Heather Ryan (Jeopardy) X Rey Skywalker (Star Wars): Glasses Are Pretty Fucking Cool, Actually

 

Luke Skywalker vs. Ashley St. Clair: Cringe Culture Must Die

 

Mary Shelley: Matriarch of Science Fiction (Happy International Women's Day!)

 

I know I accidentally made her look like J.K. Rowling, but trust me, that's Mary Shelley. History owes her a debt of gratitude. Everyone else owes J.K. Rowling a middle finger.

Donald Trump's family tree

 

Brainwashed By Television

Swordfights are fun! Fairytale romances are fun! Fairytale romances that happen as a result of swordfighting are fun! Buy this cheeseburger! Buy this appliance! What a splendid pie! Pizza pizza pie! Every minute, every second, buy, buy, buy, buy, buy! You feel hungry yet? If so, what are you hungrier for: a Disney princess or an extra large pepperoni pizza? Having a hard time deciding? Don’t worry, because the television will decide that for you. I can’t speak for the entire population, but I must confess that I’ve been brainwashed by television. It’s not just the juicy bacon double cheeseburgers on screen that capture my imagination. It’s not some random guy saying, “Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop ‘em in your mouth!” when referring to popcorn shrimp. It’s the ultra spicy women. It’s the romantic storylines those women are a part of that make me want it for myself.

The other day, my brother and I were driving home from Wendy’s (as a result of being brainwashed by their commercials). He mentions to me that he has a friend who doesn’t want to be in a relationship with women anymore because it keeps him from doing all the things he wants to do with his life. Disney movies like Aladdin and Snow White will show you the magical side of romance. They’ll show you the heartstrings being pulled, the stars in the lovers’ eyes, the irresistible physical beauty, and the all-important happily ever after. I explained to my brother that the reason I was interested having a relationship for myself is because I was brainwashed by television into believing that. One romantic relationship onscreen is questionable on its own. But when you get hit with that kind of message over and over again for a long period of time, you start to believe it. First it’s Aladdin and Jasmine bonding over their economic statuses. Then it’s Marty Deeks and Kensi Blye from NCIS: Los Angeles bonding over their traumas (because love totally cures everything, right?). I’m not ragging on people who genuinely enjoy romantic storylines. I’m just relating my experiences, that’s all.

You know what those Disney movies don’t tell you about relationships? They’re work. They’re a LOT of work. Basically, you’re responsible for another human being. If you have children together, you’ll be responsible for a LOT of human beings. You have to make compromises and sacrifices in order to keep your partner happy. Your partner has to do the same. Sometimes these sacrifices means scaling back on dreams you’ve previously had, whether it’s world travel, a music career, an acting career, or whatever. Some people can juggle a relationship with their ambitions. Some people can’t and they remain miserable. Where would I fall under those categories? That’s the thing: I wouldn’t know because I’ve only been in two relationships my whole life. One of them was an online romance and the other was casual dating. I’ve never felt like my freedom was limited or even tested in the slightest, but only because it hasn’t had that chance. It’s weird, because I turned down dates left and right in middle school because I thought my individuality was going to be threatened. Would it have been? I don’t know.

So where did we get this idea that romance is the be-all-end-all of life goals? Obviously, we’ve been pounded over the head with this idea from when we were small up until adulthood. But let’s examine this further, shall we? It’s what authors do best. Think about your favorite piece of media, whether it’s a movie, TV show, videogame, book, or otherwise. Ever notice that anytime an attractive woman is featured in those stories, most of the time she’s shoehorned into a relationship with a male character? Take Super Street Fighter II, for example. There are only two female characters in that whole game: a kung fu practitioner named Chun Li and a British Intelligence officer named Cammy White. Both characters are physically attractive and the programmers made extra sure to put them in revealing outfits, Chun Li in a bottomless Chinese dress and Cammy in a thong leotard. When Chun Li is the one who kills M. Bison (the main boss), she goes on to become a “single girl” (at least that’s one of her endings). When Cammy defeats Bison, he reveals to her that they “used to be in love”. The only male characters who are given the romantic treatment are Vega (who’s a narcissistic Spanish ninja) and Ken (a karate master who marries his fiancé Eliza). Vega and Ken aren’t nearly as sexualized as Cammy and Chun Li are, and the latter two are the only females in the game. Draw your own conclusions.

But it’s not just videogames. It’s any kind of media you can think of. The original Star Wars movies feature Princess Leia in a golden bikini. Also, she has a romantic storyline with Han Solo. Coincidence? Sure, why not? WWE is notorious for doing romantic storylines with their attractive female roster. As I’m writing this, there’s sexual tension between Buddy Murphy and Aalyah Mysterio (Rey’s daughter). Why did they decide this? Who knows? What about NCIS? Ziva David is an Israeli assassin who joins the team. She’s also an attractive female who’s got a slow burn going on with a male cohort, Tony DiNozzo. Why is this happening? Why is this spread across virtually all media? Why do some of these characters have to be shoehorned together? Sometimes the chemistry is there and it makes for a good storyline. But not all the time. Sometimes you’ve got Kickboxer: Vengeance. Sometimes you’ve got Fifty Shades of Grey. Sometimes you’ve got…(gulp)…365 Days, where the lead female is being held hostage by the lead male and is given that amount of time to fall in love with him. Romanticizing Stockholm Syndrome! Yum! Ugh…

I get that romance is a part of life. I get that it makes for good media. I get that people have ambitions to be a wife or a husband, a mother or a father. I’m not knocking anybody who believes in these dreams. To each their own. But for me personally, the reason I want a romance for myself is because I’ve been brainwashed by TV. If I think about it, there’s no reason why my personality will mesh well with a Cammy White or a Ziva David. There’s no reason why any You Tuber would want to travel X number of miles just to hook up with me. I say these things not to whine or complain. I say them because realistically, it’s true. Or to paraphrase a line from George Costanza, “Three hundred pound men with no job, no car, and who live with their parents don’t approach strange women.” I hate even saying that, because I can always point to characters like Otis from the WWE and Aladdin from the Disney movies as examples of men who break barriers to get the beautiful girl. It can happen. But not always. It’s not a surefire outcome. I’ve been beaten over the head with romance so many times in my life that I once believed that there’s someone for everyone. Who’s out there for me? Is she American? Is she Icelandic? Is she Russian? And if I do find this person, how long will she last with me before I annoy the piss out of her? There’s no such thing as job security when it comes to the role of a boyfriend or girlfriend.

But I can still dream. As a matter of fact, I do dream. All the time. I have a very active imagination whenever I’m given alone time. You know what I do with that imagination? I fantasize about resting my head on a woman’s lap while she plays with my hair and says sweet things to me. Who is this woman? It could be a You Tube crush. It could be a celebrity crush. It could be a musical crush. Why do I think about doing this with any of my crushes? Because they did it on an episode of Millennium called “A Room with No View”, though that could hardly be called romantic. Lucy Butler, a demonic seductress, holds one of her captives’ head in her lap and she cuddles with him while giving him kisses and talking sweetly to him. That’s right. I based a romantic fantasy off of a television show about serial killers. If that’s not brainwashing my television, I don’t know what the fuck is. If you’ve seen that episode and are suffering from Stockholm Syndrome yourself, you know why.

I guess the moral of the story is to do your research on what you want before you commit to it. That can apply to romance, but it can also apply to other aspects in life whether it’s a travel destination, a job, a hobby, or a concert to name a few. Only you can decide what’s right and what’s wrong for yourself. Only you can make decisions with your life going forward. If you want a relationship, that’s great. If not, that’s great too. What do I want? I’ll figure it out as soon as I undo my brainwashing by television.

Why I Don't Believe in Aliens

I don’t want it to seem like I’m breaking a longstanding oath to the Jedi order, because in order to do that, I’d have to acknowledge the slim possibility of Jedi knights being real. I’d have to watch Star Wars and Star Trek like they’re documentaries. I’d have to play Starcraft like I’m reviving Kriegspiel. These things that I’ve mentioned are labeled as science-fiction, keyword there being fiction. If they were nonfiction, our world would be fucked, even more so than it is now in the year 2020 with Corona Virus and governmental tyranny. Okay, so we MIGHT have a Jabba the Hutt look-alike in the oval office right now, but that’s as close to admitting the realness of aliens that you will get from me. That’s right. I can’t believe I have to say this, but I’m going to anyways. My name is Garrison…and I don’t believe in aliens. Never have, never will.

Aliens do make for some interesting creative fuel, I’ll admit. I played the hell out of Starcraft from 2000 to 2001. I slashed the shit out of everyone with the Protoss zealots’ photon blades. I ate space marines alive with the Zerg’s blade-fanged Ultralisk creature. Every piece of fiction I’ve ever written during that time period was basically Starcraft thievery, which I would get defensive about because I didn’t want to get stuck in a frivolous copyright lawsuit. But let’s be real: Zerglings, Ultralisks, Hydralisks, Protoss dragoons, Protoss carriers, Protoss templars, they can only be enjoyed on a fictional basis. If these biological monstrosities existed in the real world, they would ransack the shit out of earth and we’d be completely defenseless. How’s that Space Force working out for you, Mr. President?

I know I’m going to hear the argument somewhere down the line, “Well, Garrison, are you so arrogant that you believe earthlings are the only ones who exist in the universe?” Until I see otherwise, yes, I am. Where are all these lizard people that I keep hearing about? Where are the goopy Martians with their slime-covered bodies and bug eyes? When is Darth Vader going to destroy the world with his Death Star? I don’t see any of these things. I don’t pick up on them with my other senses either. If I can’t sense them in any way, I’m not going to believe in them just because there’s a small chance they MIGHT exist outside of the Milky Way.

I treat extraterrestrial life with the same amount of skepticism that I do religious deities, which is to say I’m an atheist through and through. If I don’t believe God, Allah, or Shiva exist, why would I suddenly believe that aliens exist? Religion and alien culture have the same amount of proof to convince me, which is to say none at all. This is just my take on it, though. If other people want to practice religion or believe in wacky ideas, I’m not going to try and stop them. Me personally? I refuse to believe in something I have no proof exists. And as long as we’re crossing gods and aliens off the list, where’s all the zeal for other fantasy and sci-fi creatures? What about ogres? What about goblins? Or elves? Or dragons? Or big ass tarantulas? How come the people who put so much stock into aliens don’t believe in those things as well? “Are you so arrogant that you believe elves don’t share this world with us?”

Like I said before: aliens should be treated as fictional characters in enjoyable science-fiction. They should not influence politics on any level. We should not have radio show hosts and podcasters spouting conspiracy theories about aliens poisoning our drinking water or shoving rods up our asses. We shouldn’t have conspiracy theories about anything else as well, whether it’s Obama being from Kenya, the earth being flat, pizza shops being safe havens for pedophiles, or COVID-19 being a hoax designed to derail conservatives. The silliness alone seems harmless and can even be explored in filmmaking or story writing, but the minute people start dying in the real world over them, that’s when I have a problem. Hundreds of thousands of people have died from COVID-19 because the public and its politicians aren’t taking it seriously. What does this have to do with aliens? I don’t know, but I bet their existence could be shoehorned into these theories to gain political leverage. It’s happened before and it’ll happen again.

You know what I really love about alien culture? This idea of anal probing, which was made popular by that season one episode of South Park where Cartman gets a metal rod shoved up his ass. Later in the episode, the rod expands into a satellite dish that communicates with extraterrestrials. Please tell me you don’t think South Park is nonfiction. Just laugh at the comedy. Don’t take it too seriously. Matt Stone and Trey Parker, the creators of the show, don’t take life too seriously and they would encourage their audience to follow suit. Nobody’s going to shove a glowing metal rod up your ass. If they do, you’re probably stuck in a BDSM dungeon. Or the pawn shop from Pulp Fiction, one of the two.

I know I’m ranting and raving over here, but I actually have a message to go along with this aggression. If you’re going to believe in something, don’t use that as an excuse to hurt others. You can believe in Jesus all you want, but don’t beat up LGBT members because of it. You can believe in aliens all you want, but don’t use that as an excuse to influence world politics and radicalize already unstable people. Do whatever you want to do as long as it doesn’t hurt anybody else.

Nobody will mind if you watch Star Trek: the Original Series and be blown away by the philosophical nature of it. Nobody will mind if you enjoyed all nine episodes of Star Wars instead of just episodes four through six. Nobody will mind if you play Starcraft until your ass is sore from sitting for so long (and not because the Protoss shoved a photon rod up your anus). If we could all just agree to get along and not hurt each other, the world would be a better place. Write that sci-fi novel. Write that lizard man movie script. Put together a videogame about venomous blobs of goo from Jupiter and Saturn. Do what Nickelback did in the song “Million Miles an Hour” and travel through the galaxy after taking that “everlasting pill”. Do what you want and don’t be a dick!

If you have anything you want to add to this conversation, speak now before the UFO comes to my house and pulls me onboard with their tractor beam! Ooo, I know! Why do UFO’s have to be circular disks? Why can’t they be any other shape? How about a cylinder? How about a trapezoid? How about a pyramid? Imagine a pyramid-shaped vessel that could spin in circles like a drill and mine our precious resources from the depths of the planet. Now that’s a hell of a novel prompt! Don’t worry, I’m not trying to stir shit up and make you even more paranoid than you already are. But just imagine the possibilities of a spinning pyramid ship helmed by elven warlocks and dragon necromancers. Imagine that they’re harvesting our oil to fuel an even greater weapon to use against the ogre and Protoss alliance, crushing their oppressors once and for all! Now there’re no excuses for a blank page!

Whoppers

You like to jerk it off to The Human Centipede

Shake your ass to Green Day’s “Know Your Enemy”

Give lap dances at your local retirement home

Knickknack, paddywack, eat your doggie’s bone

What’s the matter? You don’t like being defamed?

Don’t like shouldering someone else’s blame?

I heard that before, in fact, a million times over

Welcome to the world and its New World Odor

For every double whopper you’ve got about me

I’ve got a thousand more on you, bless creativity

You burglarize houses with a Darth Vader mask

“Use the force” and those who can’t even ask

But your light saber is the size of a toothpick

When it’s time to get it on, you’re fucking useless

You made a donation to the Humane Society

But it was criminal restitution for being rapey

You had to sell your collection of celebrity condoms

To make up for the debt and cut your own losses

Let’s upgrade that double whopper to a size triple

You get your cereal’s milk from your grandma’s nipple

Let’s go quadruple on your heart attack whopper

Or is this where you finally call the crime stoppers?

I wish I had that option when you lied about me

Freedom of speech has never been completely free

Maybe I’ll get you a ball gag for Christmas this year

Stick it in your mouth until the truth is loud and clear

I’ll get you some handcuffs for a stocking stuffer

No access to your keyboard, you’re grounded by mother

I know this all sounds a little creepy and kinky

But it keeps your bullshit from getting too stinky

"What I'm Not" Officially Canceled

***”WHAT I’M NOT” OFFICIALLY CANCELED***

It’s not often than I scrub a piece of creative writing I did off the face of the internet. The last time I did it was in 2014 with a PG-13 erotica short story called Tainted Love. Six days after my 29^th birthday, this stinker managed to piss off the entire world with the way I objectified the lone female character and glorified her Stockholm Syndrome. I own that black eye on my track record and promise never to do those horrible things again. So what could I have possibly written this time that would deserve such a thorough cleansing from the web? I’ll tell you what it was: the first and final episode of What I’m Not.

I’ve had the idea for What I’m Not for as long as I’ve been fantasizing about having a You Tube channel. Many of my closest friends encouraged me to do my own You Tube project and I’ve been hesitant to give it a try, for fear that the ungodly amount of stress would send me into a schizophrenic hell all over again. But let’s say for instance that I had the guts to bare my soul to the world in front of a phone camera. What I’m Not was supposed to be a vlog series detailing all of my worst mistakes as a semi-professional author. In other words, it was a cautionary tale to rookies to not fuck up as badly as I did. I made the mistakes so nobody else would have to.

In theory, this would actually be a good idea. I don’t have much in the way of writing expertise except for what not to do. I still can’t craft a 3D character worth a damn. I still don’t know what the fuck a “character-driven story” is. What I’m Not would have been a comedic and lighthearted look into my worst decisions. So when I wrote the first episode, which was about admitting unemployment to strangers, audience members, and bosses, I decided to have a little fun and pepper in some jokes here and there. I was so excited to have this episode written that I didn’t even proofread the damn thing before posting it. That in and of itself would have made a fine idea for a What I’m Not episode.

When I finally read what I had written (twice), I was frozen with horror. There’s no way in hell writing this awful could have come from my imagination. I’m not even talking about first draft standards, because let’s face it, all first drafts by their very nature suck. This episode was by far, no exaggeration, the WORST thing I had ever written. It was so bad, in fact, that I scrubbed it from the internet before it had the chance to be critiqued. At least with the first draft of Beautiful Monster, it had potential despite the glaring flaws in the way I handled the subject of rape. At least with the first draft of Silent Warrior, it was…well…something! This episode of What I’m Not was a disaster from the get-go. It had no such potential. My big fat ass cat Oswald could have written a better episode than this and all he does is lie around and piss himself while waiting to die.

The tone of this episode could only be described as a whiny rant. I whined about my job hunting past. I whined about classism in dating. I ranted against people who were just trying to be nice and make small talk with me. All of this was supposed to be done in a comedic tone, but trust me when I say there was nothing funny about what I had written. A burning orphanage is funnier than this. Childhood cancer is funnier than the garbage I had written. Lily Singh’s “comedy” is funnier than…eh, you get the point by now. Wouldn’t want this blog entry to be a whining mess either, so I’ll quit while I’m ahead.

After I had wiped this episode from my social media pages and taken a few deep breaths to chill my anxiety, I questioned whether or not future episodes of What I’m Not would be just as bad as this one was. Fearing the answer might be an emphatic “fuck yes”, I decided going forward that the What I’m Not series had to be permanently canceled. I’m sure there’s a market for advice on what not to do as a writer, but I’m not the salesman. Not anymore. But did these episodes have to be funny? In my mind, they did, because that was the only thing they had going for them. If I tried to make the episodes serious, it would have sounded even whinier than before.

While my social media accounts have a small audience, You Tube would have had a lot more eyes on it. Can you imagine if I translated my writing into a video and a gajillion people saw it? I consider myself fortunate that I can toe the line between a private citizen and an internet personality. This is not a microscope I want to find myself under. This is not a hill I want to die on. If I ever decide to do a nonfiction series again, I’ll need a different topic and it’ll have to be a topic that doesn’t require a comedic edge. I can be funny from time to time, but not all the time. I don’t have the charisma to keep my funny streak going forever and ever. Drama is much easier than comedy, but whining will not be tolerated.

Will I ever create a You Tube channel given that What I’m Not turned out to be a dud? I think I’m more comfortable writing my nonfiction out instead of being in front of a camera. Yes, I know that staying in the comfort zone is supposed to be a bad thing, but then again, so is falling so badly on my ass that I can’t recover. My You Tube audience wouldn’t have let me hear the end of it. At least on Deviant Art, Good Reads, and Blogger, I don’t have to worry about supreme failure, because the audience for those platforms is smaller. But a small audience won’t bring me a great deal of success. Then again, success doesn’t always amount to fame and fortune. Everyone’s idea of success is different and sometimes it doesn’t mean being glared at under the world’s most powerful electron microscope.

If this blog entry sounds too whiny to keep my message consistent, I apologize profusely. I don’t know who was really looking forward to the What I’m Not series, but it’s been officially canceled as of now. My main priorities at the moment will be editing Beautiful Monster, reading my books, drawing my pictures, and watching my movies. Drawing and movie watching in particular are both excellent ways to get away from the writing grind and restore some of my lost energy. Sure, I write reviews for every movie I watch (Star Wars Episodes VII-IX be damned), but at least I have the energy to do those by the time the movie is over. Funny how that works out. As far as Beautiful Monster is concerned, I still have chapter seven staring me in the face, but that’s okay because it’s not a time sensitive project. Editing jobs aren’t supposed to be. Slow and steady wins the race. I’m Garrison Kelly! Until next time, try to enjoy the daylight!

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“I want to go home, take off this uniform, and leave the show. But I’m waiting in this cell, because I have to know: have I been guilty all this time?”

-Pink Floyd singing “Stop”-

Higher Ground X System of a Down: Prison Song

***HIGHER GROUND X SYSTEM OF A DOWN: PRISON SONG***

Two years ago, I went down a research rabbit hole and found an episode of Millennium called “A Room with No View”. It was that episode plus an Otherwise song that was the launching point for a novel I’m currently editing called “Beautiful Monster”. Two years later, I went down another research rabbit hole and found a TV show that could very well tell Millennium to hold their beers. Take my hand; we’re going on a journey today!

It all began with a Star Wars meme that I got curious about: Anakin Skywalker saying “I don’t like sand.” He complains about how coarse and rough it is and then tells his wife Padme that unlike sand, she’s smooth and soft. It’s easy to blame Hayden Christiansen for that hokey delivery, but to be fair to him, nobody could make that dialogue sound good. Not Samuel L. Jackson. Not Michael Chiklis. Not Walton Goggins. And sure as shit not Hayden Christiansen.

So one thing led to another and I went to Hayden Christiansen’s Wikipedia page. Sure enough, one of the roles he’s famous for was Scott Barringer in the 2000 teen drama Higher Ground. And in this 2000 teen drama, Scott was a star athlete and one hell of a piano player. And then his parents divorced and his father got remarried to a woman named Elaine, who was closer to Scott’s age. Elaine started sexually abusing Scott to where his trauma could only be numbed with drugs and alcohol. His addictions got so bad that he was sent away to a “therapy school” to deal with his problems, never once addressing the root of it all, Elaine raping him.

Now, I’ve never actually watched a single episode of this show. I wouldn’t know where to start looking for it. But I saw the phrase “therapy school” and wondered just what that entailed. So the rabbit hole continues. Turns out there’s no therapy to be found in these places. Therapy school is just a PC term for “child prison”. Of course, if they started calling themselves child prisons, you know how many parents would fork over their children to them? Lots of them, because Scott’s parents don’t have any fucking principles. If they did, there would be no sexual assault and therefore no TV show.

But what exactly goes on in a “therapy school” a.k.a. “child prison”? Well, the reason why I’m calling it a prison is because therapy schools have a lot in common with establishments that openly admit to being prisons. You can’t leave whenever you’d like, you lose all of your constitutional rights, the overseers beat your ass and scream at you for no reason, and your individuality is long gone, never to be seen again. I’m not sure if this actually goes on in Higher Ground, but from what I’ve researched about therapy schools, it’s probably a safe bet. Oh, and one more thing: therapy schools get richer by keeping kids locked up and abused. They’re for-profit, just like real prisons.

One of the many behavioral modification exercises the therapy schools like to push on their patients, I mean, inmates is…wilderness training. It’s basically survivalism and it doesn’t actually cure bad behavior. You know what the counselors, I mean, prison guards really like about wilderness therapy? No cameras. No witness. Not a goddamn thing for miles. The prison guards already get away with abuse on a regular basis, but out in the wilderness, they’ve got that extra insurance.

You know what else they like to do? Hire “teen escort services”. That already sounds suspicious because the word “escort” is associated with the GFE (Girlfriend Experience). Putting the word “teen” next to it doesn’t sound any better. But that’s not where this story ends. A teen escort service is where a bunch of guys kidnap the child in the middle of the night and forcibly bring him or her to the therapy school. No due process, no right to legal representation, just a traumatic experience that will haunt the kids forever and ever. How the fuck is this legal?!

You’d think with all these ass beatings and traumatizing scream sessions going on, somebody would step in and shut down these child prisons or at least try to sue the shit out of them for millions of dollars. But this is America; capitalism and the almighty dollar come first. Therapy schools, just like for-profit prisons, are a business and business is booming. Besides, with all the money they make, they could very easily win a court case against them with the best lawyers money can buy. If suing prisons was really that easy…well, you get the picture by now.

So…in the same way that Beautiful Monster was a throwback to Millennium, its potential sequel, Prison Song, will be a throwback to Higher Ground. I haven’t figured out the exact circumstances of the therapy schools nor have I outlined the damn story. Shit, I’ve only edited three chapters of Beautiful Monster thus far, so I don’t have a clear picture of what these new changes will do for the sequel. But just like Beautiful Monster, Prison Song will be named after an actual piece of music, that being Prison Song by System of a Down. You want some lyrics? You want some protest music? Here you go:

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“They’re trying to build a prison. Following the rights movements, you clamped down with your iron fists. Drugs became conveniently available for all the kids. Well, I buy my crack, I smack my bitch right here in Hollywood. Nearly two million people are incarcerated in the prison system in the US. They’re trying to build a prison for you and me to live in. Another prison system for you and me. Minor drug offenders fill your prisons, you don’t even flinch. All our taxes paying for your wars against the new non-rich. Well, I buy my crack, I smack my bitch right here in Hollywood. The percentage of Americans in the prison system has doubled since 1985. They’re trying to build a prison for you and me to live in. Another prison system for you and me. All research and successful drug policies show that treatment should be increased and law enforcement decreased while abolishing mandatory minimum sentences. Utilizing drugs to pay for secret wars around the world. Drugs are now your global policy, now you police the globe. Well, I buy my crack, I smack my bitch right here in Hollywood. Drug money is used to rig elections and train brutal corporate-sponsored dictators around the world. They’re trying to build a prison for you and me to live in. Another prison system for you and me.”

-System of a Down singing “Prison Song”-

Old Stories, New Genres

***OLD STORIES, NEW GENRES***

Ever since watching and reviewing Jackie Brown and The Hateful Eight, I made it my mission to do the same thing for all of Quentin Tarantino’s movies. One of those movies I plan on watching happens to be Django Unchained. You’ve already heard the name Quentin Tarantino and are probably expecting some controversy to come with these movies. You wouldn’t be wrong no matter what the movie was, but it’s especially true for Django Unchained. Fellow director Spike Lee vowed not to watch it, because, “Slavery was not a spaghetti western. It was a holocaust.” Nobody in their right mind would ever dispute how horrible black slavery was. But that’s not why we’re gathered here today, my dearly beloveds.

Looking at old stories through the lens of a new genre happens to be what most successful storytellers do for a living. In the case of Django Unchained, Quentin Tarantino did indeed turn slavery into a spaghetti western. Ever since watching The Hateful Eight (which is definitely a western, but I’m not sure if it’s a spaghetti western), I’ve had a weird fascination with the genre. Hell, a few weeks ago, I wrote a southern metal song called Spaghetti Western, which you can check out on all of my social media pages (Blogger, Deviant Art, Face Book, and Good Reads). Cheap plug aside, Quentin Tarantino meant no ill will when he made Django Unchained. He gets a lot of heat for being insensitive, but the movies he directs take place in times and locations where insensitivity was the norm. Even in modern day dramas, he has characters using racial slurs, because it’s realistic of their characters, not because he’s a bigoted jerk.

But Quentin Tarantino movies are just one example of what I’m talking about today. Remember all of the talk about SJW’s “ruining” the Star Wars franchise? Well, I hate to break it to you guys, but Star Wars was always about social justice. It’s literally about rebels fighting against a totalitarian government. There are many instances of that happening all throughout history. Star Wars just happened to look at those moments through a science fiction lens with cool light saber battles and Storm Troopers who can’t shoot straight. It was true for A New Hope (which came out in the late 70’s) and it’s still true today. The message hasn’t changed. The complaints have.

And just to show you guys how serious I am about this brand of creative fuel, if any of you know anything horrible about my past and want to look at those life moments through the lens of a new genre, I’d be thrilled to read what you’ve got. You know something about me being bullied in my freshman year of high school? Let’s turn that shit into an epic fantasy! I wouldn’t mind fighting against orc and ogre bullies with a battleaxe or a claymore. What about the time I first started having schizophrenic symptoms? Let’s turn it into…whatever the hell The Matrix is! Hell, I was probably living in The Matrix the whole time I was hallucinating. What about the time I got suspended from college for writing an angry poem about my geology teacher? Is there any way to turn that into wrestling fiction? A spaghetti western? A space opera? Cyberpunk? Actually, cyberpunk would be closer to the truth since I was dumb enough back then to post my poem on the internet.

I understand that Spike Lee is proud of his heritage as well he should be. He should fight for the greater good. He should be an inspiration to all. But picking fights with Quentin Tarantino when he hasn’t even seen the damn movie? Not cool. That won’t help his image in the slightest. Like I said before, I haven’t watched Django Unchained yet, but I desperately want to as part of my quest to fairly review all of Quentin Tarantino’s movies. The key word in that last sentence was fairly, as in I want to give them a chance before I harshly judge them. Does he constantly lay golden eggs? No. Are there parts of his movies worth criticizing? Absolutely. But I can’t make those criticisms until after I see the movie. Even if I DNF the damn thing somewhere in the middle, that’s better than jumping to conclusions any day of the week.

What about you guys? Are there any old stories you want to see through a new genre? Should the Final Fight franchise be told through prehistoric times? Should the Star Wars franchise be told through medieval fantasy? Me personally, I’ve always wanted to see the Gundam franchise get a medieval fantasy reboot. One of the giant robots could be a paladin. Two of them could be smaller robots piloted by goblin twins. Space travel would still be possible and goddamn, does that open up a whole universe of possibilities with storylines and creative fuel. Yes, this was a real idea I had back in my teens. I never followed through on it, because…reasons? Now that I think about it, I’d still like to try this idea out someday, but I can’t use the word Gundam unless I want the copyright whores to strangle my ass in court. But what about you guys? Got any genre remixes you’d like to see?

I’m Garrison Kelly! Until next time, try to enjoy the daylight! Hey, there’s another idea! I could retell Tales From the Dark Side episodes through a medieval fantasy lens! Maybe for once it wouldn’t be so fucking hokey that way! Woo-hoo! Yeah!

***BEAUTIFUL MONSTER***

So…I haven’t been very faithful with updates from this novella I’m working on, so here goes nothing. I finished the most recent rewrite back in July, but I didn’t pay for Hollow Hills to critique it until early November. I got my critiques back at the beginning of December. Goddamn, do I have a lot of work ahead of me. The world needs to be fleshed out, the battle and sex scenes need to be toned down, and most importantly…the protagonists have to STOP CRYING ALL THE FUCKING TIME! Okay, Marie Krepps didn’t put it in those words. Plus, I’m prone to exaggeration. But the sentiment is the same. I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me before Beautiful Monster is ready for the public. I don’t have a due date for when it’ll be officially published. I thought it would have been this year, but I was too optimistic. And if you think I’ve got a lot to do for Beautiful Monster, just remember…I still have Emilio & Marigold in the chamber!

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“Who do you think you are? You’ve now gone much too far. Out of the ashes a clear light will shine. A power like the sun, but the heat is all mine. Blinding to all those too close to the light. I’ll bury your souls in the dark of the night. Underground you’ll make no sound. Got nowhere left to go. Things begin, but then they end. The truth it hurts to know. I watch with wonder as you go under. Words to the unwise. The story’s ending and I’m attending the scene of your demise. I bring the darkness. I am the thunder. I come from Hell and I’ll pull you under. I’ll make you feel the wrath of my ways. I’ll make it real. I’ll be your end of days.”

-Baron Corbin’s WWE Theme Music-

***POST-SCRIPT***

Don’t let the lyrics fool you. I’m still abstaining from watching WWE due to their awful programming and I’m not regretting it. Last week on Friday Night Smackdown, Baron Corbin smothered Roman Reigns in dog food. Get it? Because Roman Reigns calls himself The Big Dog? Woof, woof? Hahahahaha…haha…ha…Fuck this company.

Characters Going to the Bathroom

***CHARACTERS GOING TO THE BATHROOM***

When I was little enough to think that piss and shit were funny, I watched movies and TV shows with one burning question in mind: “Why don’t these characters ever go to the bathroom?” Or a more appropriate question for my age group would have been, “Why don’t these characters ever make pee-pee and doo-doo?” This question would continue to burn like an asshole after eating too many spicy wings, something I have too much experience with. It’s true, though, even after all these years of maturing (somewhat): characters never seem to have to go to the bathroom even after eating questionable food. You know why? Because nobody wants to see it, that’s why!

It’s like George Carlin once said: “I’ve never really understood it nor have I really cared for it.”

“I’m going to the bathroom to take a shit.”

“NEVER MIND! Do what you have to do in the bathroom and leave me out of it! And don’t describe it when you come back!”

“Boy, you should have seen it…”

“NEVER MIND!”

“It set off the smoke alarm.”

“NEVER MIND!”

If a character is going to make pee-pee and doo-doo, there better be a plot-related reason for it. Sure, constantly visiting the john would make for realistic storytelling, but not necessarily good storytelling. For instance, let’s say in my rewritten novel Beautiful Monster, Shelly had Windham shackled to her bed and suddenly had the urge to take a wee-wee tinkle. Let’s say she drank too many of her signature milkshakes, without the sedative drugs, of course. How exactly would her urinary needs be met in a way that moves the plot along quicker than her digestive system moves things along? Let’s say she relieves herself over Windham’s face like a Russian prostitute. Does this help the story? No, it doesn’t. Does it turn the reader off and not take Shelly seriously as a femme fatale? Absolutely!

I can only think of a handful of times where bathroom trips helped advance the story along without being disgusting as fuck (most of the time). Quentin Tarantino used bathroom trips as a plot device for Pulp Fiction at least three different times. Vincent had to go to the bathroom when he took Mia Wallace home, leaving her all alone to OD. Had he not gone to the bathroom, the overdosing could have been prevented and therefore, there’d be no infamous scene where Vincent stabs Mia in the chest with an adrenaline boost. Vincent also happens to be on the toilet when Butch goes back to his apartment to get his father’s watch. Had Vincent not been in the bathroom, he would have killed Butch and there’d be no infamous dungeon scene later on. And finally, Vincent goes to the bathroom during the restaurant robbery scene. Had he stayed at his table, he would have thwarted the robbery and Jules wouldn’t have his come to Jesus moment of clarity.

Another example of bathroom plot devices being used to full effect comes from Tales From the Hood. No, I’m not referring to any scene where Crazy K shits himself on the spinning table, because that never happened. I’m talking about the first story, which deals with racist cops. One of the cops urinates on a civil rights activist’s grave. Had he not done that, the zombie wouldn’t have risen from the grave to rip the cop in half and therefore, there’d be no comeuppance for the rest of the cops.

In short, the whole reason why you never see characters going to the bathroom at inconvenient times is because nobody wants to see it. Nobody wants to see Gimley from Lord of the Rings taking a massive dump nor do they want to smell it. Nobody wants to see WWE wrestlers have accidents in the ring, which has happened before, regrettably. Stone Cold Steve Austin once shit his trunks while getting body slammed by Yokozuna in a match in South Africa. Good thing his trunks were black.

Are you sick and tired of all of this middle school toilet humor? If so, you’ve just confirmed your own reason why you don’t want to see toilet breaks in movies and TV shows unless they serve a bigger purpose. Rarely does it serve that bigger purpose, though. If bathroom breaks were as random and haphazard as they were in real life, it would border on Deus Ex Machina storytelling and that’s a big no-no. Suppose Darth Vader had food poisoning at Taco Bell right before his light saber fight with Luke Skywalker in The Empire Strikes Back. If Vader went to the bathroom, Luke could get an easy kill and wouldn’t lose his hand nor learn that Vader is his father.

I feel disgusted for having written this blog entry, but it’s a topic that I’m sure was on everybody’s mind at some point in life, whether in middle school or adulthood. We’ve all thought it, but we’ve never actually dug deeper into the question. Maybe it’s best that we haven’t. Maybe this controversy should be put to bed once and for all. I’m Garrison Kelly! Until next time, try to enjoy the daylight!

***SONG DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

NURSE: Excuse me, doctor? Do you have a moment?

DOCTOR: A moment? What’s the question?

NURSE: More like a situation. A gentleman in exam three.

DOCTOR: What’s the problem?

NURSE: That is the problem: we’re not sure.

DOCTOR: Do you have the chart?

NURSE: Right here.

DOCTOR: Hmm…not much here, is there.

NURSE: No, doctor. No obvious physical trauma and vitals are stable.

DOCTOR: A name?

NURSE: No, sir.

DOCTOR: Did somebody drop him off? Maybe we can speak to them. Let’s get some background on this fellow.

NURSE: No ID. Nothing. He won’t speak to anyone.

DOCTOR: Well, let’s go and say hello.

PATIENT:…

DOCTOR: Good morning, I’m Doctor Lawson. How are you today?

PATIENT:…

DOCTOR: How are you today?

PATIENT:…

DOCTOR: Look son, you’re in a safe place. We want to help you in whatever way we can, but you need to talk to us. We can’t help you otherwise. So what happened? Tell me everything.

-“Lost Keys (Blame Hofmann)” by Tool-

No Singular Goal

***NO SINGULAR GOAL***

I’ve been writing novels and short stories for a long fucking time, yet I only noticed today how almost none of my novels have singular goals within the plot. Instead the main characters accomplish smaller goals on the way to a climax that may or may not be part of the linear structure. It’s weird. There are singular goals in other stories, but not mine. In Harry Potter, the goal is to kill Voldemort. In Star Wars, it’s to kill Darth Vader and destabilize the empire. In Lord of the Rings, it’s to destroy a powerful ring by dropping it into a river of lava. In Silent Warrior, the main goal is to…um…In Beautiful Monster, Windham Xavier wants to…uh…heh…In Incelbordination…Oswald Crow wants to…oh, I give up!

Okay, let’s use Incelbordination as an example. At the beginning of the story, Oswald Crow wants a girlfriend, or to at least have sex for the very first time. But then he meets Antero Magnus and wants to rage against the world. Then he sees how coo-coo his followers are and wants to bring Antero to justice. And then once that’s out of the way, he wants to sort out his life and find a real girlfriend again, which he doesn’t do. Does this seem like a cluster fuck to you? I’m sure it does. But we’re just getting warmed up!

For the sake of argument, when I refer to Beautiful Monster, I’ll only refer to the god-awful drive-by abortion first draft, not the rewrite I’m currently working on. Windham Xavier goes on a mission to spy on Shelly Atwood. Then he wants to get away from her. Then he wants to make sweet monkey love to Tarja Rikkinen for no damn reason. Then he wants to keep his job at the formerly known Paladin Cross. Then he wants to kill Orpheus Rinehart. Then he wants to survive and start a new life with Tarja. And then…reasons?

Still not convinced of how crazy my plot structures are? Let’s do the same thing for Silent Warrior. Scott George wants to stop having traumatic visions. Then he wants to stick it to his history teacher. Then he wants to fuck the history teacher’s daughter. Then he wants to get out of jail. Then he wants to graduate high school. Then he wants to be a psychological counselor at his high school. And then he wants to…he, uh…UGH!

These plots would all sound chaotic to any sane reader. Windham Xavier, Scott George, and Oswald Crow have no singular goals that define the entire story. They’re just playing in by ear and changing their minds as new events take place. Are there a whole lot of stories out there with this kind of narrative? I’ll try to think of a few.

In A Christmas Story, Ralph wants to get a BB rifle for Christmas. Then he wants to get an A++++++ on his essay. Then he wants to decode Little Orphan Annie’s message. Then he wants to beat the shit out of Scut Farkus. Then he wants to eat dinner at a Chinese restaurant after the Christmas turkey is ruined by the Bumpus’s dogs. And then once he shoots his eye out, he wants to…he wants to…he, uh…DAH!

In Pink Floyd the Wall, Pink wants to survive life without a father. Then he wants to stick it to his Scottish teacher. Then he wants to grow up and be a rock star. Then he wants to get married. Then he wants to shut everybody out. Then he wants to have a pseudo Nazi rally and then put himself on trial when things get out of control. And then he wants to…uh…Jesus…UGH!

I’m sure there are other examples of chaotic storytelling out there, but I can’t think of anything beyond those two I just gave. Truth be told, I’m not even sure if refusing to have a singular goal in mind is the right or wrong thing to do. I suppose a case could be made that these stories of mine are slices of life, where random occurrences and constant changes of opinion are part of reality.

Think about it for a minute. Does anybody’s life really have a singular goal? And if so, what do they do when it’s achieved? Does their story end right there? Do they live the rest of their lives riding out this goal or do they miraculously have a heart attack and die at the story’s conclusion?  Life is full of twists and turns. It’s not a linear path despite what these other stories tell you. If it was a linear path, the ending would be too easy to predict. But this is just my opinion and I could be missing something here.

I’d like to think that a story’s unpredictability lies within the hows, not the whats. Yes, we know the good guys will win in the end. But if you want to know how they survive these insurmountable odds, you have to read the whole fucking thing. But what if the ending is negative? Again, it’s all about the hows. How did the hero fuck it up that badly and how does life go on now that he’s no longer a factor? With a chaotic plot, you don’t have to worry about these things too much because you don’t know what to expect. You’re looking for the whats AND the hows. But again, this is just my opinion and if someone wants to prove me wrong, I’ll give you all the chances you need to do so. I could be wrong and I wouldn’t even know it until someone told me.

Are there any other examples of chaotic storytelling that I’m missing? They do exist, I’m sure, but most of my media intake comes from linear plots revolving around a singular goal. In Black Panther, the Wakandans want to defend their kingdom from evil forces. In Wonder Woman, she wants to make Ares pay for his sins against her people. In X-Men, Charles Xavier’s students want to keep Magneto from killing all humans despite the fact that humans are prejudiced against mutants.

In Occupy Wrestling (which actually is published), Mitch McLeod wants to win the KDW World Championship. Then he wants to keep it. Then he wants to put his boss in jail. Then he wants to protect his girlfriend from hideous monster wrestlers. Then he wants to bring down his boss’s monstrous empire. Then he wants to…uh…uh…damn it! I’m Garrison Kelly! Even when you feel like dying, keep climbing the mountain! What you do once you get to the mountaintop, that’s up to you. I certainly hope that’s not your singular goal in life!

***MOVIE DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

RANDAL: Can’t we do something about those two stoners hanging around the convenience store all the time?

DANTE: Why? What’d they do now?

RANDAL: I’m trying to watch Clash of the Titans and all I can hear is those two screaming about Morris Day at the top of their lungs.

DANTE: I thought the fat one didn’t talk much.

RANDAL: What, am I producing an A&E Biography about them?

-Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back-

***POST-SCRIPT***

While I’m playing the waiting game with Emilio and the Scratching Post (which is finished, by the way), I’ve been keeping busy with reviews of the shortest books I own. You’ll also notice a short story called Goddamn Dog. Well, I’d also like to get back to writing Beautiful Monster during this downtime. I believe it’s been at least a whole month since I’ve touched this project. That’s way too long. When it comes to chapter 17, I’m having a hard time deciding if I should tell the story through Windham’s eyes or Tarja’s. Windham is still in the Shadow Asylum basement being tortured by Kody Savage. Tarja is on her way to rescue him. Maybe I can split this chapter into two parts? Hmm…

Space Jockey

VERSE 1

Let’s go to Mars and drive flying cars

The whole desert planet is all but ours

Don’t worry about the lack of oxygen

Rise from the dead and then walk again

Open armed greeting from the Martians

Sweetheart deal, one hell of a bargain

Never mind that they shoot with ray guns

Or the gravity feels like hauling eight tons

CHORUS

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

Dance in the moonlight and play tonsil hockey

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

Never mind that this shit is way too damn cocky

VERSE 2

Let’s try to hook up with Faye Valentine

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

Let’s go on adventures with Spike Spiegel

Fly through space like an American eagle

Let’s catch bounty heads, be broke anyways

Just like on earth, same old shit every day

This isn’t all just arrogant wish fulfillment

We’re a fucking team and we always kill it

EXTENDED CHORUS 1

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

Dance in the moonlight and play tonsil hockey

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

Never mind that this shit is way too damn cocky

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

Fill your heart with carbon dioxide and pure joy

May the force be with you, my Jedi knight!

Let’s have a light saber battle on Mars tonight

BILL MAHER QUOTE

Fuck Mars! Make Earth Great Again!

VERSE 3

Burning fossil fuels and killing the planet

Cutting down jungles so the rich can have it

Rinse and repeat on the planet of Mars

Control C, control V, drive flying cars

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

On Planet Mars our flag shall not unfurl

It doesn’t take Yoda to figure it out

No such surface will you breathe in and out

EXTENDED CHORUS 2

Live long and prosper, you sons of bitches!

This conspiracy theory leaves me in stitches

I am Groot, motherfuckers! I am Groot!

Space colonization will not bear fruit

I’m Buzz Lightyear! I come in peace!

Then maybe this madness will finally cease

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

The atmosphere is dead, the land is rocky

FINAL LYRICS

Fuck Mars! X4

Lunatic Justice

***LUNATIC JUSTICE***

On the tentative date of February 2^nd, 2018, my very first copy of Lunatic Justice will arrive on my doorstep. Based on how well the book looks in terms of cover size and inner content, that will be the same day I approve it for official publication. For the past few months, Marie Krepps and I have been busy, busy, busy making sure this poetry and song collection was in tiptop shape. Some poems had to be cut while others just needed some simple tweaking. All of the hard work the two of us put into this project will finally pay off. In addition to critiquing my poems, Marie has also constructed an awesome-looking cover, which I’ll reveal to the world once Lunatic Justice is on the market.

The lesson of the day is never to underestimate the power of a good critique buddy. Marie truly is one of a kind when it comes to her role in my book publishing adventures. She’s funny, she’s spicy, and she’s on-point. What more could you ask for in someone like that? She genuinely wants you to find success in your writing journey. She doesn’t give praise unless you’ve earned it. If you want to know how to earn it, she’ll be happy to teach you just that, as long as you’ve got open ears, open eyes, and an open heart. A good critique buddy is often hard to find. When you’ve got yours, hold onto him or her and never let go.

Like Necrograph and Confessions of a Schizophrenic Savage before it, the poetry in Lunatic Justice contains social commentary, angry feelings, and sometimes moments of dark humor. The poems will make you feel uncomfortable at times or even pissed off. But that is the nature of learning new things: to be challenged on a constant basis. Don’t worry, I’m not going to fancy myself as some kind of 32-year-old sage. Lunatic Justice is just one man’s perspective on the ups and downs of life. If you’re willing to open your heart to this kind of music, I encourage you to buy a copy of this book when it eventually hits the online market. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll break shit…just like some of you already do on a daily basis!

I’m Garrison Kelly and I’ll see you motherfuckers soon!

***SILENT WARRIOR***

Another thing I like about having Marie as a critique buddy is her ability to encourage people to do what they’ve always dreamed. When I doubted the direction my creative life was going, she was there to cheer me on as I wrote, as of now, four chapters of Silent Warrior. She especially likes this concept because the content means the most to me. Those are the best kinds of stories and they’re the ones that will sound the most genuine. If you’ve enjoyed the adventures of Scott George so far, get ready for things to take a turn for the worst. Chapter five will be written through the prospective of either Tom Simpson or the Principal of Perkins High, Linda Williams (I haven’t decided yet). I could be accused of head hopping here, but since it’s always successful in movies and TV shows, I really don’t give a damn.

***MOVIE QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“You can’t win the war by fighting what you hate. You win it by saving what you love.”

-Rose Tico from “Star Wars: The Last Jedi”-

The Dark Blade

***THE DARK BLADE***

Childhood is a time for developing one’s creativity and imagination. We buy action figures and Legos so that we can act out our own adventures. We draw pictures with our own naïve vision of what the world should be. We build things out of ordinary objects to show that there’s a world beyond their intended use. For me personally, my favorite form of creativity was coming up with ideas for videogames. One of those videogame ideas was intended to be a rival to Squaresoft’s Chrono Trigger and it was called The Dark Blade.

Chrono Trigger as a Super Nintendo game was everything a child could ask for: beautiful storytelling, emotional characters, innovative settings, and exciting game play. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to play a game about a spiky haired teenager named Crono who travels through time in order to prevent a 1999 apocalypse using lightning magic and katana skills? Who in their prepubescent years wouldn’t have the world’s biggest crush on crossbow fighter Marle or prehistoric vixen Ayla? Who wouldn’t want to use Magus’s shadow magic or Frog’s water magic to overcome the toughest obstacles?

In my pre-teen years, I had a tall task ahead of me if I was going to formulate an RPG that would measure up to the greatness of Chrono Trigger. Therefore, I had The Dark Blade, a supremely underdeveloped story about a spiky haired teenager named David who along with his friends tries to keep the title artifact out of the hands of The Dark Sorcerer (notice the theme of darkness here?). David had the hair of Guile from Street Fighter II, a black karate outfit, ruby boots, vampire fangs (what?!), and the swords of Billy and Jimmy Lee from Double Dragon V. Oh, and he also has the lightning magic of Crono. And he starts the game by going to a carnival, just like Crono.

Being as ignorant as I was about copyright laws, I stole pieces of creative fuel from any source I could find. Princess Crystal Hershey got her last name from the chocolate bar and her outfit from Celes from Final Fantasy VI. Ninja Prince Boris Hershey got his character design from Shadow, also a Final Fantasy VI standout. Nixer (careful how you say that) is a direct rip-off of a Magic: the Gathering card that featured an old ragged man carrying a scythe. Nixer’s magical element was Aura, which is a direct theft of the Aura Bolt technique used by Sabin from Final Fantasy VI.

The Dark Blade’s soundtrack would be stolen directly from albums by The Police, The Moody Blues, Sting, and Metallica. Talk about a bunch of bands that don’t belong in the same concert! Metallica’s “Ride the Lightning” album would serve as battle music, both for normal enemies, mini-bosses, and regular bosses. The Police’s hit “Spirits in the Material World” would serve as carnival music. The Moody Blues’s song “The Voice” would serve as romantic fuel (in a time where I was too young to give a shit about love). Sting’s “Mad About You” would also serve as romantic music even though David and Crystal never officially shack up (again, because I didn’t give two shits and a flying fuck about love back then).

With all of these stolen properties, how would they mesh against the actual story? Somewhere along the way, David would use a lightsaber/baseball bat reminiscent of Star Wars and WWF Wrestlemania: The Arcade Game. He would also ride a hover cycle reminiscent of Space Quest IV. So far, so good. But then we eventually have to get to the depressive dip of the game. Turns out The Dark Sorcerer got a hold of The Dark Blade after all. With its powers, he turned the entire world’s population (except for David, Crystal, Nixer, and Boris) into stone. Turning somebody into a stone statue is straight from the Final Fantasy franchise. Having the bad guy win for a while is the same scenario that happened in Final Fantasy VI when Kefka turned The World of Balance (blue water and green pastures) into the World of Ruin (red water and wastelands).

With the innocence of a child and the creative fuel of a madman, I was sure to have my videogame idea mailed off to Sqauresoft so that they could get cracking on making it. The one thing that kept me from doing so was my brother James’s constant talk about copyright laws and what could happen if I violated them. According to him, I could have my wages garnished and my property stolen by the government. I justified my right to the profits by saying, “I could lock the doors!” Then James said that the Fire Department would come busting through to help the government take my stuff. At one point I whined, “Stop telling me these crummy facts!”, to which he said, “They’re true!”

While I didn’t want my creativity to take a backseat to copyright laws, I had no other choice as I got older and discovered how ridiculous they can be. Viacom and Disney have sued the shit out of anyone and everyone who uploaded their content onto You Tube. Disney has sued a daycare center for using Mickey Mouse decals to decorate the joint. If you want to argue lawsuits, then people these days will sue over anything, and I do mean anything. Donald Trump sued Bill Maher because the comedian said our now president was a descendant of orangutans. James Woods sued a Twitter user for saying that he was a coke head online. The more money you have, the more weight you can throw around in a courtroom. Videogame corporations have a lot of money and by proxy can throw more weight around than WWE Hall of Famers Yokozuna and Rikishi combined.

If The Dark Blade ended up becoming a novel idea in modern day Garrisonism, I suppose I could do away with all of the theft and turn it into something original and fun. People rarely play Super Nintendo games anymore (except for nostalgia purposes on ROM Emulators), so The Dark Blade would have to be a novel. David shouldn’t be such a Gary-Stu for his age, which means no vampire fangs, ruby boots, or dragon swords. Crystal and Boris shouldn’t have the last name Hershey because there have been too many jokes about skid marks over the years thanks to guys like Dave Chappelle. Nixer should have a first name that doesn’t sound like a racial slur. The Dark Sorcerer should have a real name, probably one that doesn’t have “dark” in it.

Turning this childhood videogame idea into a credible novel is a long shot, but I now have the skills and resources to do so as a 31-year-old semi-professional author. Will it rival Chrono Trigger? Ask anybody who’s ever read Occupy Wrestling and they’ll tell you “Hell no!” Then again, nothing can rival Chrono Trigger. It was a special piece of childhood heaven that can’t be taken away no matter how many game consoles 2017 can pump out. You can keep your Halos and Call of Duties and I’ll reminisce in Chrono Trigger’s beauty forever. If anything, I’m clinging to my roots so that I don’t forget how to write The Dark Blade in its truest form. One day, maybe one day David and Crono can have fantasy warfare. We’ve got ears, say cheers! By the way, in case you didn’t know, that last line was stolen from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. I’m a bigger thief than Locke Cole from Final Fantasy VI. Damn it, I did it again!

***THE NEXT FEW DAYS***

While I’m waiting patiently for the Wrestling Observer Newsletter to come out with their 2016 awards, I’m going to have a few creative projects to occupy my time. I only have seven chapters left to read from Ashley Uzzell’s LGBT fairytale (no, that’s not a pun, shut up!) called “Once Upon a Pastry”. I’ll spend the whole day blitzing right through them and offering her my funniest and most poignant critiques. I also have a Dark Fantasy Warrior that needs drawing and his name is Lord McCain, the elf sorcerer from “Emoticon Artist”. Once I’ve officially drawn one hundred colored Dark Fantasy Warriors, I’m going to put their faces in a meme like I did with the uncolored ones. Somewhere along the way, I’ll write the shit out of Demon Axe’s twelfth chapter (don’t rush me, Writer’s Circle, I’ll get to it eventually!). Once I’m done with these tasks, I can begin work on editing the shit out of Poison Tongue Tales and getting it ready for publication. I’ve already edited the first three stories, so that’s SOME progress (again, don’t rush me, Writer’s Circle!). Once I complete these projects, then and only then can I lament not having a WWE Network subscription so that I can see this year’s Royal Rumble and see Bobby Roode win the NXT Championship from Shinsuke Nakamura at the TakeOver special before that. Wish me luck!

***TELEVISION QUOTE OF THE DAY***

DET. CLAUDETTE WYMS: Where were you last night?

SUSPECT: I was at home jerking off into a sock. You guys need the evidence?

-The Shield-

Andy Peloquin

***ANDY PELOQUIN***

It’s midsummer in the world today and that means my wonderful indie author friend Andy Peloquin has released another novel. It’s the sequel to “The Blade of the Destroyer” and it’s called “Lament of the Fallen”. While I haven’t started reading it yet, Andy told me in advance that this next story is more character-driven than violence-driven. He asked me to read and review it for him and I agreed to do so. As an added bonus, he’s going to read and review American Darkness. From that business exchange, we talked about badass heavy metal music and how he was jealous of all the concerts I would be attending this year. I’d bring him along if I could. Andy’s a tall guy, so he’d do well in a mosh pit. Hehe!

Let this business transaction be a reminder to authors everywhere that cooperation is the key to success. Other authors are not your enemies; they’re the best friends you’ll ever have. The words “Competitive Market” are complete bullshit when it comes to independent authors giving each other a hand. In a way, we’re like one big happy family. In that case, Andy would be my big brother and Marie-Pie would be my big sister, which sounds weird after all this time of calling her “Babe-a-Licious Mondo”. I’m sure Luke Skywalker never called Princess Leia that despite the fact that they shared an onscreen kiss. Oh dear.

As eager as I am to get started on reading Andy’s novel, it’s going to have to wait just a short, short while for me to finish reading “A Pedigree To Die For” by Laurien Berenson, which I plan on giving a four-star review once it’s over. I can’t emphasize the shortness of the wait enough since I only have seventy-plus pages left and the pacing is smooth and steady. You could have the collective patience of the entire instant gratification generation and still get through this book in a heartbeat. The only reason why I haven’t is because my eyes get tired easily and it’s a long time between reading sessions. I’m not sure if a white screen Kindle would remedy this problem. Probably not.

If you’re in need of a good book to read or you just want to help out a great friend with getting honest reviews, you should probably ask Andy for a copy of “Lament of the Fallen”, or if it’s on the market, you could put some money in his pocket. I swear by this man’s writing abilities. He earned every bit of praise I gave “Blade of the Destroyer”. If you receive a copy of any of his books, you are guaranteed to have a fun reading experience. Help him out. He deserves your support. I’m Garrison Kelly and I approved this message. Let’s make Andy Peloquin great again! Actually, he’s already great, but you get the idea. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

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

Last week’s vampire-and-cannibal-themed story was over the top and funny as hell according to the people who read it. This week’s story, which is Dream Catcher-themed, will be no laughing matter. It deals with schizophrenia, a topic I divulge minimal information about when talking about myself. I dedicate this story to Jake Lloyd, a schizophrenic actor who’s currently at a psychiatric facility trying to get his life in order. Star Wars fans will remember him as young Anikan Skywalker from The Phantom Menace. Jake gave up acting after that movie since he was being bullied at school for it. The story this week is called “Cold and Scared” and it goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

Eric Bradley, Schizophrenic

Casey Rasmussen, Cop

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Eric keeps a dream-catcher with him at all times in hopes that it’ll ease his schizophrenic nightmares.

SYNOPSIS: Casey has been searching for Eric ever since he was reported as missing by his mother, who warns the cop that her son forgot to take his meds. After a month long search that turned up dead ends, Casey finds Eric alone in the forest cowering in fear. She tries to convince him to come home to his worried mother, but Eric is convinced that she’s been poisoning his food and trying to change him into something he’s not. The cop doesn’t know whether Eric’s story is legit or a schizophrenic delusion. The more she talks to him, the less she knows. The conversation comes down to the wire when they get company in the form of wild wolves.

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

Continuing with the theme of darkness, the next character to be drawn will be Rook Maxwell, the dark paladin from “Wasteland”. She used to be part of a 2007 movie script called World of Darkness, but has since been recycled into a short story from “Poison Tongue Tales”, which I’m still not done editing. I literally only have three stories remaining before I send the whole collection back to Marie for one last inspection. After that, Poison Tongue Tales will be my fifth on-the-market book and the second one to be published in the year 2016. You’ll see Rook Maxwell in it for sure.

***WRESTLING QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Edge may be the Rated-R Superstar, but Lita is rated E for Everyone.”

-Jerry “The King” Lawler-

Dance Like You're Dumb

***DANCE LIKE YOU’RE DUMB***

This journal shouldn’t be confused with the short story I wrote a few weeks ago called “Laugh Like You’re Dumb”, which was about a college student laughing at a rape joke from a movie. I stole that title from an Incubus song and paraphrased it to fit the content. “Dance Like You’re Dumb” is much different and much more lighthearted. In fact, it’s a song WWE COO Triple H can probably relate to if he saw the lyrics. Hehe! Oh, those nepotism jokes never get old. Here are the lyrics to my new favorite Incubus song:

Ohhhh

Nobody gets whatcha got without gettin all hot

With the boss' daughter

Taking her out on the town, dizzy up, spin her round

Makin out with her dress turned upside down

Have a drink! Whatcha think? She's all heels and kink

Betcha thought you'd landed

Then like a pink Boba Fett, she calls you on your bet

And your hat is the least of... what you're handed

Dance!

Because

You're young

And you don’t need a reason

Dance!

Just like

You got

Your legs from a cartoon

Dance!

Just like

You're dumb

Like you don't need the money

Dance!

Under

The moon

Cause you never know, never know

You were kissed with a fist, now you're tied at the wrist

To the boss-man's daughter

You thought singing her praises would get you a raise

Now you're just like a horse being led to the water

Is fine, come on in! Takin one on the chin

Is a price worth payin

For a glimpse, just a look. Let's have one off the books!

She's a pink Boba Fett

And that's all I'm sayin

Dance!

Because

You're young

And you don't need a reason

Dance!

Just like

You got

Your legs from a cartoon

Dance!

Just like

You're dumb

Like you don't need the money

Dance!

Under

The moon

Cause you never never never know

(Never know, never know)

(Never know, never know)

Like you don't need a reason

Yeah, you don't need the money

Yeah, you don't need a reason

Yeah, you don't need the money

Like you don't need a reason

Like you don't need the money

Like you don't need a reason

Like you don't need a money

Just when you thought you were done, catch ya breath

Too much fun, now the red lights flashin

She kept a rainbow of pills, she was up on her thrills

Both her brains and her body liked

A good bashin

Of course, they're not mine! Officer, I'm not tryin to put it all on her

Put it on who? City boy, take a look, it's just you

Now I'm just like a lamb headed to the slaughter

Dance!

Because

You're young

And you don't need a reason

Dance!

Just like

You got

Your legs from a cartoon

Dance!

Just like

You're dumb

Like you don't need the money

Dance!

Under

The moon

Cause you never never never know

Yeah, you never never never know

Dance!

Look it up on You Tube if you get the chance. It’s worth it! We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***WSS: MONTHLY CONTEST***

It’s a new month, which means I’m on double duty when it comes to short stories, one for the month of June and one for the week of May 4^th, 2016 (May the fourth be with you, Star Wars nerds; this is a good day to Google pictures of chicks in Leia’s metal bikini). For the monthly contest, we’ve got a picture prompt given to us by the wonderful photographer and WSS admin Alex-Pie. It’s basically a picture of roman pillars protecting what could be the entrance to a sacred building. Therefore, my story for the June issue of WSS’s online magazine is called “Tiger Bullet Kick”. It goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

Bob Rua, Tiger Monk

Makoto Lionheart, Clown Samurai

Viktor, Mummy Warlord

PROMPT CONFORMITY: The entrance of the mausoleum is marked with the pillars in the photograph.

SYNOPSIS: Bob is the loyal watchman of a mausoleum containing mummified bodies and ancient treasure. Makoto sneaks into the building and uses necromancy to raise Viktor from the dead. It is revealed that Bob was the one who put Viktor in his grave using a martial arts attack called the “Tiger Bullet Kick”. In his old age, Mr. Rua can’t afford to use such a powerful move again lest it completely drains his spiritual energy and kills him. Sacrificing himself to put Viktor back in his tomb would leave the treasure and other mummies readily available to Makoto. Being an elderly martial arts master affords Bob a lot of wisdom, but even he can’t wrap his head around this one in a matter of crucial seconds.

***WSS: WEEKLY CONTEST***

You can’t have double duty without two stories. The weekly prompt is “Force” (again, Happy Star Wars Day), though I’m going to interpret it to be something much darker than a light saber fight with Kylo Ren. It’s called “Vex Ed” and it goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

Martin Hitch, Sex Ed Teacher

Jennifer McHenry, Sexual Assault Victim

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Jennifer’s sexual experience was forced upon her.

SYNOPSIS: When Martin teaches sex education at Ocean View High School, he takes the abstinence only approach by putting emphasis on sexual diseases, pregnancies, and low social status. In his booming voice, he compares teenagers who have had sex multiple times to chewed up pieces of gum that lost their flavor. Jennifer, a victim of sexual assault, takes offense Martin’s oratory and bursts out of her seat to attack him. It takes multiple students to pull her off, but they won’t go unscathed either since the act of restraining reminds her of the rape she experienced.

Damn, I sure have a lot of American Darkness 2 characters named Jennifer!

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

These drawings are pretty much my go-to creative task whenever an exhausting day takes over. You all saw drawings I did of Clint Magnus, Tetra Engel, and Gargoth Trencher. The next one will be Stinger Crushwar, the obnoxious rhino barbarian from “Unleash the Animal”. Although, his name should be Stinker Crushwar seeing as how he took a shit in Rosie Moonbender’s magic pool. Either way, it’s another barbarian on my long list of them.

Speaking of toilet humor…

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“There’s a diet pill on the market where one of the side effects is anal seepage. If you’re taking this pill, I don’t care how much weight you’ve lost, ‘cause you’re not looking good in those jeans.”

-Jeff Foxworthy-