Maynard from Pulp Fiction vs. Todd Akin (Rest in Piss, Teabagger!)

 

Jim Cornette

 

Rest in Power, Gay Reynolds

 His driver’s license said Gabriel, he went by Gay

He’d do anything and anyone to get his fat payday

He had the 70’s moustache and a tray full of ash

Viagra and cocaine tucked inside his private stash

Eight hours of on-camera sex was what he had

A waterfall climax until his pecker looked so sad

For god knows how much money, the gig wasn’t bad

No longer will he miss a payment on his bachelor pad

Couldn’t find this kind of cheddar jockeying a cash box

Couldn’t find all these greenbacks curing smallpox

Would end up on the streets if he went to school to teach

Couldn’t cut it as a field hand picking every last peach

But the biggest price he paid when he got himself laid

Was some protests on his lawn and some online shade

More DM’s in his inbox than he could possibly delete

Asking for a free fuck, on their marriages they cheat

Every judgmental eye stares some daggers in his soul

They know about every hole, terrorism is their goal

A Molotov bomb thrown through his front window

Before they even get a chance to try to fucking know

What his struggles really are, explosives in his car

Blowing every little piece of him fifty feet apart

Why all of the hate for a guy trying to get by?

Couldn’t win against capitalism even if he tried

No love from the police, not a desist or a cease

Not even a bodyguard with a wild pay increase

The world learned to hate, so they sealed his fate

Could’ve been a porno legend, could’ve been great

Everybody mocks what they don’t understand

Rest in Power, Gay Reynolds, in the Promised Land

Never did he know that he left behind a daughter

Mother was a fellow actress also led to slaughter

A kid in foster care never stood a chance there

I wouldn’t blame her if she was constantly scared

Calling out for her parents but the bullies answer

Wishing her to have a malignant form of cancer

Who is anybody to point and laugh and judge?

Roles were reversed? Life would be just as tough

"In the Presence of Knowing" by Valarie Savage Kinney

BOOK TITLE: In the Presence of Knowing

AUTHOR: Valarie Savage Kinney

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Urban Fantasy

GRADE: Extra Credit

When her alcoholic ex-boyfriend Vince beats her while she’s pregnant, Keisha runs away from home and into the safety of her best friend Layla. Layla helps her get a job at the Windy Springs renaissance faire, a seasonal home for trolls, faeries, gnomes, witches, and other magical creatures that oftentimes blur the lines between fantasy and reality. During one of her treks into the forest, Keisha meets a troll named Gibble (real name Rogan O’Connor) and the two of them form a protective and healthy friendship with each other, something Keisha needed in her life ever since splitting from Vince. Speak of the devil, he’s still out there somewhere and could show up any minute to finish the beating he started at the beginning of the story.

One of the main reasons why I decided to give this book a full five stars was because of how much I loved the relationship between Keisha and Rogan. Their friendship development moves along too fast for some people’s comfort, but none of it feels forced or hokey. These two are perfect for each other. They use their demons to become better people instead of bitter and angry like Vince. Whenever they do get into an argument or two, it makes them stronger and better able to face adversity. They share secrets with each other not out of obligation, but because it’s what they genuinely want. If two people are this good for each other, who cares how fast everything moves? If anything, the readers will want them to get together sooner. While Keisha doesn’t have the martial arts know-how that Rogan does, I still consider these two to be equals in other areas of their relationship. Those are the best kinds of couples, the ones whose love you can believe in.

While Keisha can fend off her demons long enough to be in a healthy relationship with Rogan, she still has those demons in the first place and it shows in her thought processes. Her self-punishment is incredibly realistic of someone who’s been in a previously abusive relationship. Her anxiety and possible PTSD are written in a way that makes me believe the author had some kind of experience with these mental illnesses. Her constant worry over her child is nerve-wracking to read about at times, but it goes to show how much of a loving mother she’ll eventually become when the baby is born. Keisha is a top example of a flawed character whose weaknesses don’t ruin the character development or make them unlikable. Other authors could learn something from this. I know I did.

And then we have the renaissance faire, which aside from the evil witch Cordelia sounds like a fun place to spend a day or even work at. Whether it’s the comedic and lighthearted aura of the trolls and gnomes, the eccentricity of the pirates, the class and elegance of the faeries, or anything else that has to do with the fantasy genre, I’m giving my due props to the author for her undying creativity and passion for putting together this world. People come to medieval conventions to get away from the harsh realities of real life. They can be anything they want and be welcomed with open arms. The sense of community among the workers along with their hatred for mediocre conformity makes this tale of escaping abuse that much easier to digest. These people aren’t just coworkers or friends to Keisha. They’re family. They protect each other physically and creatively. That’s a healthy family dynamic everyone deserves to have.

This was a short and easy piece of reading made easier by Valarie Savage Kinney’s undying creativity and passion for what she writes about. She preaches anti-conformity online quite often and practices it to the fullest extent. We all deserve a chance to expand our imaginations beyond the ordinary and Valarie makes us feel safe enough to do that through her writing and online presence. An extra credit grade goes to this wonderful book, the first in a series and boy, what a beginning it was! She’ll no doubt carry this momentum into the rest of the Windy Springs novels.

Pedestrian Knowledge

***PEDESTRIAN KNOWLEDGE***

One piece of writing advice you hear all the time is “write what you know”. I’ve heard arguments on both sides when it comes to agreeing with this claim. On one hand, you’re better equipped to write an intelligent sounding story with very few people doubting you. On the other hand, exploring new knowledge is what helps us grow as authors. I’ve said in the past how research is my least favorite part about the writing process. It’s not because I don’t want to learn or grow. It’s because if I get just one minute detail wrong, my critics will feast on the carcass like wild animals. It drives me nuts how picky some people can be. Doesn’t anybody just enjoy what they read anymore?

Well, that attitude towards the research process has changed the minute I received my critiques for Beautiful Monster. The problem with relying on pedestrian knowledge is that the things you think are well-known are actually more complicated than you originally anticipated. To use an R-rated example from that story: cock rings. Conventional wisdom dictates that you just slide the ring down to the base of the dick and that’ll keep a man hard forever. Well, to give you an idea of how complicated it actually is, I had my beta reader Marie Krepps tell me that the government can spy on HER computer instead of mine. Oh dear. Hehe!

You know what else isn’t pedestrian knowledge? Pregnancy. It’s not as simple as growing a big stomach and pumping out a painful baby after nine months. It’s a process. It requires extensive planning. Marie dinged me for this as well when at the end of Beautiful Monster Tarja gave birth to Windham’s daughter. Not only is Marie a loud and proud woman, but she actually gave birth to four lovely daughters, so if anybody can call bullshit on my “pedestrian knowledge”, it’s her.

What other things in life are not as pedestrian as we think they are? Fight scenes, psychology, farming, hunting, fantasy religions, and pretty much everything on planet fucking earth. As much as I don’t want to bend to the will of the nitpicky critics, it’s something I eventually have to do if I want to find success as an author. Think of all the movies out there that get shit on because the details and research are way off the mark. You see these criticisms all the time on places like Amazon and IMDB.

This is especially problematic when it comes to sensitive topics like disabilities, race, politics, cultures, and religion to name a few. It’s much harder to recover from bigotry accusations than it is to miss one crucial part of setting an animal trap, for instance. There were times in my writing career when I almost bawled my eyes out because my writing was seen as unintentionally bigoted, Tainted Love and Class of ’13 being my most infamous examples. I will admit that prejudice is hard to forgive, but if it was completely unintentional and the artist is sincere in his apology, then you can’t compare that to the Milo Yiannopouloses of the world. If you want to depict another culture in your writing, do you research and don’t rely on stereotypes. You’ll save yourself a lot of heartache. It’s not just “SJW” stuff. It’s actually important.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that nothing can be considered “pedestrian knowledge”. The world is a complex place and people do complex things. As a writer, you’re being relied upon as a bringer of change and a representation of everything that’s right. It’s a huge responsibility, so don’t fuck it up. If your readers don’t trust you, they’re not going to read anything of yours ever again. You wouldn’t want to study math from a teacher who doesn’t know the cube root of twenty-seven (spoiler alert, it’s three). You wouldn’t want to go to a rehab facility where the nurses have powder underneath their nostrils all the time. So why would anybody want to read books from an author who doesn’t care about the world around them?

And for god’s sake, please don’t rely solely on television and movies for your “research”. Do you know how many lawyers call BS on shows like Suits and Law & Order? Enough to make you question everything. Hell, there were flight attendants who boycotted the movie Flight Plan because of how their occupation was portrayed in that movie. Another spoiler alert: the flight attendants in that movie were depicted as uncaring jerks. If you legitimately don’t know what you’re talking about, do a Google search. Ask someone from that occupation. Or if you really want to get deep undercover, do what Marcus Sakey did when he was writing The Blade Itself: shadow cops and detectives. Just like in school, research can be a bitch sometimes, but it’s necessary for that all-important A+.

Wish me luck when it comes to fixing Beautiful Monster and getting my facts straight this time! I still haven’t fleshed out my chapter-by-chapter synopsis yet, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be in a rut forever. I’m Garrison Kelly! Even when you feel like dying, keep climbing the mountain!

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“I’m back in my house and you’re still sitting down. The crimson couch never felt so uncomfortable. And the room is so cold. The tape on your mouth is slowing your breath down. The rope is so tight. The tension becomes so tangible, so unbearable. I’m sorry if I crossed the line. I know I’ve lost it, but you are always on my mind. Obsessed with you and me. To love is harder than you think. I’m sorry if I raise my voice. I never meant to hurt you, but I had no choice. Don’t ever lie to me, ‘cause I’m smarter than you think. You love me, ‘cause I hate you. Everything but love. There’s no running away. There’s no guilt and no shame. I’ve crossed the line. Is this the end? There’s no running away even if you’re afraid. I’ll make you mine until the end.”

-Lacuna Coil singing “You Love Me ‘Cause You Hate Me”-

***POST-SCRIPT***

That Lacuna Coil song happens to be about Stockholm Syndrome and that could be an element I could add to Windham’s psyche when I rewrite Beautiful Monster. With Shelly Atwood being as lovey-dovey and tender as she is with Windham, why wouldn’t he have Stockholm Syndrome? But then again, I’d have to compromise that with his desperation to get out of that hellhole of a castle she lives in. Is it possible to work both sides of the argument into one mind? If not, then I’ll ditch the Stockholm Syndrome angle altogether.

How Could You?

Ross Maynard sipped his iced tea and read his newspaper as nonchalantly as he could. Even with a nearly deserted Denny’s like this one, he still had to keep his secret in the public eye. Wouldn’t want a nosy waitress making too much small talk with him. In between reading various stories in the paper, Ross would sneak a quick peek at the front entrance. He knew he had to keep calm at a time like this, but his racing nerves wouldn’t slow down for even a moment.

And then the Mexican bombshell Fatima Ruiz entered the establishment with a frilly red cocktail dress on and a heat-seeking glare. Normally she glided across the room with the grace of an angel. But even in high heels, she pulled off the perfect angry stomp with both fists at her side. Ross took another sip of iced tea to settle himself for the shit sandwich he was about to eat (not because he was dining at Denny’s).

Fatima sat across the booth from Ross and spent the first few seconds staring icicles into her former lover. She tapped on the table with her manicured fingernails and fidgeted with her long black hair, but never once taking that ice cold stare off of Ross. The guilty-looking gentleman took another sip of tea and maintained his silence. This lengthy moment of discomfort melted Ross’s heart like butter on an English muffin. He knew why she was here. He knew he was screwed.

Fatima gazed down at her engagement ring with even more ice cold bitchiness before ripping it off and waving it in front of the smart phone she pulled out of her purse. The sounds of popping and crackling echoed in Ross’s ears while a siren going off in his head told him to get the fuck out of there.

“When were you planning on telling me you were a cop?” asked the stone cold Fatima Ruiz. “Did you think I was stupid? Did you think I would never find out? Do you think this shit is going to end now that my father is in jail? This shit’s not over until I say it is.”

Ross fluffed his jacket and wiped his wet hands on his jeans to buy time. When he had enough of it, he folded his hands across the table and looked seriously into his lover’s eyes. “Your father was the leader of the Ruiz Cartel. He was responsible for too many deaths in this city. He had politicians and policemen alike in his back pocket. Not this time. A lifetime in the hole is where he’s headed. I make no apologies for my detective work, Fatima. It’s my job.”

“No apologies, huh?” asked Fatima rhetorically while nodding. “That’s your job: breaking women’s hearts? I trusted you, Ross. I let you into my home. We made love together. And now you’re telling me that doesn’t mean shit to you?” When Ross refused to show remorse for his actions, Fatima swatted the newspaper off the table and yelled, “What do you have to say for yourself?!”

“Nothing,” said Ross with a frosty tone. His confidence returned and he showed it with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m an FBI agent. It’s what I do. You were an easy target. You were my golden ticket into the Ruiz Compound. That’s how these investigations work, Fatima. I’m sorry you got your heart broken, but it is what it is. None of it was real. It was all business.”

Ross’s stony expression countered Fatima’s criminal rage to where the Latina beauty hung her head and allowed tears to flow softly from her eyes. Agent Maynard slowly reached his hand over to comfort his now ex-lover and she jerked away while shouting, “Don’t touch me!”

The agent allowed the tension between them to simmer down before asking, “So what did you come here for? To let me know that you’re on to me? To deliver some veiled threat? To kill me? Your entire cartel is being rounded up even as we speak. There’s nobody left to help you, Fatima. Your empire is gone. Gone!”

The Latina sobbed some more while gently saying, “I could kill you right now…” When Ross snapped at her to speak up, she snapped back with, “I could kill you right now! I don’t need a gun or a knife. I want to strangle you with my bare hands. I want to rip your balls off. I want to rip out your tongue for all of the lies you’ve told me!”

“If you’re so eager to join your empire behind bars, I’d say go for it. Go ahead. Slap me. Punch me. Do whatever it is you want to do. I don’t give a shit. I’ve got the cuffs in my jacket pocket. You want some new jewelry, be my guest,” said Ross in his increasingly icy tone.

Fatima wiped the tears from her eyes and gingerly picked her head up to meet her ex-lover’s hateful gaze. Her own heartless expression turned into a sadistic smile, but Ross remained undeterred. “Like I said,” she started with. “This isn’t over until I say it is. You think you’ve got the upper hand because you put my family in jail? You think you’re the only one who can play games with people’s emotions? I’m pregnant!”

Ross scoffed, “Bullshit!” and Fatima smiled even harder. She even threw in a few giggles. The detective’s solemn expression grew even darker as he contemplated the potential reality of what his lover just said. “Please tell me you’re bullshitting. This is all a joke, isn’t it?”

“I make no apologies for my detective work, Agent Maynard,” said Fatima. “I’m keeping this baby and I’m going to raise him as my own. You and I are going to have a family together, Ross. Oh wait, you already have a family, don’t you? A wife and daughter of your own. I wonder what they’ll think when they find out daddy impregnated a gangster chick. What will your coworkers think? What will the judge think when I demand child support from you?”

“You don’t know shit about being a mother!” belted Ross.

“And you don’t know shit about being in love. It’s all fake to you, right? I bet your own family doesn’t get to see the side of you that you’ve shown me all this time. All those expensive gifts. All of those happy moments. All of the love we shared. The whole world will know and you can do nothing about it,” grinned Fatima.

“So what are you going to do with that little runt, anyways?” asked Ross hastily. “You’re going to raise him to be a gangster just like every other member of your sick family? You’re going to teach him to murder and steal? You’re not a mother. You’re a damn fool! You’re going to march over to that abortion clinic and…”

“And what? Give you the satisfaction of fucking me over one more time? I don’t think so, honey. We’ve done things your way for the past couple of months. Now we’re going to do them my way. Here’s what’s going to happen: I’m going to rebuild my empire from the ground up and you’re going to help me. That means getting my peeps out of jail and recruiting new members. I don’t want just some hoods and thugs running around here. I want top brass motherfuckers on my payroll. I want cops, politicians, and other cartel factions. And who knows? Maybe if you do all these lovely things for me, I’ll show you what true love really is. That’s what you seem to be lacking these days,” said Fatima with a red-hot smile and villainous eyes.

“Give me some time to think about it, Fatima,” said Ross.

“Take all the time you need, baby cakes. It’s not like this little guy is going to pop out anytime soon,” said Fatima. She mockingly waved goodbye to her ex-lover and blew him a kiss before turning heel and model-walking out of the restaurant.

Ross tried to keep up his emotionless stature, but he couldn’t help holding his head in his hands and wondering how the hell Fatima Ruiz got the best of him. He thought of his own wife and daughter and all of the happy days at the beach they had. The little lady would run across the sand and bounce in the water like a little froggy. He would hold hands with his wife and shower her in kisses despite the disgust of those around them. He loved his family and he didn’t care what anybody thought.

He cared what his fellow FBI agents thought, however. They were going to tear him limb from limb, rip his badge away along with his heart and soul, and leave him homeless and alone. What kind of life was that for a soon-to-be former detective and his family? They’d have to do illegal, disgusting things just to get by, much like how the Ruiz Cartel got started. Ruiz Cartel…Fatima Ruiz…that bitch!

Ross pulled out a six shooter and fully loaded every chamber. One bullet for her. One bullet for him. Four bullets for anybody who disagreed with his dark logic. He kissed the barrel of his weapon and angrily whispered, “I’ll show you what love is, Fatima, you fucking bitch. I’ll kiss you with a bullet!” He knew he looked insane to the waitresses and waiters, but he didn’t give two shits and a flying fuck. In fact, he loved the bloodlust in his bulging eyes.

Dominick Zola

Dominick Zola does not sparkle. He burns. He wraps himself in a fiery cocoon and brings entire cities to their knees with his occult powers. But why would he want to do any of that when he’s the highest ranking mafia boss in the city of Seattle? Does he not have enough machinegun-wielding vampire buddies to do his heavy lifting for him? The conundrum Mr. Zola faces now is whether he wants to burn Seattle to the ground or control its citizens for as long as he feels they’re useful. It’ll be a while before Dominick gets bored with his puppetry. He is a vampire, after all, meaning an average human will be nothing more than a speck of dirt by the time Mr. Zola is on a metal slab. Will they even have medical examiners that far in the future? Will the world still be whole by then?

This violent nut job was slated to be the main villain for a Vampire: the Masquerade RPG session between me and my good friend Heather. If that role-play would have materialized into something, Dominick Zola would be a hard villain to kill. Then again, powerful villains with god complexes shouldn’t be easy prey anyways. Look at the people who are trying to bring him to his knees: a pregnant rape victim (Heather’s character), a man-child vampire, a human detective, and a vampire nurse. This is clearly not a fair fight; Heather’s team needs more people. How many more people? Probably the same amount who conform to Dominick Zola’s beliefs on a regular basis, which is an entire crime syndicate.

Mr. Zola bears an uncanny resemblance to Bob Geldof’s character from Pink Floyd the Wall in terms of the way he influences people. Both are charismatic leaders in their own way: Dominick is a vampire warrior (and who wouldn’t want to follow a cool guy like a vampire warrior) while Pink is a rock star who fantasizes about turning his audience into Nazi skinheads. Both leaders use the crossed hammers symbol to get their message out there and they both like to use the phrase “Trust Us” as a slogan. Well, Pink doesn’t actually say that in the movie, but I have seen the slogan on Roger Waters T-shirts, as well as that same performer’s inflatable pig.

It may take an army to bring down Dominick Zola. It may take a mythical god. It may take the entire world population just to restrain him for a few seconds. No matter which way you slice it, you don’t stand a fucking chance against this warlord. There are two ways this campaign would have played out if it was allowed to continue. One way is for Heather’s pregnant character and her three friends to flee the state of Washington toward higher ground (I originally suggested Hawaii, but vampires tend to not do well in a state known for its constant sunshine). The other way would be to give the four characters enough fighting experience and build them up before the apocalyptic fight. The WWE does the same thing when they’re choosing wrestlers to compete in the main event: they give one wrestler a string of victories to make him look believable for when that championship opportunity arises.

Because the latter of the two scenarios is more likely to happen, I’m going to have to establish a new rule with Heather if I ever play with her again. From here on in, her characters are not allowed to get pregnant or get injured constantly. If her character ever does conceive, then she can’t be bummed out when a villain kicks or punches her in the stomach. As a GM, I demand action. There’s no action sitting on the sidelines. All of the action is on the frontlines and my players will find themselves right in the middle of it regardless of their characters’ condition. What’s that? You’ve got two broken legs and a concussion? Suck it up, buddy. If you’re looking for sympathy, look in the dictionary between shit and syphilis. Dominick Zola isn’t going to just commit suicide for your pleasure. Either strap your boots on or burn in his destruction.

　

***WRESTLING DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

JOURNALIST: What kind of action can we expect from you when you return?

BIG SHOW: I’m going to be picking my fucking nose, what do you think I’m going to do?

Educational Fiction

We don’t need no education. We don’t need no thought control. No dark sarcasm in the classroom. Teacher, leave them kids alone. Hey! Teacher! Leave them kids alone! All in all, you’re just another brick in the wall. All in all, you’re just another brick in the wall. Sound familiar to you? It should. It was the perfect anthem for going to school and being miserable. Whether you were being bullied by the teachers, bullied by the kids, getting teenaged girls pregnant or being a pregnant teenager yourself, these separate phenomena have been and should be the subject of pretty much every educational fiction book on the library shelves. But to tell you the truth, the only educational fiction story I own is “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” and I have yet to read it. I’ve seen previews for the movie before, but I’ve yet to be properly introduced to it despite that. From what I’ve seen in the trailer, it does talk about bullying and friendship. Maybe even romance given that Emma Watson is in the movie. These may sound like inane topics when compared to world disasters, but they’re still important to talk about in some capacity. In fact, here’s a whole list of topics that all educational fiction novels should talk about:

1. Bullying. It’s been going on for way too long and despite all the deaths and heartache that has resulted from it, we’ve only been doing something about it since 2010. It should have never taken that long for us to realize that we need to treat each other with dignity and respect.
2. Friendship. This goes hand-in-hand with bullying since friends and family are your support network for when you’re going through those awful things. What also needs to be discussed is the idea of friends never seeing each other again after high school or college is over. Then again, that’s what Facebook is for. I guess.
3. Underage sex. When I went to school in the witch-hunting, Salem-esque town of Chehalis, Washington, the sex ed teachers taught us to wait until we were married to have sex after giving us a whole list of horrible STD’s to avoid by doing so. I’ve never heard so much dishonesty in my entire life. Then again, they have to have some way of keeping minors from fucking each other. Scare tactics are not the answer, though.
4. Teen pregnancy. In addition to that long list of painful-sounding diseases, another consequence of teen sex is pregnancy. Teenaged times are about having fun and being a kid. You can’t do those things whilst taking care of a baby. It’s one of the reasons I’m pro-choice. The other one being that kids can be really fucking annoying at times.
5. Drugs and alcohol. Promoting a straightedge lifestyle isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Hell, I’m straightedge myself, so I agree with drug education. But the whole “drugs are bad” approach can be downright ridiculous at times. It’s not enough to just say that drugs are bad and to use scare tactics. You have to teach these kids accountability and pride in their work.
6. Mental illness. This one hits close to home since I’m autistic, schizophrenic, and quite possibly depressed. High school is not a good place to start hearing voices in your head or to have a sad attitude all the time. It interferes with your social life, your work, and it may encourage bullies to pay you more visits. The earlier mental diseases are detected and accounted for, the better off the student will be.
7. The prom. I never got to go to the prom since I was too shy to ask anybody to come with me. I hated being told no and I still do. You want to know how much courage it took me to congratulate MMA fighter Ronda Rousey on Twitter for retaining her championship? All of it. Each and every last morsel of courage was used to post that message. If I’m that nervous around a high-profile celebrity, imagine what I’m like around regular people. Introverts like me quickly descend into our bubbles whenever danger approaches.

I’m sure there are more topics that need to be addressed, but these are the main ones that concern me the most. If you have any further suggestions, feel free to post them on the message board. Until then, I have one thing more to say. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

　

***TELEVISION QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Sexual harassment is just bullying with a boner.”

-Daniel Tosh from “Tosh.0”-