world is theirs for all damn eternity


CHORUS
Ancient spirits of evil!
Souls of skeletal people!
This earth will not heal!
It’s all of theirs to steal!


VERSE 2
They harvest the souls of those in power
Rain down on the poor with a fiery shower
Playing politics like it’s a game of D&D
Ripping the land from under you and me
This shit has continued for many centuries
Yet we look at each other like brutal enemies
What the fuck is happening to our dying world?
When will the ancient ones’ flags unfurl?


CHORUS
Ancient spirits of evil!
Souls of skeletal people!
This earth will not heal!
It’s all of theirs to steal!


VERSE 3
The ghosts of this earth will never rest
We constantly put this planet to the test
Smog, war, hunger, it’s all the same
This is what it takes to make us tame
Digging in the dumpster for a peach pit
Climbing to the top, you’ll never reach it
History teaches us that we never learn
Ancient spirits of evil watch us all burn


HOOK
This isn’t something you can teach at college
Nobody else gives a damn about knowledge
Wisdom has always been in short supply
We’re left to the vultures to feast and fly

Sunday, December 20, 2015

"Warm Bodies" by Isaac Marion

BOOK TITLE: Warm Bodies
AUTHOR: Isaac Marion
YEAR: 2011
GENRE: Fiction
SUBGENRE: Zombie Romance
GRADE: Pass


Being a zombie is an endless cycle: eat flesh, fall down, wander around mindlessly, repeat. In the midst of the apocalypse, zombies are regarded as the enemy while the living are automatically revered as heroes. Little do these living humans know that zombies have their own thought processes and emotions as evidenced by those of R, the narrator of this story. As a zombie, R has no idea what the hell he’s doing half of the time nor does he have any recollection of his former life. His life regains purpose when he rescues a beautiful salvager named Julie and the two of them form an awkward, yet important relationship with one another. The more time R spends around Julie, the more human he becomes in his thoughts and emotions.

The first thing I’d like to applaud Mr. Marion on is the sheer creativity it took to write such a novel. The words zombie and romance don’t normally go together so easily, yet the author made them fit perfectly. R is a sympathetic character despite being a dingy zombie and Julie is the perfect friend for him since she doesn’t concentrate on any of his obvious flaws. Even though R only speaks a few syllables at a time, he makes more sense than most of the military officials who want to shoot zombies left and right without second thought. You know the apocalypse is on its way when a budding relationship between a zombie and a human seems more natural than going with their own kind. Breaking down barriers is the first step in healing this screwed up world. Love of all kinds will save us in the end, both in this novel and in the real world.

The second thing Isaac Marion deserves praise for is his system of rules regarding zombie behavior. They have no memory of their past lives, they walk around with a gimp, the only food they care about is human flesh (even though its tasteless and bland), they only speak a few syllables at a time, and their thoughts (though they do exist) are as limited as their speech. The author sticks to these rules all throughout the book and any surprises we do get come naturally instead of being forced. As an author, it’s good to have a set of rules your creatures can live by. Otherwise, the reader will assume the creatures can do whatever the hell they want without limits and can basically end the story anytime. If it wasn’t for the strict set of rules, we’d have flying zombies who could shoot lasers and fart lightning for all we know.

The final thing I have to touch on is the way this story is written. Because of the poetic and descriptive nature of R’s thought processes, the pacing is slightly taken down a few notches. But thanks to the present tense storytelling, it doesn’t have to be that way all throughout the book. When you’re reading “Warm Bodies”, you’re thrust into the moment and you can never leave until the author says you can. That is what I call true storytelling: showing the readers why R is a likeable person instead of shoving it down their throats. Trust me, you’re going to have enough problems with your throats after reading the painful descriptions of how necks and chests are eaten with such brutal violence. Yes, this book is romantic on so many levels, but let’s not get complacent when it comes to the fact that zombies are zombies and they crave human flesh and organs.

It should come as no surprise that this novel was made into a movie. The descriptions are picturesque and the youth of it all makes R and Julie into perfect movie stars. I don’t visit Rotten Tomatoes that often, so I wouldn’t know how well the movie has done in theaters. The book, on the other hand, no question about it: Isaac Marion is an A+ student of the literary game and he gets a passing grade for it.

Saturday, December 12, 2015

Vote With a Flamethrower

VERSE 1
If you can’t stand the way this place is
Burn it down, douse the flames with piss
Mark the graves with a pile of ashes
Mark the living with fiery slashes


CHORUS
Vote with a flamethrower!
Vote! Vote!
Vote with fire!
Vote with a flamethrower!
Vote! Vote!
Pyrocratic justice!


VERSE 2
The glass ceiling is coming down on us
While the fortunate ones lick their lips with lust
Cash is worthless if it’s burning to pulp
Let’s torch this shit and get out of this cult


CHORUS
Vote with a flamethrower!
Vote! Vote!
Vote with fire!
Vote with a flamethrower!
Vote! Vote!
Pyrocratic justice!


VERSE 3
The apocalypse was a long time coming
There is no sense in turning and running
The rebel souls have fire in their hearts
They’d love nothing more than tearing shit apart
The rage was building up for hundreds of years
We tried to extinguish the fires with our tears
But in the very end, all ashes look the same
When they’re caught up in a whirlwind of flames


HOOK
Fear, hatred, zeal, and sorrow
There truly is no tomorrow
All they had to do was knock off the bullshit
Now all that’s left is a smoldering lava pit
Could things have really been different for us?
Depends on the voices we could actually trust
Insulting debates are no longer a must
The world we know is burning into dust!


EXTENDED CHORUS
Vote with a flamethrower!
Vote! Vote!
Vote with fire!
Vote with a flamethrower!
Vote! Vote!
Pyrocratic justice!
Vote with a flame thrower!
Vote! Vote!
Breathe in the smoke!
Vote with your heart’s desire!
Vote! Vote!
Watch the world catch on fire!

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

"The George Carlin Letters" by Sally Wade



After watching George Carlin perform on one of his crazy HBO specials, would you have guessed that he was a loving family man who constantly wrote love notes to his second wife Sally Wade? Take your time in digesting this information. Cycle through all of the times he said that he enjoys car crashes and hurricanes before picking up a copy of “The George Carlin Letters” by Sally Wade. The book is described as a romantic comedy and justifiably so. Throughout the love notes that George wrote to his wife is one with a drawing of a bald woman that said, “If you shaved your head I would still love you (note the hard nipples)”. That’s one of my favorites and that’s just getting to the back cover. Other love notes include references that Sally and George are from Jupiter since their romance transcends earth’s boundaries and rules. Notice how he didn’t say Saturn, because people from Saturn are assholes. Then again, I’d be an asshole too if I had a bunch of space junk circling my planet. Martians and Venusians are alright, though. In fact, there’s a slim chance that Sally and George’s longtime doggy-wog Spot might be a Venusian. There are tons of references to Spot throughout the book. And why not? He’s such a little cutie pie! Plus, that’s all life ever was to George: a series of dogs. Does any of this sound giggly and romantic to you? It should. It’s a heartwarming love story that makes you glad that it’s nonfiction. Sally even describes being married to George as the best ten years of her life. But all good things must come to an end eventually. In 2008, two days before George and Sally’s tenth anniversary, George passed away and left the world a darker place than it already was. Sally could have made this near-end of the book into a somber funeral if she wanted to. But instead, she maintained the giggly spirit of the book and made references to George making contact with her from the other side alongside Spot, who also died during the marriage. Sally says that George still visits her whenever she takes a shower. Not just because she needs reassurance, but also because she happens to be naked. That’s our George! We’re all going to miss him dearly. Even though he said otherwise during his 2008 HBO special It’s Bad For Ya, he probably is smiling down from heaven. He’s probably not running the heavenly branch of the Make-a-Wish Foundation, so don’t count on any favors. If you want true romance, don’t buy a cheesy Harlequin book. Buy “The George Carlin Letters” by Sally Wade!

 

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“I’ve got an idea for an abortion pill that works only half the time. It’s called Baby Maybe!”

-George Carlin-