The Real World: Anime

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“You want to win the war? Know what you’re fighting for!”

-Slipknot singing “Custer”-

***THE REAL WORLD: ANIME***

Remember a few blog entries ago how I asked you, my lovely audience, how you can tell the difference between what’s worth defending and what’s worth surrendering? Well, the same can be said for any kind of dispute whether it’s with yourself or other people. It’s all about risk vs. reward. But in order to achieve this goal, you have to absolutely know what it is you’re fighting for, just like Slipknot says in that song. If it’s a political climate, what are you trying to accomplish: convincing an unwilling debate opponent to see things another way or convincing an entire congress to do the right thing?

When I was a teenager, I took no interest in politics, so I waged my wars over the next best thing: internet disputes. I fought over everything whether it was worth the risk or not. If anything, I was fighting over a bruised ego and I was obsessed with making my offender pay. It’s not like telling someone off over a computer screen is going to change anything, but my teenaged self didn’t have the wisdom to know that. Thus we have one of my most notorious internet disputes, The Real World: Anime.

From 2001 to 2004 and again in 2005, I was a rabidly zealous member of Play By Web, a text-based RPG site where users could set up message boards based on genre or gaming system whether it’s sci-fi, D&D, Vampire: the Masquerade, etc. I have no idea what possessed me to join The Real World: Anime, because I hadn’t seen one episode of The Real World to know what the hell was going on. I guess I joined because I was an anime nut and really into shows like the Gundam series and Cowboy Bebop.

I take the role of Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop and role-played him within the confines of this game. My posts were only a few sentences long and they didn’t quite live up to the Spike Spiegel character, to be honest. Sarah, one of the admins for that group, sent me a private message asking me to play him better, because the co-admin was a lot tougher than her with regard to rules and regulations.

Rational-thinking adult Garrison would have said, “No problem!” and did the right thing. But hormonal teenager Garrison, complete with a hair-trigger temper, fired the first shot in what would be an uphill verbal war between myself and the admins. My opening line? “You’re damn right I’m pissed off!” I can’t remember how the middle of the rant went, but it ended with, “You’re not going to fucking toy with me!”

Can you believe we actually came to a peaceful resolution to that argument? I actually apologized to the admins! But then Under Siege, Pt. 2 came weeks later when the admins banned me from the game for being too out of character with my portrayal of Spike Spiegel. I basically portrayed him as a jumpy weird ass who listened to Al Green rather than a smooth-talker who listened to Yoko Kanno. That was the end of my run, but not the end of the war.

Instead of being nice and taking the high road, I told the tougher of the two admins to go fuck herself after a long rant detailing how her criticisms were lies and her tough love was just an excuse to be nasty. Also, being the brave and steadfast guy I was, I told her I wouldn’t be reading any more posts from the thread I used to rant against her. That was the public forum way of blocking her from posting more messages.

So let’s see what all of this online vitriol actually accomplished. I was still banned from the game, the admins didn’t change their viewpoints, and I still sucked at playing Spike Spiegel from a fan’s perspective. I fought a war based on a bruised ego and it ended badly. Sarah and tough-chick: 1, Garrison: 0. Slipknot’s prophetic lyrics for “Custer” wouldn’t come for another thirteen years, but it’s not like I would have listened anyways except for the heavy beats.

I would go on to pick more online fights in the 2000’s and I would lose every single one of them. No realistic goals, no strategy, all offence, and no defense. Sometimes it’s important to just let things go. That’s what I’m doing now that we’re in the 2010’s and I’m at peace because of it. Imagine that: life becomes less stressful when you don’t argue over stupid shit. If you’re going to argue over something, net neutrality and tax overhaul are good places to start, so as long as your vocabulary isn’t limited to words that have “tard” in them. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

Speaking of uncomfortable trips into my past, the next Dark Fantasy Warrior to be drawn is Jacob Kruger from my messiest first draft novel to this day, Filter Feeder. He’s a clam fisherman with his weapon of choice being a big ass metal anchor. How he manages to carry that into battle and use it efficiently is a fucking miracle. I guess his muscles really are that big. Goddamn, I’ve got a lot of muscle-bound guys in my stories!

***AMERICAN DARKNESS 3***

I guess all of those “Write every day!” memes on Face Book are really starting to sink in, because I already have an idea for the next short story: “Brandi”. It goes like this:

CHARACTER:

1. Dustin Faulk, Lonely Bachelor
2. Adele Faulk, Dustin’s Sister
3. Brandi, Sex Doll

PROMPT CONFORMITY: To be announced.

SYNOPSIS: After finishing college and getting engaged, Adele visits her older brother Dustin to share the news with him and catch up on old times. When she shows up at his apartment, he’s sitting on the couch with an inflatable sex doll named Brandi as a surrogate girlfriend. Adele holds off on the engagement announcement and instead tries to convince Dustin to find a real girlfriend since his behavior is “depressing”. Dustin likes Brandi because she isn’t capable of saying no to him. Rejection is a major source of frustration for Dustin when he tries to court “real women”. When he learns of Adele’s engagement and general life success, he becomes even more withdrawn into his single life microcosm.

FUN FACT: The last name Faulk isn’t meant to be a modified version of the F-word. It’s just a coincidence. I swear on my mother’s grave even though she’s still alive. Hehe!

"She Is My Sin" by Nightwish

Valley of the Damned is currently being developed as the second act of my dark fantasy novel Fireball Nightmare. I’ve smothered the members of Nightwish with love like an obsessive fan boy. But this is 2014. All of this dark fantasy lust had to come from somewhere. That somewhere was 2002. It was summertime and my schizophrenia was just starting to develop. In order to keep my creative soul alive underneath the rubble caused by head voices, I had two things to keep me company: Valley of the Damned in RPG form and “She Is My Sin”, my very first Nightwish song.

The year 2002 was one where I was still an active patriot at Play By Web dot com, the message board RPG website I spoke of several posts earlier. During those days, I was developing my creativity by inventing new role-playing game systems. They were simple, yet effective. I had a dystopian war RPG called Cutthroat, a fantasy-western game called Lost in a Lost World, and then there was my pride and joy, the apocalyptic dark fantasy RPG known as Valley of the Damned.

The premise of the latter was basic at best: the devil turned the world into a fiery hellhole and instead of working together to beautify the earth, the citizens would rather exploit each other. Ronald Reagan always said it would take an alien invasion for the world to get along. But what about a diabolical invasion?

My older brother James introduced me to Nightwish’s “She Is My Sin” around the time I was developing Valley of the Damned. It was a heavy metal song with an opera chick singing, just like any other Nightwish song. A dark fantasy RPG and a heavy metal opera song: the marriage of these two mystic forces was too obvious to ignore.

I could see it all now: a warrior covered in a black cloak and hood wielding a fiery sword enters the battlefield with “She Is My Sin” playing in the background. Several monsters from vampires to succubae to the ugliest of orcs surround this warrior with the intent to devour him. So what does the mysterious warrior do? With a few spins of his fiery blade, he turns the battlefield into the same hell the devil has created from the entire world. The monsters lay bloody, broken, and bruised while the cloaked warrior continues his quest. He still hears Tarja’s voice singing to him, which probably sounded nicer than my schizophrenic voices sounded to me.

Valley of the Damned and Nightwish: a match made in heaven. But you have to remember that this was 2002 and I was still going to high school, which means there were several threats to my psychological health, all of which derailed my zeal for a Valley of the Damned movie idea. Granted, I wasn’t going to WF West anymore.

Instead I went to Central Kitsap High School, which was a better school, but not a great school. How great could they be if they hire a senior social studies teacher with a mean streak a mile wide? Where’s the greatness in having to deal with a bully who actually knows how to fight? As for the friends I’ve made, what’s so great about being too shy to look them up after graduation, let alone ask one of them to the prom? What about home life? Is there any joy in having a step-father who was verbally abusive and physically imposing?

While these things alone didn’t cause my schizophrenia, they made it worse. When my schizophrenia was at its worst, I had so much trouble concentrating I swore I was getting stupider with the passing days. I didn’t want to be stupid anymore. I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t sign up to be so mentally crippled that I completely forgot about Valley of the Damned and Nightwish. That’s right. It just fucking slipped my mind.

But that was 2002 through 2005. Since then, my former step-dad Art has moved out of the house and a new and improved step-dad named Dale entered my life. Yes, folks, my mom got a HUGE upgrade. Over the years, my mental health has gotten better dramatically. I rediscovered Nightwish in 2006 and fell in love with Tarja Turunen all over again, both musically and romantically (don’t tell her husband I said that).

As for Valley of the Damned, while I don’t role-play much anymore, I do a lot of creative writing in its place. Fireball Nightmare is the new home for Valley of the Damned. So far, so good. It took a long time for everything to click back into place, but it’s all there once again. It’s like a psychological family reunion.

And to think, it all started with “She Is My Sin” from the Wishmaster album. Yes, Tarja, you have been my sin for over a decade now. Anette and Floor, while the two of you haven’t been in my life for nearly as long, you ladies are my sin as well. Nightwish and I will never be separated or divorced ever again. They will continue to excite my imagination and I will continue to recommend them to any of my metal-loving friends.

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“My bath toys were a radio and a toaster.”

-Joan Rivers (rest in peace)-

"Om" by The Moody Blues

It’s easy to create art out of the remains of destruction. Just a few posts ago, I created three new characters based on the internet arguments I had with the members of Play By Web in 2002 and 2004 over age limits: Zeal, Chakko, and Natron (The Undertaker doesn’t count since he’s copyrighted by the WWE). Three new characters are all well and good, but their births don’t change the fact that I still had depression and anger within me. Creativity is a great healing agent, but it doesn’t solve everything.

Music, on the other hand, is a very powerful drug that can be taken with any dosage of creativity. Creativity can be Prozac and music can be Abilify, if you really understand the power of medicine metaphors. In the case of 2002, the song that laid those fiery feelings to rest was “Om” by The Moody Blues. They already have a reputation for being peace-loving, leftwing hippies, but now that “Om” is on the market, they’ve taken it to a whole different level. “Om” is a word yoga masters use whenever they want to achieve a quiet mind through meditation, so it’s not much of a coincidence.

It’s a gorgeous piece of music complete with flutes, bass bongo drums, sitars, and of course, Mike Pinder’s Melotron keyboard (where would an early Moody Blues song be without it?). I’m not sure if it would put me to sleep due to the relaxation, but it definitely put my demons to sleep back in 2002 after the verbal battles were over. I was able to concentrate on my schoolwork and get the good grades I rightfully deserved.

If you have a fiery mind, “Om” by The Moody Blues is the tidal wave that will put out those destructive flames. If nothing else, it reminds us all that life is too short to be pissed off all the time. Metal fans will probably argue against that point since anger is a huge part of that aggressive genre of music. To those people, I argue there’s a huge difference between being psyched up for a metal song and pissed off at the world. When you’re psyched up for a metal song, it’s positive energy that will lead to having a good time. When you’re pissed off at the world, nobody wants to be around you and you will ultimately destroy yourself.

Not every situation calls for grinding, loud, explosive heavy metal. Sometimes you have to take a moment to calm down and assess the situation. Sometimes you have to lock yourself in your bedroom and let peace wash over you like warm Hawaiian beach water. You don’t necessarily have to do the whole “hippie-dippie” meditation routine in order to achieve this moment of peace. All you need is a moment to yourself and a deep look into your thoughts. Thinking is the best way to travel and it’s reiterated in “Om” by The Moody Blues. And once you’re done thinking, you can go back to the real world without unnecessarily spilling blood, especially your own.

　

***WRESTLING QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“People on the internet like to take cheap shots at me, but they’ll never be more critical of me than I am of me.”

-Dave Batista-

Gryace

In the WWE, there’s no shortage of wrestlers with one name: Cesaro, Rusev, Ryback, Stardust, Kane, Fernando, Diego, aw, fuck it, I’ve made my point. While Gryace may not have a future in a real world company, he did have a future once upon a time at Play By Web. Remember Play By Web? The place I got kicked out of? Gryace is one of the characters I’ve salvaged from there.

Gryace was invented during the time where I was transitioning between the usernames Zeal and Undertaker. If you’d like plain English, my character was active while I was arguing with the entire PBW roster over my ability to enjoy porn despite my young age. Naturally, this flamboyant martial artist didn’t get much time to shine.

While I don’t remember the name of the game he was a part of, I can tell you that the game was basically arena combat where magic and creativity were highly encouraged. In fact, the admin of that group specifically said that if anybody had a problem with magic use, those people would be kicked out of the group altogether since closed-mindedness wasn’t allowed.

Gryace didn’t have any magic powers. But he did have martial arts skills that were so powerful and so flashy, even videogames like Street Fighter and Tekken wouldn’t be able to contain him. He didn’t just kick his opponents; he kicked them while doing a hundred summersaults, fifteen tuck-and-rolls, and twenty triple axles. This guy defied gravity with every punch and kick he threw. Maybe he didn’t need a plane ticket to get to his next venue. He could just kick somebody in the ribs in America and end up in Japan in less than a minute.

Because of his ability to tell gravity to go fuck itself and his hard-hitting style in general, Gryace didn’t need magical powers. In fact, if he tried to go Dragon Ball Z on his opponents and throw a Kamehameha wave, he could be an astronaut also in less than a minute. Is there life on other planets? If you give Gryace magic powers, he would be the first to tell you.

How could a young martial artist with a world of potential be so downplayed when it mattered most? Because at the time, I was 16 years old and my writing abilities weren’t nearly as developed as they are now. In order to win any matches in this game, you couldn’t just be a good writer; you had to be a literary badass. While I thought highly of myself and believed in my own abilities at the time, it didn’t mean anyone else agreed with my massive ego. Gryace was destroyed by his magic-wielding opponent in record time. Will we see Gryace again? If I ever have another story where kicking ass is important, you’re damn right you’re going to see him again.

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“Even through the darkest days, this fire burns always.”

-Killswitch Engage singing “This Fire Burns”-

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

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

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

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

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

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

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

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

-Bill Maher-

Gatekeeper Kamala

Before I was permanently banned from Play By Web for not getting along with the admins, I had an RPG on that site called “Here In My Room”, named after the Incubus song from A Crow Left of the Murder. The premise of the game was that a kid would be in his room and all of the sudden he would get sucked into an imaginary world based on one of the items in said room. For example, if the kid had a Pink Floyd the Wall poster, he would probably find himself in an assembly line full of faceless children. If the kid had an NES cartridge of Super Mario Brothers 2, he’d find himself running away from Phanto masks in the desert. Why exactly these kids were going into these imaginary worlds, I’ll never know. I never figured that part out before I was banned. All I knew was that the one person who would guide these kids into their respective worlds was a Grim Reaper-like skeleton named Gatekeeper Kamala. In case you’re wondering, I didn’t take the name Kamala from the WWE legend of the same name. The two Kamalas couldn’t be any more different if one was a Ugandan homophobe and the other was a lesbian nun. Gatekeeper Kamala may have had the appearance of Death, but he was far from lethal. He may fight for his children, but he would never injure the children themselves. He would be the one who provided the children with their respective outfits and weapons as they enter their dangerous worlds. The player who went into the Pink Floyd world was dressed in rock fan clothing and was armed with a magical guitar. The player who went in the Super Mario world was utilizing a feather and a fire flower at the same time (like either of those things would defend him against Phanto). As I write these things down in my word document, I suddenly realize why Gatekeeper Kamala is bringing these children into these fantastical worlds. The real world is a much darker place to be for a teen due to bullying students, mean teachers, and strict parents. Even if the fantasy worlds are dangerous, they’re also places where the child is free to exercise his imagination and be whoever the hell he wants to be. Gatekeeper Kamala may have a deathly appearance, but he will be the one who unlocks the players’ minds. But as I’ve said earlier in this post, I’m no longer a member of Play By Web and I don’t have a long rolodex of friends I can call to play RPG’s with me. For the time being, Gatekeeper Kamala is unemployed. As long as fan fiction laws are in place, he may remain unemployed for a long time due to me possibly being sued for using copyrighted material in my stories. If Kamala is going to find a job in my imagination, it’ll be strictly for shits and giggles. No profits, unfortunately.

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“Started at the age of four. My mother went to the grocery store. Went sneaking through her bedroom door to find something in a size four. Sugar and spice and everything nice wasn’t made only for girls. GI Joe in pantyhose is making room for the one and only. King for a day, princess by dawn. King for a day in a leather thong. King for a day, princess by dawn. Just wait ‘til all the guys get a load of me. My daddy threw me in therapy. He thinks I’m not a real man. Who put the drag in drag queen. Don’t knock it until you tried it.”

-Green Day singing “King for a Day”-

Daniel McBride

As a writer, I draw inspiration from pretty much everything around me. Drawing inspiration from the movie Pulp Fiction as a teenager was probably not the best idea. Don’t get me wrong, Pulp Fiction is a badass movie and Quentin Tarantino will always be remembered for it. It’s just that Quentin Tarantino is really the only person qualified to write anything in his own style. I tried copying his style and it was a fucking disaster. That’s where we get the character Daniel McBride. The reason he’s called that is because I didn’t know at the time of creation there were already people named Danny McBride. I thought I was being original, but it turns out I’m not. You want to know what made Daniel so special? He used racial slurs despite not being a racist. He was first introduced in a Play By Web college RPG as a freshman art major. He got in a rivalry with another kid named Shawn Rawlins because Shawn’s player controlled Daniel’s actions and used him to trip Shawn accidentally. Folks, if you’re ever in an RPG, don’t control anybody’s character but your own. That’s a huge pet peeve of mine. But instead of complaining to the admin of the game, I tried to make lemonade out of lemons. Daniel tried apologizing to Shawn, but Shawn pulled a gun on him and shot him in the leg. Daniel then shouted a whole bunch of KKK jokes at him (Shawn was black) and got beaten up even further for it. That and the wannabe thug stole Daniel’s girlfriend away from him in the process. I can safely say I’ve never been traumatized by an RPG before that moment, so I left for greener pastures. Years later, Daniel McBride became a character in a movie I wrote called Pumping Filter, where his old rivalry with Shawn Rawlins was relived. Pumping Filter had a whole bunch of racial tension with no real reason for it. The way I justified it back then was the whole idea behind insulting someone was to get them angry and nothing made an opponent angry like an attack on their culture. As I got older, I realized that simply using those attacks is enough to be deemed racist and rightfully so. These days, my works don’t resemble Pulp Fiction on steroids. Quentin Tarantino was a staple of the criminal underworld, so he has all the tools he needs to write these kinds of movies. Me? I’m just a suburban white kid who had a generally easy life. But as it stands, Daniel McBride needs a new home, either as a college or high school kid. Maybe this time his martial arts skills will come in handy and he’ll actually win fights. His martial arts skills didn’t work too well in Pumping Filter and that college RPG. Can I really make chicken salad out of chicken shit and turn Daniel McBride into a respectable human being? I hope so, because my imagination is getting to be too lonely for him.

　

***JOKE OF THE DAY***

Q: What grades do racist skinheads get in school?

A: Not C’s.

The McLeod Brothers (Charles and Ivan)

With the way book sales are going these days, not everyone will know the name of Mitch McLeod. If that’s the case, you’ll know even less about his cousins, Charles and Ivan McLeod. When I was still a member of Play By Web in the early 2000’s, Mitch McLeod was the most popular and brutal brawler to ever venture into OTT (Over the Top Wrestling) territory. He did things with weapons that nobody else thought of doing until their brains were swirling into the storm sewer. These days, Mitch McLeod has found employment under the Brawl Mart banner as a rebel within KDW (Keegan Day Wrestling). So where does that leave Charles and Ivan, his cousins? Are they going to follow in Mitch’s footsteps and become great? Do they have it in them to become the greatest tag team ever assembled? Or are these two beefcakes just a couple of dimwits? I’ve considered both routes when deciding what to do with Charles and Ivan. If they were to follow in the successful footsteps of Mitch, they would be a pair of characters that will be admired for generations to come. If on the other hand they started off as moronic slackers, then their transformation into a successful tag team will certainly be more believable. Every main character has to go through some kind of transformation by the time the book’s over, we all know that. That transformation can be anything from learning something new, finding friendship, finding love, or just becoming an overall stronger person. There are even times when the events of a story can make someone bitter and twisted. With that said, maybe the more believable route would be to make Charles and Ivan a pair of dumb-asses who have to learn how to be intelligent businessmen. They certainly will be given the potential to do so no matter what organization they’re a part of. They both weigh 285 lbs., they’re both 6’6”, and their finishing move is a double curb stomp. A single curb stomp is when a wrestler rolls his opponent on his stomach, pulls his arms backwards, places his boot behind the opponent’s head, and stomp him face first into the mat. I first saw Paul Burchill do it in the WWE, so giving this finishing move to a tag team of hulking idiots would seem logical to me. So we have this tag team with million dollar bodies and nickel brains. What kinds of obstacles will they face together? Superior opponents? Corporate oppressiveness? Fan hatred? Road troubles? These are all worthy things to throw in front of Charles and Ivan McLeod. I’ll let you all know what I decide to do with these guys if I ever want to do another Brawl Mart novel or Occupy Wrestling act. Until then, adios, motherfuckers!

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“If you knock up Sarah Palin, Australia is a great place to hide, because then she’ll look for you in Austria.”

-Bill Maher-