Pink Floyd the Wall Was Supposed to Be a Warning, Not a Playbook

 

David Draiman Doesn't Know What Anti-Semitism Is, So Someone Should Explain It to Him...Slowly

 

Roger Waters from Pink Floyd

 

Liora Rez, Israel's Favorite Butt Kisser

 

Roger Waters: This Is Not a Drill

Last night at the Tacoma Dome, Roger Waters continued the North American leg of his concert tour called This Is Not a Drill. It was a show full of great rock n’ roll music and left-wing politics, both of which I’m a huge fan of. It started out with a subdued version of Comfortably Numb (with thunder and lightning in the background) and went right into the antifascism with The Happiest Days of Our Lives and Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2 and 3. This show churned out the most badass version of Have a Cigar I’ve ever heard. Equally badass were songs like In the Flesh and Run Like Hell. He debuted a two-part song called The Bar, which was described as a community where people can come together and be themselves without fear of judgment. If it wasn’t for me having to wait fifteen minutes before the show to use the toilet, this night would have been completely flawless. Before driving to the Tacoma Dome, I ate at a restaurant called The Southern Kitchen and drank lots of lemonade with my meal (chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, and macaroni and cheese). A bladder the size of a snow tire was a distant memory compared to this wonderful evening with Roger Waters, one of my all-time personal heroes. I have my dad to thank for introducing me to Pink Floyd. I have my brother James to thank for driving me to Tacoma despite his tiredness. And I have Roger Waters to thank for putting on my favorite concert of 2022. Wash THAT all away, Five Finger Death Punch! Oh, I kid Ivan Moody!

Concerts

Well…I’m burned out and bored out of my mind for the thirteenth day in a row. So to alleviate this boredom, I’m going to post a list of all the concerts I’ve ever been to in my life. Nostalgia feels good sometimes, you know?

1992: 

• MC Hammer X Boys II Men (July 17th at the Seattle Center Arena)

1994: 

• WWF House Show (Sacramento, CA)

1996: 

• Sting and Geggy-Tah (August 30th at the Irvine Meadows Amphitheater in Irvine, CA)

2000: 

• Roger Waters: In the Flesh (June 27th at the Rose Garden Arena in Portland, OR)

2001: 

• Rammstein (July 6th at the Roseland Theater in Portland, OR)

2003: 

• The Moody Blues (June 14th at Marymoor Park in Redmond, WA)

• WWE House Show (Tacoma Dome)

2004: 

• Linkin Park, P.O.D, Hubastank, and Story of the Year (February 13th at the Tacoma Dome)

• Incubus and Sparta (August 7th at the Key Arena in Seattle)

• Korn, Breaking Benjamin, Chevelle, Skindred, and Instruction (November 14th at the Tacoma Dome)

2005: 

• Papa Roach, Skindred, and The Fuck-Ups (February 17th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)

• WWE House Show (Tacoma Dome)

• Green Day and Jimmy Eat World (September 26th at the Tacoma Dome)

• System of a Down and The Mars Volta (October 5th at the Key Arena in Seattle)

2006: 

• Korn, Mudvayne, and 10 Years (March 5th at the Tacoma Dome)

• Magical Strings (Bremerton, WA)

• Roger Waters: Dark Side of the Moon (October 12th at the Key Arena in Seattle)

2008: 

• Nightwish and Sonata Arctica (September 9th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

2009: 

• WWE No Way Out (February 15th at the Key Arena in Seattle)

• Green Day and The Bravery (July 3rd at the Key Arena in Seattle)

• Soulfly, Prong, and Mutiny Within (October 7th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)

2010: 

• Tool and Rajas (July 10th at the Key Arena in Seattle)

• Roger Waters: The Wall (December 11th at the Tacoma Dome)

2011: 

• Rammstein (May 15th at the Tacoma Dome)

2012: 

• Rammstein (May 14th at the Tacoma Dome)

• Nickelback, Bush, Seether, and My Darkest Days (June 23rd at the Tacoma Dome)

• Linkin Park X Incubus (September 5th at the Tacoma Dome)

2013: 

• Magical Strings (Bremerton, WA)

• Ladysmith Black Mambazo (Edmonds, WA)

• Rodriguez and Jenny O (April 30th at the 1st Bank Center in Denver, CO)

• Bill Maher (June 22nd at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)

• Three Days Grace and Otherwise (August 23rd at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

• Papa Roach, Pop Evil, and Age of Days (October 5th at the Showbox Market in Seattle)

2014: 

• The Pink Floyd Experience (March 29th at the Admiral Theater in Bremerton, WA)

2015: 

• Cavalera Conspiracy, Death Angel, Corrosion of Conformity, Lody Kong, and Sanction VIII (May 1st at Studio Seven in Seattle)

• Final Fantasy Symphony (July 10th in Seattle)

• Slipknot, Lamb of God, Three Days Grace, Bullet For My Valentine, Theory of a Deadman, and Motionless in White (August 23rd at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

2016: 

• Nightwish, Sonata Arctica, and Delain (March 7th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

• Rob Zombie X Korn (July 27th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Slipknot X Marilyn Manson (August 11th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Disturbed, Breaking Benjamin, Anthrax, Alter Bridge, Saint Asonia, Pop Evil, Stitched Up Heart, and Windowpane (August 21st at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Five Finger Death Punch, Shinedown, Sixx AM, and As Lions (November 5th at the Tacoma Dome)

2017: 

• Garrison Keillor  (April 15th at the Pantages Theater in Tacoma, WA)

• Roger Waters: Us & Them (June 24th at the Tacoma Dome)

• Brit Floyd (July 1st at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)

• Brian Regan and Dennis Regan (July 28th at the Pantages Theater in Tacoma, WA)

• Green Day (August 1st at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Metallica, Avenged Sevenfold, and Gojira (August 9th at Century Link Field in Seattle)

• Incubus and Jimmy Eat World (August 19th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Jason Mewes (September 14th at the Tacoma Comedy Club)

2018:

• Pop Evil, Black Map, and Palaye Royale (February 25th at El Corzazon in Seattle)

• Starset, Palisades, Grabbitz, and Year of the Locust (February 28th at El Corazon in Seattle)

• Papa Roach and Nothing More (May 4th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

• Soulfly, Nile, After the Fallout, and Devilation (May 13th at Studio Seven in Seattle)

• Breaking Benjamin, Five Finger Death Punch, and Bad Wolves (July 16th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Seether, 10 Years, and The Dead Deads (July 31st at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

• Halestorm, In This Moment, and New Years Day (August 17th at the WaMu Theater in Seattle)

• Evanescence and Lindsey Stirling (September 7th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

2019:

• Jason Mewes (February 2nd at the Tacoma Comedy Club)

• Soulfly, Unearth, Incite, Skinflint, Odyssian, and Emanon (February 23rd at Club Sur Rocks in Seattle)

• Within Temptation, In Flames, and Smash Into Pieces (March 16th at the Showbox SoDo in Seattle)

• Slipknot, Volbeat, and Gojira (July 30th at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Rob Zombie, Marilyn Manson, Corrosion of Conformity, Palaye Royale, and Bones UK (August 3rd at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, WA)

• Ghost and Nothing More (September 19th at the WaMu Theater in Seattle)

• Starset, Palisades, Hyde, and A Brilliant Lie (October 13th at the Neptune Theater in Seattle)

• Babymetal and The Hu (October 16th at the Paramount Theater in Seattle)

• Hellyeah, Nonpoint, and Deepfall (December 10th at El Corazon in Seattle)

2020:

• Soulfly, Toxic Holocaust, and Madzilla (February 10th at El Corazon in Seattle)

The Chehalis Video Store Incident

 A few years ago, I got rid of my VHS copy of Pink Floyd the Wall in a bout of spring cleaning. It’s currently sitting in a thrift shop somewhere waiting to be bought if it hasn’t already been. If you asked me about this back in the mid-90’s, I wouldn’t have thought that the movie would end up being one of my favorites of all time. Never mind the fact that I was a pre-teen in the mid-90’s and The Wall is an R-rated movie (for good reason). Then again, I never cared about age limits and neither did my parents. But this isn’t a story about being too young to watch an R-rated movie, no, no, no. After all, there are certain movies that disturb the shit out of the audience regardless of how old they are, examples of which include The Human Centipede, Hostel, Saw, and of course, Pink Floyd the Wall.

Papier-mâché masks with two holes for the eyes and one hole for the mouth. If you were a character from The Wall and you wore one of these, it meant you lost your individuality and were successfully bent to the will of your corporate masters. It also meant you were going to eventually be ground into hamburger meat so that you’ll look even LESS distinguishable from your conformist peers. The masks alone could make you question your love for cheese. The hamburger scene will make you into a permanent vegetarian. And that’s just one music video! The Union Jack morphing into a bloody cross will make you question what kind of sauce is covering your meatball sub. A crudely-drawn monster morphing into a literal and figurative giant asshole? If that happened in 2020, the toilet paper would be gone long before the pandemic.

But long before the movie even starts, your formerly untainted eyes will feast upon the artwork on the cover: a screaming face with an excessively wide mouth, a bloody chin, a bloody shoulder, hideous dental work, and a blue background that will make you question your need to ever drink water again. I dare you to find this artwork and give it a big old smooch. Go on! I dare you! Chicken! Wait a minute…did I say chicken? Was I being a hypocrite just now? I would have been if it was the mid-90’s. Pink Floyd the Wall and its artwork terrified the shit out of me during that time. My limbs would shake. The color would drain from my face. My blood would go cold at the mere suggestion of watching that movie. One time my leg shook while I was resting my foot on the bed and tying my shoe.

Every time my mom and dad took me and my brother to Sight and Sound Video Store in Chehalis, Washington, there was always the looming threat of somebody wanting to rent Pink Floyd the Wall and subjecting me to the horrors within. But why would I want to admit to being scared of it when Pink Floyd was one of my favorite bands at the time? Sure, I grew up in a progressive family, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel at least some obligation to hide my fear from those around me. Besides, my family wasn’t the only influence in my life. My classmates at Chehalis Middle School would have caught wind of it if I let the cat out of the bag. My family is progressive, Chehalis is not. Macho conservatism was the norm in this god forsaken town. Any weakness on display was mocked and ridiculed until the end of time, giving way for even more weaknesses to be revealed by proxy.

One day at Sight and Sound, the secret came within razor-thin closeness of being out. It didn’t help matters that on the back wall of the video store, there was a big fucking Pink Floyd the Wall poster with that disgusting, hideous face looking down upon everybody who dared enter the store. I kept my head tucked low and hurried to the kids section where my eyes could be averted. What would I rent that wasn’t the world’s scariest rock opera? The Three Stooges? Donald Duck? Mickey Mouse? Dick Tracy? Before I could make my official decision, my parents come up to me and tell me that Sight and Sound is selling CD’s and T-shirts in the back of the store, which was in direct eye-contact with the vomit-inducing face.

My mother read my emotions like a book despite my best efforts to hide them. The color draining from my face, the sad expression, the dewy eyes, the beating cold sweat, they all prompted my mom to finally ask…“What’s wrong?” This was my opportunity to bear my soul and to “break down the walls” so to speak. This was the friendlier version of Gerald Scarfe’s judge telling me to expose my feelings to the world. But instead, the conversation went like this:

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You look sad.”

“I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I’M FINE!”

The conversation kept going on and on with “I’m fine” and “what’s wrong?” responses until I reluctantly agreed to go with dad to the back of the store to check out their CD’s and T-shirts. I stared that Pink Floyd poster right in the face and was ready to melt into a puddle…until I didn’t. The nasty-looking face no longer had control over me. But why? Why the sudden loss of fear? Was I exposed to it so many times that it became meaningless? Was this truly the Law of Diminishing Returns? Whatever it was, I looked at Pink Floyd CD’s and T-shirts with Dad regardless. Surprise, surprise, my dad wanted a T-shirt with the screaming face on it and it still didn’t melt me like a snowflake. Would I eventually feel this kind of courage towards the putty-faced masks in the actual movie? I wasn’t about to press my luck, so we didn’t rent it.

I thought that would have been the end of that. We’d get our movies, CD’s, and T-shirts and then get the fuck out of there. But then the four of us ate at a Chinese restaurant across the street from Sight and Sound. It’s amazing that I still had an appetite for Chinese food considering everything I just went through. We were sipping on our drinks waiting for the food to arrive when my mom asked…

“What happened to you in the video store?”

“Nothing.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

“You were walking with your head down when we went into the store. Was somebody picking on you?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“NOTHING IS WRONG! I’M FINE!”

She seemed intent on asking me over and over again until I spilled the beans. At this point it wasn’t a mother asking about the welfare of her son. It felt more like an interrogation. We even had the hot lamp above our table to complete the effect. But I kept on denying that anything was wrong until the conversation ran its course. She even shushed me when I got too loud, but I stood my ground. “Nothing is wrong! I’m fine! I’m not sad! Nobody was picking on me!”

In a town full of gun control opponents, I dodged the biggest bullet of them all. But what would have happened if I admitted to being afraid of Pink Floyd the Wall and its movie artwork? Would I have been forbidden from going to see Roger Waters in 2000? Would I have been labeled a wuss by everyone around me? Would the bullying I experienced in my freshman year of high school have been worse than it already was? The latter might have been true since I solved all of my disputes at the time with violence and screaming. Wusses and violence don’t exactly go hand-in-hand, after all.

But an even bigger consequence to admitting my crippling fear was that Pink Floyd the Wall wouldn’t go on to become my favorite movie of all time. I wouldn’t have received that message of protecting my individuality at all costs. I would have blindly believed anybody who told me my creativity was no good. I would have stumbled into mediocrity and not given two shits about it. Think of all the TV shows, movies, and books I would have missed out on if I admitted to being afraid all the time and allowed authority figures and bullies to tell me how to think. I might not even have a writing career if that was the case. I could have received the “be yourself” message from any piece of media, but where else was I going to get it from that had “Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2” playing in the background? The music spoke to me and so did the movie.

I’m not saying that everyone should keep their fears a secret all the time. That’s just what I did and I may have done some serious damage to my psyche by doing that. Not admitting fear is the same as not admitting other things in life such as being bullied, being abused, being mentally ill, being in pain, or god knows what else. Silence is your worst enemy in a world where everyone wants to tell you what to believe and how to think. If you don’t think for yourself, there are plenty of Hitlers out there who are willing to tell you what life is all about. If you don’t stand up for what you believe, there are plenty of drunken spouses out there who will beat it into your brain, literally and figuratively. Stand for something…or you’ll fall for anything…right into a sausage grinder!

Remember

CHORUS 1

Remember that school is not about learning

It’s about how many F’s you’re earning

Remember that college is not about growth

It’s about how much money you’ll owe

VERSE 1

Roger Waters had it right all along

Bricks in the wall written down in a song

Don’t want to grow up to be like my teachers

Especially the ones who could pass for preachers

Raise your hand and ask your stupid question

Everyone’s laughter leaves an acidic essence

The report card reads like a crucifixion

Do you still know that it’s only pulp fiction?

CHORUS 2

Remember that school is not about friendship

It’s about tests and assignments so endless

Remember that college is not about skill

It’s about drowning your sadness in pills

VERSE 2

Nobody thinks to befriend the weird kid

Only the beautiful and clearly fearless

Nobody thinks to break the shyness

Of those who live in shadows and silence

CHORUS 3

Remember that school is not about achievements

It’s about keeping your demons a secret

Remember that college is not about jobs

It’s about telling the bullies to fuck off

Remember that love is truly exclusive

Remember that friendship is elusive

Remember that nothing is meant to last

Except the voices of your broken past

BRIDGE

Wash your clothes and cut your hair

Apply for your job like you actually care

The money and benefits just can’t compare

But you know how this ends and it’s unfair

CHORUS 4

Remember!

Remember!

Remember that your teachers are not your friends

Remember that the students aren’t yours to defend

Remember that the curriculum is useless as fuck

Remember as you hold onto your very last buck

Remember!

Remember!

FINAL LINE

Remember I will always love you…if you give me a chance

Extremism

***EXTREMISM***

When you’re young and naïve, extreme comments can be very appealing, either because of comedic value or aspirations of badassery. As a teenager, blatantly offensive jokes were the funniest to me. During my early twenties, I still found them wildly hilarious despite me conforming to a college environment. With age comes wisdom and what was once cool in the past isn’t so cool anymore. My 33^rd birthday is this coming June and I’d like to think I at least have enough wisdom to know the difference between what’s acceptable and what’s not. I often find myself measuring my posts online for this very reason. Would you like to hear some of the salty stuff I said during my youth? You may find it darkly funny, then again, your jaw might fall on the floor. Either way, it’ll be a slight departure from the emotional diarrhea blog entries I’ve posted lately. Speaking of which, I finally learned the word that sums up the act of “Wrestling With My Mind”: brooding. How did I not learn this word earlier?!

This journal entry will have three different examples of extreme dialogue and the first one is the most contemporary example I can think of. The year is 2010 and a Roger Waters concert at the Tacoma Dome has just let out. I’m walking the streets with my dad, my step-mom Charlie, and her son Ryan. We’re walking adjacently to the train tracks and there are drunken morons wrestling around on them and yelling like lunatics. The drunks were warned by train station personnel to get off the tracks, but they kept hooting and hollering. When I describe this incident, I could just as easily say things like, “What a night that was!” or “I’m glad we got out of there!” But this is a blog entry about extreme dialogue, so instead I say…“I was kind of hoping the drunks would get run over by the train.” You all know via my poetry how I feel about drug addicts and alcoholics who behave obnoxiously in public, but this is a stretch even for me. And by stretch, I’m talking Gumby levels of stretchiness.

Example number two. The year is 2009 and I’m taking a creative nonfiction class at Western Washington University. As part of the class curriculum, we had to read certain books and one of them was “This Boy’s Life” by Tobias Wolff. There’s a scene where a young Tobias is with his mother at some kind of Seattle fair and these two bearded guys in flannel shirts approach them. The guys treat the Wolff family to sugary treats, hotdogs, and rides on bicycles. The smart thing for me to do would be to answer the actual assigned questions on the online forum for our class. But instead I…sort of…compare the two bearded men to the mountaineers from Deliverance. You know the ones. “Squeal, piggy!” The next day, the teacher announces that several people were offended by my post and that I should be careful about what I say on the internet. In hindsight, this was a good lesson. The problem? I was too arrogant to heed it, so I silently stewed for the rest of the class and laughed about it once we were dismissed.

Final example. The year is 2008 and I’m still attending school at WWU, this time for a dramatic writing class. The class met every Friday afternoon and that was when our scripts for short theater scenes were due. Mine happened to be about a kid named Kurt Liddell who had to be comforted by his girlfriend Georgia Cushing after getting a D- in US history. Kurt could have phrased his feelings any way he wanted. He could have wished for higher marks. He could have vowed to work harder. He could have wished for a transfer request. But no. He says something that would unfortunately be a hallmark for plenty of school-related stories in my future career (including, sadly enough, Silent Warrior). Kurt Liddell says…”Those Columbine kids had it right all along.” Let that sink in for a moment. Kurt channels the Columbine kids because he got a D- in school. If that’s not extreme behavior, I don’t know what is. Nonetheless, I got an A on that assignment and was given the opportunity to write more scenes in that series as an alternative to the scheduled work, so I thought that was pretty cool.

Needless to say, these were not years where I had my shit together. I’m 32 years old and some of my shit is still scattered here and there. If you learn one thing from this blog entry, it’s to not let your ego get in the way of a good lesson. No matter how good you are (or how good you think you are), there’s always room to improve your life, whether it’s creatively, professionally, or personally. The day you stop growing is the day you get complacent. Complacency can be smelled from miles away and it stinks like shit. If growing from extreme behavior is your way of moving on in this world, go for it. I know growing up sucks, but there are still aspects of youth that can be appealing to adults, Legos and videogames being chief among them. I’m Garrison Kelly! Keep climbing the mountain!

***THE NEXT NOVEL***

Silent Warrior has finally been put to bed for the very last time. It’s only a first draft, so there will be lots of editing in the future, which I’m very much looking forward to. In the meantime, I need a new novel to work on. The ideas that seem the most appealing to me right now are Beautiful Monster, Booger the Clown, and (maybe) Suck It Double Dork. Only Beautiful Monster has been developed from beginning to end. The other two need some fleshing out, which is why I spent so much time brooding in the first place. Heh. Brooding. I love that word! Brooding!

***MOVIE DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

GANGSTER A: What about us?

GANGSTER B: That shit was wrong, man.

GANGSTER A: You just drove by and started blasting.

GANGSTER B: That shit was wrong, man.

GANGSTER A: We weren’t even the ones who capped your homie.

GANGSTER B: That shit was really wrong, G.

CRAZY K: Man, fuck you niggas! It was your set that did my homie Little Joe! You motherfuckers would try to kill me if you had the chance! Man, fuck you niggas! Fuck y’all!

-Tales from the Hood: Hardcore Convert-

***POST-SCRIPT***

Andrew Gale a.k.a. Booger the Clown is a huge fan of gangster rap and the movie Tales From the Hood. If his story is the one I end up writing, TFTH will be referenced quite a bit. Hell, in the opening segment, I’ll have Andrew drive down a dark highway with “Born II Die” by Spice One blasting on his stereo. “My gat screamed fire! The bullet told me shoot that motherfucker, he’s a liar!” Man, I love those lyrics! Badass!

2017 In Review

***WRITING***

Earlier this year, I published a collection of fifty micro-stories in the sci-fi, fantasy, and horror genres called Poison Tongue Tales. If it wasn’t for my awesome beta reader Marie Krepps, this publication wouldn’t be possible. I know I brag about her a lot, but that’s just an illustration of how wonderful of a friend she is to me. Pointing out weaknesses and possible solutions in my stories while maintaining a silver-tongued sense of humor is a valuable skill to have. It makes the editing process virtually painless when you’re dealing with someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing. So far Poison Tongue Tales is sitting pretty at a three-star out of five rating on Good Reads and Amazon. Then again, it has only been reviewed once, so I’ve got a lot of marketing ahead of me.

Whenever I’m not standing on a street corner and shouting about my book like a madman (is that how marketing is done?), I’m usually pumping out more first drafts. In 2017 alone, I’ve written micro-stories for American Darkness 2 (contemporary) and Poison Tongue Tales 2 (sci-fi, fantasy, and horror), poetry and songs for Lunatic Justice (a future publication that’s currently being beta-read by Marie), and a psychological heavy metal fantasy novella called Demon Axe. While trying to come up with the next novel idea, I’m currently pumping out more stories for what will be American Darkness 3.

I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love the writing business so much that I want to build my entire life around it. It may not be the most profitable venture I’ve ever embarked on, but who gives a shit? I could have just as easily obtained an engineering degree, but I’d be bored to tears at whatever job I got with it. The writing business doesn’t owe me anything. I owe the writing business everything.

***MUSIC CONCERTS***

Another thing I’m grateful for is the fact that I’ve seen five music concerts in 2017. It all began with Roger Waters at the Tacoma Dome during my birth month of June. The special effects, the poignant music, and of course, those creepy ass putty face masks, they made Roger Waters’ performance a special one. It was my fourth time seeing him live and this was easily my favorite performance of his. Just over a week later, I got to see the Pink Floyd tribute band Brit Floyd and they’re every bit as satisfying as the real deal. That’s a lot of Floyd in just a short time span. Then again, as long as someone is singing “We don’t need no education!” in my ear, I’m a happy motherfucker.

The other three concerts I went to in 2017 were spaced throughout the month of August. First on the list was Green Day at the White River Amphitheater. The second was Metallica at Century Link Field. And the third was Incubus, also at the White River Amphitheater. All three of these bands along with the openers brought their fucking A-games. I’ve never been prouder to be a metal head than in August 2017. Onstage antics, badass music, special effect gimmicks, and the sense of siblinghood I felt with the people sitting next to me at all three shows, they were worth the long rides home.

In 2018, I’ve scheduled myself for even more shows: Pop Evil and Starset in February (separate shows) and Papa Roach and Soulfly in May (also separate shows). And of course, every year at the White River Amphitheater, there’s the obligatory Pain in the Grass festival with an ass-load of bands (tickets aren’t available yet, but I’m fixing to snatch one up once the musicians are announced).

***COMEDY SHOWS***

This year has also seen a great deal of hee-haws and belly laughter, compliments of guys like Garrison Keillor, Brian Regan, Jason Mewes, and the cast of Capitol Steps. I know how bleak Garrison Keillor’s performance looks in hindsight considering he was exposed as a sexual predator in the #MeToo movement, but I went to see him long before the allegations surfaced, so I was able to enjoy a night of poetry and giggles with him.Brian Regan has been a favorite of my biological dad and brother James for a long time now. Going to see him was like a pilgrimage for them and I tagged along to get a few laughs in too. And then there was Jason Mewes’ Q&A session, where my James Bond-esque laugh got a huge pop from the crowd in attendance as well as Mr. Mewes himself. I got to meet Jason Mewes after the show and he couldn’t have been more cordial and fun to be around. To close out the giggle factory, there’s Capitol Steps, an ensemble cast of political figure impersonators who made the Donald Trump circus in 2017 bearable and laughable at the same time. In 2018, I’m planning on taking my mom with me to see Trevor Noah and Bill Maher (again, on separate shows), but I haven’t purchased the tickets yet.

***VACATIONS***

Sitting on airplanes or in cars during long trips can be summed up with the phrase “six hours of ass torture”. The vacations themselves, however, were worth the sore asses. The first vacation of 2017 was a Mexican cruise book-ended with a few days in California. I got to pet a manta ray, snuggle with a sea lion, ride a banana boat, and get my picture taken with Spiderman. The trip to Seaside, Oregon shortly after was a little more low-key with window shopping and beach strolling, but I like low-key all the same. And then I spent some time in New Orleans, where I ate pralines (and other delicious meals), bought Legos, got a table massage, and ventured onto a plantation to learn about the horrors of black slavery. Mom’s going to try and get a job as a teacher again so that we have extra income to go on more of these wonderful trips.

***CONCLUSION***

The more grateful you are for the positives in your life, the more positives you’ll have in the first place. This sounds ironic coming from a guy like me who has a permanent resting bitch face, but on the inside, I’m feeling the gratitude, which can only be described as warm and fuzzy. The year 2018 will bring good things as well if you want it to. Even if it’s something as simple as a back massage or a meal at Red Lobster, don’t take it for granted. Life is too short for constant complaining and drama. Be good to yourself in 2018. Don’t let this year of silver linings pass you by. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***AMERICAN DARKNESS 3***

If there are two things American Darkness 3 is in no short supply of, it’s women named Vikki and women who are bound and gagged. “Duct Tape Princess” will bring you the best of both of those worlds. It goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

1.      Vikki Colt, Lounge Singer

2.      Nadia Rinehart, Street Fighter

3.      Johnny Rinehart, Nadia’s Gangster Husband

PROMPT CONFORMITY: To be announced.

SYNOPSIS: After putting on a seductive performance at a gangster bar, Vikki gets a visit in her apartment from a furious Nadia, who is convinced that Vikki was flirting with Johnny while onstage. Nadia has the fighting abilities to pummel anybody into powder, but instead she ties and gags Vikki with duct tape and holds her hostage in the apartment. The sexy songstress begins to think twice about choosing shady venues.

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

Up next on the chopping block is Antonio Fujiwara, a giant ninja from a future Poison Tongue Tales 3 story called “A Bastard Sword in a Haystack”. Yes, you heard that right: a giant fucking ninja is attempting to blend in. He sticks out like a hard-on at the chalkboard, but that won’t stop him from at least attempting to find refuge in the dark forest, which happens to be full of tall trees.

***JOKE OF THE DAY***

Q: What do you call it when a fireman and a paramedic blow each other at the same time?

A: 69-1-1.

STEAM

***STEAM***

A few weeks ago, I wrote a song for Lunatic Justice called “STEM Sell”, where I argue that having a STEM degree doesn’t necessarily equal happiness despite the job opportunities and abundance of money. In case you don’t know, STEM stands for Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics. The kinds of jobs that come with a STEM degree include medical doctor, mechanic, computer expert, and architect to name a few. As much as liberal arts majors like me hate to admit it, STEM skills are in higher demand than creative ones.

But think of how boring this world would be without art. If everybody had STEM jobs, you can kiss Harry Potter, Pink Floyd, Wonder Woman, and everything else considered fun goodbye. Speaking of Pink Floyd, there’s a scene in The Wall movie where Pink’s math teacher beats him for writing poetry in class instead of doing homework. That scene is based on Roger Waters’s childhood. If he had caved in to the hate and got a “real job” instead of singing in a band…well, you know how this conversation is going to go.

Want another real world example? Jim Carrey gave a college speech about how his father could have been a professional comedian with the sense of humor he had, but instead took a financially safe job as an accountant (the M in STEM). Jim Carrey’s father was laid off from his job, which proves that failure isn’t something only artists experience. Imagine if Jim Carrey took the “safe route” and became an accountant like his dad. Actually, no, don’t imagine that, especially if you’re prone to crying your eyes out.

Ever see the bumper sticker that says “Earth without art is just eh”? Well, every time I hear a STEM student brag about how he’s better than liberal arts majors, I think of that bumper sticker. That same braggadocios student is probably wiping his tears away with those hundred dollar bills. That’s not to say STEM doesn’t have a place in modern society, but it shouldn’t be the only thing we have available jobs for. We need to find a balance between happiness and financial stability.

All you have to do is stick an A (Art) in between the E and the M and you’ve got STEAM. Think of all the creative fields out there and how they’re interconnected with STEM. The music industry is a prime example of this. Of course, the creative side comes from the songwriting and performances. But if you want to put together an album or put on an elaborate concert, you have to have a fairly extensive knowledge of the equipment involved. Rammstein concerts are fun as fuck, but without sound engineers, lightning designers, and pyrotechnicians, I don’t care how good they are as musicians, because their concert will sound like shit without those essential crew members.

The movie industry has STEAM applications as well. Sure, there’s the acting, screenwriting, directing, makeup art, and all of that. But you still need a STEM guy to know how to work the camera, create special effects, edit the film reels, and engineer the sound effects.

Take any creative endeavor and it will have connections to STEAM no matter how much someone argues otherwise. And since I’m an author, I might as well throw my personal experience into the mix. My job is to put words onto the screen and edit the final product so that it’s nice and polished for publication. If you plan on publishing, you have to have an extensive knowledge of economics (math), computer skills (technology), audience psychology (science), and…help me out here, I’m trying to think of an engineering example. Or perhaps your STEM experience can reveal itself in your actual manuscript. Maybe you’re writing a spy novel where someone has to use explosives (technology). Maybe you’re doing a combat scene and have to diagnose the traumas of each fighter (science).

STEM jobs and artistic jobs both require a great deal of dedication and hard work in order to succeed. Failure is a part of both sides of the spectrum and being able to dust yourself off and get back up is the true test of success, not money or college experience. I’ve experienced my fair share of failures in my career. I’ve had two-star reviews, angry criticisms, and plenty of doubters who simply thought I sucked.

I could go with the safe route and be a computer specialist, but would I experience the same amount of joy as I do when I create a story or poem out of thin air? Hell no. STEM jobs are important and highly abundant, but there’s more to life than changing oil in somebody’s car. If you’re a STEM employee and you’re happy with life, good for you. But that’s no excuse to put down liberal arts majors when you’re just as capable of failure as they are. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***POISON TONGUE TALES 2: THE RIGHT TO REMAIN PSYCHOTIC***

It’s a new week at the WSS and it’s time for a new story. This time we’re dealing with Baby Steps as the major theme. What better way to conform to that prompt than by writing a story called “Where’s My Damn Money?” What else am I going to call it? Here’s how it goes:

CHARACTERS:

1. Chetty Claymore, Elf Necromancer
2. Pia Caine, Cat Wizard

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Pia’s small payments against her debt are considered baby steps toward the larger goal of being financially free.

SYNOPSIS: When wandering mage Pia is wounded in battle, Chetty saves her life in return for a whopping amount of money. A year has passed since these events and Pia is no closer to paying off her crushing debt. One night while concocting a potion in her lab, she is visited by the impatient Chetty, who threatens to kill her and the ones she loves if she doesn’t pay what he’s owed. Pia believes she can simply fight her way out of debt, but Chetty is part of a much larger organization of debt collectors and even if she wins, he won’t be her last opponent. Chetty also reveals that Pia’s personal information has been shared with her attacker from one year ago.

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

Earlier tonight, I posted my non-WSS story called “Lionize” and Andrea Lovell, the CEO from that story, is next on the chopping block. Andrea was originally a character conceived by my old D&D friend Heather when the two of us would do private role-plays together on MSN Instant Messenger. She’s usually cool with me using her RPG characters in my stories, but if she isn’t this time around, then I’ll happy use someone else. I think she’ll be happy with what I come up for her as a drawing.

***FACE BOOK POST OF THE DAY***

WWU stands for World Wrestling University and WWE stands for Western Washington Entertainment. Both acronyms are said the Michael Cole way, which is by pronouncing them with extra emphasis on the W’s. Wait a minute, something’s not right here.

Brit Floyd Concert

***BEFORE I BEGIN: ROGER WATERS CONCERT***

Of all four times I’ve seen Roger Waters in concert, last Saturday night was by far his best performance. He may be north of 70 years old, but he hasn’t missed a step. I especially liked when he played Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2 and had those black middle school children come out and sing with him. They wore orange prison suits and then once they were done singing their part they took them off and had “Resist” T-shirts underneath. That was a huge theme throughout the concert: resistance to Trump. Pigs (Three Different Ones) and Money were the most insulting songs to our piggish president. Speaking of pigs, the inflatable pig happened to have Agent Orange’s face on it. All in all, it was a tremendous show and I hope he does another one soon. Pink Floyd in general has always been my biggest musical influence and Roger Waters brought out those feelings within me that night.

***MAIN SUBJECT: BRIT FLOYD CONCERT***

These two subjects couldn’t have segued any better together. This coming Saturday, it’s yet another concert slash one day vacation for me. It seems as though 2017 has been famous for these kinds of getaways. Even as I write this journal, my mom and step-dad are both in Denver, Colorado enjoying Paul Simon’s final performance before he retires. And then when they come home, Mom and I are taking a trip to Seattle to see Brit Floyd, a tribute band to, you guessed it, Captain Obvious, Pink Floyd. Last Saturday featured the real deal and now this Saturday will be an excellent tribute. Two weekends bookended by the music of Pink Floyd. That’s a lot of putty-faced schoolchildren, screaming teachers, colorful prisms, saggy-jowled dogs, and flying pigs. Pink Floyd’s music had a huge impact on me during my younger days and it continues to mean the world to me in today’s life. Whether it’s Roger Waters himself or someone else playing his music, I can still hear that sense of rebellion screaming vulgar lyrics in my ear. As far as WSS stories go, I’ll try to get my story submitted before the day of the concert. Speaking of which (another seamless segue)…

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

TITLE: A Weasel and a Thief

CHARACTERS:

1. Ozzy May, Gnome Rogue
2. Laurel Tate, Human Marine

PROMPT: Slumber

PROMPT CONFORMITY: The rest of Laurel’s platoon are in a state of slumber for the evening.

SYNOPSIS: Laurel is an active duty soldier assigned to stand guard for her platoon at night. Midway through the shift, she realizes her radio is missing and is scrambling to find it. She eventually catches a little thief named Ozzy in the act of stealing weapons and money from her platoon. Laurel chases the little bastard, but he is too quick for her even when she’s opening fire on him. If she doesn’t get the equipment back to her platoon, she will be punished severely by her commanding officer.

FUN FACT: The title of this story is WWE inspired. Back in 2015, Brock Lesnar was giving an interview about his upcoming WWE Championship match against Seth Rollins at the Battleground pay-per-view. Lesnar described Rollins as “a weasel and a thief” because of the way the latter won his championship and basically stole it from Lesnar. The WWE is always such a huge source of creative fuel for me. Why shouldn’t it be? It’s pretty much the only thing I watch on TV these days.

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

(From mid-June of this year.)

I seem to be having plenty of dreams about going to rock concerts lately. Last night I dreamed I was going to a multi-band festival that took place…in an art museum. I guess anything can qualify for an arena these days. Hell, I once had a dream where Pantera performed “This Love” in an abandoned grocery store. Back to the topic at hand, the first band that performed at this festival was Brit Floyd (a Pink Floyd cover band obviously). They kept having equipment problems and had to move to different stages throughout the art gallery. I got so mad at them that I went online and called them Shit Floyd. Then I woke up and the weirdness was over. Truth is, I do plan on seeing Brit Floyd in Seattle on July 1^st, but I know for a fact my dream was just a dream. I’ve seen them on TV before and they were fucking stellar!

Roger Waters: Us & Them

***BEFORE I BEGIN: GREAT WOLF LODGE***

This past Monday and Tuesday, I was staying at the Great Wolf Lodge in Centralia with my brother James, my niece Reina, and her friend Abby. The indoor water park had some badass slides, to say the least. My Old Yeller moniker was in full effect that day as I flew through those tubes at a million miles an hour. I also liked those buckets of water that kids could dump over our heads once they filled up automatically. It’s the most innocent form of trolling imaginable. But the food, goddamn, all that food. The burger joint across the street had a one-pound burger with four fucking patties, enough cheese to fill an entire dairy farm, and more grease than the water park had water. There were probably enough calories in that meal alone to power The Rock through his six hour workout. All in all, it was an enjoyable trip and a worthy birthday present. And now here’s your feature presentation.

***ROGER WATERS: US & THEM***

This coming Saturday night, former Pink Floyd bassist, singer, and songwriter Roger Waters is going to do a concert at the Tacoma Dome. Like nearly all of his shows before this one, he’s not going to have an opening act. This will be my fourth time seeing him live with my first three times being in 2000 in Portland, 2006 in Seattle, and 2010 at the Tacoma Dome. Roger puts on such elaborate shows that transcend the music itself. It’s never the same concert twice. The giant video screen, the inflatable pig, the laser show, and the pyrotechnics all come together to accompany the always awesome music of Mr. Pink Floyd himself. For this particular concert, he’s supporting a solo album he put out recently called “Is This the Life We Really Want?” I got it for my 32^nd birthday this year and I love every track on the album. I believe it’s the first one of his that received an explicit lyrics warning. Swearison Killy loves his filthy language! As far as creative output goes, I’m going to try and get my WSS contest entry written before Saturday night. Since we’re on the topic of that:

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

TITLE: Dayton Spoke Choir

CHARACTERS:

1.      Laguna Pearman, Charismatic Cult Leader

2.      Matt McQueen, Detective

3.      Caylee McQueen, Matt’s Daughter

PROMPT: Into the Unknown

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Matt doesn’t know what to expect when he enters the church, so he’s definitely diving into the unknown.

SYNOPSIS: Matt takes time off work to rescue his kidnapped daughter. He finds her in an abandoned church, but not the way he wants to. Caylee is singing in a brainwashed choir of kidnapped children led by Laguna. Sickened and infuriated at the same time, Matt won’t hold back when he tries to beat the crap out of Laguna.

EXTRA NOTE: I’m having second thoughts about this one since it sounds eerily similar to a Poison Tongue Tales story I wrote called “Lord of the Crack House”, which involves a detective father trying to free his drug addicted daughter from a boarded up building occupied by a crazy coke dealer. I’ll have to think of some ways to differentiate the two stories before I go in and write it out.

***CONCERT QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Stop letting off fireworks and shouting and screaming! I’m trying to sing a song! I mean, I don’t care! If you don’t want to hear it, you know, fuck you! I’m sure there’re a lot of people here who do want to hear it! So why don’t you just be quiet! If you want to let your fireworks off, go outside and let them off out there! And if you want to shout and scream and holler, go do it outside! I’m trying to sing a song that some people want to listen to! I want to listen to it!”

-Roger Waters-

Xanax and Perrier

VERSE 1

My weirdest dreams are of school it seems

Naked in front of the students and deans

A grown adult fighting it out with teens

Doing crystal math until my eyes bleed

Dreading the day I receive my grades

Failing every class, I cannot be saved

There’s always next year, no question about

It’s hard to speak up when my teeth fall out

CHORUS

Xanax and Perrier to end my day

My oldest kitty is snoozing away

Eight hours until I feel the sun’s rays

Back to the theater, back to the craze

VERSE 2

My wildest dreams are of music and screams

Heavy metal menus in the strangest venues

Pantera tore it up in a grocery store

3DG in a lecture hall, I want more

Rammstein shot flames in a Chinese diner

Roger Waters at the Stonehenge, not bad, old-timer

Brit Floyd in a museum, not an easy feat

It’s hard to sing songs with loosening teeth

CHORUS

Xanax and Perrier to end my day

My oldest kitty is snoozing away

Eight hours until I feel the sun’s rays

Back to the theater, back to the craze

BRIDGE

Sometimes all I want is to go the fuck home

But these dreamy busses are so damn slow

The foot ferries splash as they’re about to crash

The airplanes race into outer fucking space

VERSE 3

My nerdy dreams make me want to cream

Comic book shops on every street block

Libraries with dark fantasy sweetness

My dream theater knows my favorite weakness

Seeing my notebooks being sold on the shelves

Seeing my novels being read by elves

Hearing my poems being read by pixies

My dreams come true whether it’s now or sixty

EXTENDED CHORUS

Xanax and Perrier to end my day

My oldest kitty is snoozing away

Eight hours until I feel the sun’s rays

Back to the theater, back to the craze

Every youngster has the right to dream

Every adult can set them free

Never give up, never let it die

Spread your dragon wings and fly

Upcoming Concerts

***UPCOMING CONCERTS***

I had second thoughts about posting this blog entry because I didn’t want it to seem like I was arrogantly bragging. The only reason I’m posting it is because another week has gone by and I’m out of topics to discuss. So I figured, why not tell you all about upcoming concerts I’m attending? Heavy metal and rock music in general has always been a source of creative fuel for me. My current WIP novel Demon Axe uses such grinding music as its central theme. Consider these concerts to be further research (and in some cases personal therapy).

The first concert I plan on attending is not musical at all. It’s Garrison Keillor doing monologues. And before you ask, no, I wasn’t thinking of him when I chose my penname Garrison Kelly. Yes, I know the two names sound similar, but it’s just a coincidence. Besides, my first name really is Garrison, so…yeah. I’ve been a fan of Mr. Keillor since listening to Christmas-themed tapes of his in the late 90’s. His sound effects rendition of “The Twelve Days of Christmas” was very inspiring to my Lego adventures for some reason. I’ve always associated the horn noises with Tony Twister (Time Twisters) and bird squawking with pirate parrots. Now that I’m all grown up and we’re in a fierce political climate, we need Mr. Keillor now more than ever.

On June 24^th at the Tacoma Dome, Roger Waters is putting on a show with both new material and old songs. He’s putting out a solo album this year called “Is This What We Really Want?” and I can’t wait to snatch it up. Roger was a huge inspiration to me during his time with Pink Floyd. He was always standing up for the underdogs of society, which included students in mean-spirited schools (“we don’t need no education”). He has the wisdom of a sage and he knows it.

Speaking of Pink Floyd-related concerts, on July 1^st in Seattle, a tribute band called Brit Floyd is going to play at the Paramount Theater. I like the idea of tribute bands because the real thing isn’t going to be around forever. If it’s already gone, where are we to get our fix? Brit Floyd, that’s who. I’ve seen The Pink Floyd Experience back in 2014 in Bremerton. Awkward date aside, it lived up to the hype, so I expect Brit Floyd to do the same.

On August 1^st at the always lovely White River Amphitheater, Green Day is playing a concert with Catfish and the Bottlemen as the opening act. I have no idea who Catfish and the Bottlemen are, but this is a good chance for them to earn my respect. This will be the third time in my life I’ve seen a Green Day show. They always have an audience member come onstage and play instruments with them, to which I’m always nervous that the crowd member will fuck up and make things awkward. Nevertheless, I’m excited to see them for the third time.

And finally, later in August, Incubus is also playing at the White River Amphitheater, but with Jimmy Eat World as their opening act. Like Green Day, this will be my third time at an Incubus show. When last I saw them, they opened for Linkin Park at the Tacoma Dome in 2012, where my brother James and I reunited with a childhood friend named Sean. I know Incubus will be just as awesome in 2017.

In addition to these concerts, there was another one I was considering going to, but opted out of it. Metallica (along with Avenged Sevenfold and Gojira) is going to play at Century Link Field in Seattle in August. This is a metal head’s wet dream come true. And then I saw the ticket prices and considered my parents’ recovery time between Green Day and Incubus (since they’ll be the ones driving). As much as I’d love to worship at the altar of James Hetfield, I just can’t do it this year. But even so, that’s still five concerts I’m attending this year and I’m grateful for all of them.

That’s what you really have to remember as you have these wonderful life experiences: be grateful for all of them. The more grateful you are, the more you attract things to be grateful for. It’s not just a bunch of new age mumbo-jumbo; it’s the truth. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***BENEVOLENT SLAYERS***

Marie Krepps is at it again with her twisted creativity. Since she’s been one stream of never-ending awsomeness when it comes to beta-reading Poison Tongue Tales, I’m going to be the same thing for her when it comes to beta-reading Benevolent Slayers, a fantasy novel she kept on the shelf for a whole decade before deciding to dust it off and try again. She’s quite the prolific author and I’m jelly of her longevity. I’m also peanut butter. Hehe!

***POISON TONGUE TALES***

And now that we’re on the topic of beta-reading and editing, if you follow me on Deviant Art, you would have noticed three short stories in your inbox. Those are all Poison Tongue Tales entries and there will be three more tomorrow, three more the next day, and three more after that. In the case of tomorrow, you can look forward to polished versions of “Demon Hunter”, “Descent”, and “Deus Ex Machina” (holy shit, that’s a lot of D’s!). I’ve put Poison Tongue Tales off for far too long and it’s only fair that I keep up my end of the bargain for Marie-Pie. When I eventually publish this sci-fi, fantasy, and horror collection, it will be my fifth book overall (if you don’t count the three now inactive books on my Good Reads page). Wish me luck!

***DEMON AXE, CHAPTER 16***

It has come to my attention that there aren’t a whole lot of fast-paced action sequences in this novel. That makes me sad. So to make up for that, chapter sixteen is going to involve a battle between the elf kingdom and the corrupt Paulson City police, which is of course led by the always spiteful Roger Zee. Keeping track of this many warriors is always a challenge for me, but it’s one I accept. There’s also going to be a special focus on Raven and Arthur Triscloud vs. Roger Zee. It’s clearly not a fair fight; the Triscloud family needs more soldiers.

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

Speaking of ass-kicking sons of bitches, Scott Percival is next on the chopping block. He was the main hero of the short story “Shield Me”, where he had to protect his prostitute girlfriend from a vicious madame named Carla Madder. The story itself is more than just a bloody battle; it’s a question of forgiveness. Can Scott stay by his girlfriend after knowing what she did for a living while he was off at war? The simple answer would be yes considering the story’s economy, but things aren’t always as simple as they seem.

And since Scott Percival is modeled after WWE wrestler Roman Reigns:

***WRESTLING QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“All you dudes out there who’re saying I can’t wrestle, calm down, relax, take a sip of your beers, and shut your mouths.”

-Roman Reigns to an abusive WWE audience-

Sleep Study Results

***SLEEP STUDY RESULTS***

Warning: this journal about my sleep study results will be so boring that you yourself will fall asleep reading it. Hopefully, you’ll be listening to new age music and snuggling with a kitty while you’re sleeping. If you’re snoring loud enough to wake up the whole household, you too will want to undergo a sleep study. Read at your own risk.

Five days after my 31^st birthday, I finally had the sleep study that I’ve been meaning to do since forever. I filled out a questionnaire describing my symptoms (snoring, waking up drained, lack of motivation, etc.) and the doctor said they were all consistent with sleep apnea and being a night owl. In order to combat the night owl syndrome, I’ve been waking up earlier in the morning with no excuses. The first week it was 10:30, the next week it was 10:00, the next it was 9:30, and from this point forward, it will be 9:00. It seemed like I was having more energy, but I was still taking naps in the middle of the day that lasted hours.

A few days ago, I took a home sleep test where I wore a heart monitor around my chest, had tubes in my nose, and a patch around my finger. If my bed was capable of spinning, I would be able to empathize with Crazy K from “Tales from the Hood”. All joking aside, the equipment was pretty goddamn uncomfortable to wear to bed and I never got a good night’s sleep. I went to bed at one in the morning and took the gear off at five. Despite only wearing the gear for four hours, the heart monitor was still able to get a definitive result.

Later that morning, I had a weird ass dream where Smokey was kidnapped Final Fight style. There were grizzly bears in my backyard, but I don’t know how they fit into the dream. I got out of bed and scoured the neighborhood for Smokey while trying to blast a confession out of everybody with an energy shotgun. Nobody confessed and I couldn’t find Smokey, so I wrote a heavy metal song about this incident called “Scour”. I couldn’t remember the lyrics when I woke up. Otherwise, I would have written and posted it to my social media accounts. It was a damn good song if I do say so myself.

A few days later, I get a call from the doctor in charge of my sleep study saying he has the results of the home test. Not only do I have a bad case of sleep apnea, but it was worse than he expected. He ordered a CPAP machine for me to use at home for thirty days. I have yet to pick up the machine, but it’ll definitely happen. My mom’s friend from high school Sandy uses one and she sleeps very soundly at night. Hopefully, it’ll give me the same amount of energy.

This past Monday and Tuesday, I spent most of the day helping my family move a bunch of heavy crap out of their storage locker and into our garage. After both sessions of moving, I felt so exhausted that I took a five hour nap. No creative work got done during those days, which I will talk about in further detail in the next few sections of this journal.

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

Before the contest in which I posted “Zion Heart” ended, I told the WSS that I wanted to take a one-week vacation from the next contest so that I could catch up on my backburner creative projects, which included editing the shit out of Poison Tongue Tales, beta-reading for my Deviant Art bestie Zero Urrea, building a WWE Lego set that I got for my birthday, and catching up on watching the last few episodes of NCIS: Los Angeles. I also planned on catching up with reading the “Final Curtain” stories and voting for my favorite one. But like I said, the last few days have been exhausting for me, more so than usual, so I can’t work under those tired conditions. Hopefully, the next few days will be more productive. It’s probably best that I opted out of this week’s contest since the topic was “Game of Thrones”. I’ve never watched that show or read the book a day in my life, so I would be flying blind the whole time. Plus, there aren’t any story ideas in my archives that could take “Game of Thrones” as wordplay. A game and a throne? That’s two prompts in one. What am I supposed to do with them? Sorry if I sound like a whiny bitch. That wasn’t my intention. I’m just sleepy today from all the heavy lifting and getting up early in the morning.

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“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 the wall. All in all, you’re just another brick in the wall.”

-Pink Floyd singing “Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2”

***POST-SCRIPT***

It’s funny that I should randomly select those lyrics from my quotes archives, because “Zion Heart” is about Roger Waters and his “controversial” statements about Israel. It also takes place in a high school, so there’s an added bonus. I swear this is just a coincidence. Maybe. It could be. I don’t know. Anyways, we have ears, say cheers!

Zion Heart

“Ladies and gentlemen, our next act for the Central River High year-end talent show is a classic rock acoustic guitar piece. Please put your hands together for Miss Eleanor Paris!”

From behind the curtain, hearing Mr. Jeremy Land’s voice on the microphone accompanied by applauding hands sent chills through Eleanor’s body. She thought back to all of the times older kids shoved her against lockers and called her sexist names. She thought back to all of the teachers who doubted her guitar-playing abilities. And now here they all were to see what she was made of.

The redheaded, beige dress-wearing Eleanor took a deep breath to calm her nerves and treaded through the curtain to take her seat on the stool. She took a moment to survey the crowd before her. Some of the boys were chuckling silently and pointing at her. Some of the girls put on their best bitch faces with their arms folded. Another deep breath later and it was show time.

She rested her acoustic guitar on her lap and adjusted the microphone to her height before she started strumming away. She was gentle with every chord, almost putting her worst critics in a siren’s trance. And when she sang her lines, she had a voice of pure angelic gold.

“The child lay in the starlit night. Safe in the glow of his Donald Duck light. How strange to choose to end a life. How strange to choose to kill a child. Hoover, Blaupunkt, Nissan Jeep, Nike, Addidas, Lacoste and cheaper brands. Cadillac, Amtrak, gasoline, diesel. Our standard of living, could this be a reason…that we would choose to kill the child? That we would choose to kill the child?”

Those dark and heartbreaking lyrics put thoughtful frowns on the faces of her audience. No more were they giggling and pointing. Eleanor had these dopey teenagers at full attention. She strummed her chords with even more passion than before only to find her microphone silenced as she sang the second verse. She patted the microphone head a few times and then pounded it with her fist to try to get it working again. The once doubtful students were now in shock.

“I assure you, Miss Paris, that there is absolutely nothing wrong with your microphone.” There was nothing wrong with Principal Gary Weinberg’s microphone either as he sat in the back of the auditorium with a disgusted look on his pudgy face.

“However!” he said with a booming voice in his Jewish accent. “There is something wrong with that song you’re singing! For all of our younger students who didn’t live with this kind of music, that song was written by former Pink Floyd bassist Roger Waters! His recent comments in the news about the Jewish people reek of racism and hatred! This school prides itself on its anti-discrimination policies! Because you, Miss Paris, have played a song by a raging bigot with the intent to incite trouble, you by proxy are in violation of those rules! Get off the stage! As a matter of fact, get out of my school!”

The student audience went silent as Eleanor ducked her head in shame and shed silent tears. She didn’t want to appear weak in front of the same people who put her down so many times. She wanted to get up from her stool and hide in a corner somewhere, but her legs were shaking with anxiety.

The dark haired, purple dress shirt and jeans-wearing Mr. Land approached the stage and gave Eleanor a gentle hug to try and comfort her. All it did was make the tears pour like a flooding rainstorm. “It’s okay, Eleanor. It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

Mr. Land pounded the microphone until it started working again. With a stern look on his face and his finger pointed at Principal Weinberg, he ripped into him with, “As a history and political science teacher, I thought I should correct you on something. If you actually paid attention to Roger Waters’ comments, he was attacking the Israeli government for their treatment of the Palestinians. It had nothing to do with Jewish people in general and certainly had nothing to do with little old you, Principal Weinberg! And quite frankly, I agree with what Roger Waters has said!”

Principal Weinberg laughed in jest and said, “Oh, this is rich. You’re actually debating me on this. You think you know more about my culture than I do.” Gary’s face turned serious when he said, “The fact that you’re even arguing this with me is hysterical. Actually, there’s nothing funny about it. It’s disgusting. It’s disgraceful. It’s unbecoming of someone like you, Mr. Land, who’s supposed to have an intricate knowledge about worldwide cultures!”

Eleanor held her hand up like she would if she wanted to be called on in class. She weakly said, “Um, excuse me, Mr. Weinberg, but this isn’t about…”

“Shut up, Miss Paris!” yelled the Jewish Principal as he stood up and pointed a commanding finger at her. “I’ve said pretty much everything I wanted to say to you! Now take your guitar and play that vile racist crap somewhere else!”

“Don’t you talk to her like that!” shouted Jeremy. “You never talk to your students that way! And by the way, if you’ve actually paid attention to anything Roger Waters has done over the course of his life, you’d know that you’re reminding everyone of how depressing your school system has become! Do you know why he says, ‘We don’t need no education?’ It’s because people like you make school a dangerous place to go! These students depend on you for guidance and wisdom! They don’t want to be talked down to by a power hungry, bottom feeding snake in the grass!”

That last line got a round of applause by the student audience while Gary Weinberg smiled sarcastically and shook his head. “You guys like that?” The audience cheered louder. “You want him to keep going?” They cheered even louder. “Well, he’s not going to do that! You’re fired, Jeremy!” The audience went silent and formed frowns on their faces. “As the Principal of this school, it’s my job to keep order around here! Are you surprised by the fact that I fired an insubordinate employee? You kids are lucky that the worst that happens to you is detention! In the real world, if you don’t conform to the rules, you sleep on the corner! Get out of here, Jeremy! Out right now!”

Mr. Land, seething with hot rage, threw down his microphone and broke it in two before marching his way down the aisle and through the exit. Before making his departure, he said, “You can take the microphone replacement out of my severance package!” He slammed the door with a thunderous thud.

Eleanor Paris remained sitting on the stage with tears in her eyes, snot in her nose, and a contorted frown on her face. She knew she was next on Weinberg’s shit list, but didn’t have the strength in her convulsing legs to get up and go. The Principal encouraged her with, “Well, what are you waiting for, Miss Paris? Get going! The final curtain has dropped on this talent show! Move it!”

She stood up and staggered off the stage, tripping many times in her high-heeled shoes. There were times when she just crawled across the floor with the helpless audience watching in pity. This demeaning scenario put her mind back to those dark places. This crippling anxiety was what she felt whenever another student physically or verbally assaulted her. It was what she felt when she doubted her own guitar playing abilities. It was amazing she could hold onto her guitar at all with her shaky fear as she took the walk of shame.

Eleanor Paris was ready to give up the fight against a corrupt system and walk out of the door with tears dominating her beautiful visage. She held onto the door handle for support and took one last sorrowful look at Principal Gary Weinberg’s jowl-covered face. This man had just fired his best teacher, expelled his best student, and silenced an entire crowd of students before turning them into conformist, putty-faced zombies. Come to think of it, what did she have left to lose? Who the hell did this guy think he was? What the fuck was she going to do about it?

She turned to face her tormentor with a different reason for trembling. It wasn’t anxiety; it was anger. Pure, white hot, volcanic anger for the authoritative bullshit that served as Roger Waters’ creative fuel. Eleanor steadied her lips and asked, “What was that thing you said about kids only getting detention for punishment? Well, seeing as how detention and expulsion are really just vacations in disguise and summertime is already here…”

An evil, quivering, rage-induced grin spread across Eleanor Paris’ face as she raised her guitar in the air and smashed it over Gary Weinberg’s head, knocking him to the ground and giving him a reason to abuse a bottle of Advil the next morning. The students and teachers alike gasped in shock while Eleanor shrugged her shoulders and said, “Do we really need an education from a guy who just lost fifty IQ points?” The student audience burst into raucous cheers while the teachers were frozen with fear. 

Remember Every Scar

***REMEMBER EVERY SCAR***

I was listening to the rock music station on my TV and they played a song called “Remember Every Scar” by Escape the Fate. The lyrics basically said that every horrible thing you’ve been through will make you a stronger person in the end. We hear this sentiment all the time: “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Does it? Do people really learn to move on from their traumas or do their demons haunt them forever and either turn them into nasty people or make them consider suicide? Does this mean that in order to get stronger you have to already be strong? Does this mean you can’t learn to rebuild over time because you already have to have those skills?

Personally, I don’t believe it’s a matter of innate strength. It’s more of a matter of feeling overwhelmed and having no solutions. In order to gain that inner strength, there has to be some kind of solution to the emotional demons available. Maybe a person to reach out to? Maybe a quick call to 9-1-1? Maybe what it really takes is a well-placed scream to the sky above. Screaming is good, especially if you’re going to see a heavy metal concert. When people consider suicide as an exit from their problems, it’s not because they’re “weak” or “selfish”. It’s because they genuinely believe there are no solutions to their distress. I threatened suicide twice in my lifetime, once in 2000 when I had PTSD and once in 2003 when I had schizophrenia. My mental illnesses were interfering with my ability to function and I unfairly labeled myself as being stupid because of these distractions.

But does reaching out and finding peace really make a person stronger afterwards? Not always. Remember the serial killer Henry Lee Lucas? His prostitute mother beat the hell out of him and humiliated him when he was a kid. He could have gotten mental health counseling, but instead he grew up to have one of the highest body counts of any serial killer. Would he have turned out that way if he grew up in a loving family? Maybe, maybe not. This is a nature vs. nurture debate waiting to happen.

Then there are people who don’t harm others, but harm themselves instead. They chug alcohol by the bottle and take a large dosage of pills while doing it. They shoot heroin into their arms. They get involved with shady people and allow them into their lives. Coming back from something as intense as this requires rehabilitation, but with our current drug laws, they’ll instead get jail time, which could include mandatory minimum sentences. The solutions are getting less and less available for these poor people and a lot more wounds are about to be opened in addition to coping with the past.

If someone in your life is trapped in a whirlpool of negativity, the best thing you can do for that person is never give up on them. Maybe the correct song isn’t “Remember Every Scar” by Escape the Fate. Maybe it’s “Never Have to Say Goodbye” by Papa Roach. Jacoby Shaddix used drugs and alcohol to escape from his demons, but he eventually found his permanent solution in the form of a best friend who never gave up on him. When the best friend died, Jacoby wrote that song about him. He’ll never have to say goodbye, because the lessons he learned from this best friend were enough of an inspiration for him to get his ducks in a row and continue being a badass rocker.

The phrase “Never give up” sounds cheesy to someone who’s going through a lot of turmoil, but that’s only because he doesn’t hear it enough from people who actually believe in that mantra. The more you believe in never giving up, the more convincing it will sound to someone else when you pour your heart out to them. It’s not just a catchy slogan on John Cena’s T-shirt; it’s something to remember when you feel you’re too close to the edge. There is always a solution to your worries. It’s not always readily available, but if you look for it, you’ll find it. If you’re a friend of mine and you need help, know that I’ll never give up on you. Do you have a dream? I’ll see you through it. We can do this together. We always do. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

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

This week’s theme is “The Final Curtain”, so I decided that I wanted to enter a story about a school talent show. Holy shit, I write a lot of short stories about school! This one is called “Zion Heart” and it goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

Eleanor Paris, Student Guitarist

Jeremy Land, History Teacher

Gary Weinberg, Jewish Principal

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Eleanor’s “offensive” performance could lead to the final curtain of the talent show.

SYNOPSIS: A year-end talent show is taking place at Central River High School and the final act of the day is Eleanor playing “To Kill the Child” by Roger Waters on her acoustic guitar. Halfway through the song, her microphone is cut off by Principal Weinberg, who sees Roger Waters as anti-Semitic since the former Pink Floyd bassist supports Palestine instead of Israel. Just when Eleanor is about to leave the stage in tears, Mr. Land stands up for her while demonizing Weinberg. Jeremy goes on to say that rock and roll is about artistic freedom and by censoring Eleanor, the Principal is proving Roger Waters right.

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

My next drawing will be of a character from last week’s short story “Vampire Empire”. It will be of Michael Finn, the vampire warrior who stumbled upon a satanic church for shelter from the sun. For a reference picture, I was thinking something along the lines of Marilyn Manson. Speaking of which…

***QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“If you want to find out who your real friends are, sink the ship. The first ones to jump aren’t your friends.”

-Marilyn Manson-