Cutting Away

It looks like I might need to do a little house cleaning, its time to cut some of the things I have clung to away. Not in the literal, real life sense. But in the sense of my writing. Some of the ideas I have bonded with over the years in terms of my writing have grown more and more unnecessary with every rewrite. More than ever I’m seeing that now.

So when I edit or get back to writing, I am doing away with a lot. A lot of characters, a lot of concepts and I am taking things down to a basic level again and writing about a smaller group of people.

So its going to be a long road and the rewrite promises to be even harder when I have to cut so much away and as Stephen King put it murder my darlings. There’s a lot of contemplation going into who should stay and who shouldn’t, because in my head I want to keep all of them but I know if I do, it won’t be as good.

Pulp Fiction

It’s like a bad dream,
Something from the back of a magazine
Black and white and cheaply put together
Like a Slasher Film
I’m torn in opposite directions
The plot sucks
But the killings are gorgeous

Weekend Web

I don’t know why I do this shit, every few months I go on Weekend Web and start reading articles and there’s always that one that you know is going to be bad but you read it and you can just feel…

…well have you ever felt your soul suddenly be crushed by a huge invisible fist? That’s what weekend web does to you.

 

*For those who don’t know—weekend web is a section on Somethingawful.com where they go and find messed up forums and post screen shots of the messed up stuff they say.

A Gunshot Romance

She sits upright in the bed with the midmorning light filtering through the clouds and blinds onto her sweat dewed skin. Her own sweat and his.

And on the other side of the bed he’s sleeping covered with her excess sheets and the gunpowder scent of cigarettes. His arm is against her hand and she wants this to last, but she knows it’s like the dozen other times they’ve been in these same positions. She knows that in the expanse of her life this is but a flash.

As romantic as it may be, the moment passes in no time. It’s in the struggle for closeness. Then fumbling and the archaic motions and meeting of bodies. In the moments between he loves her and they’re insatiably locked together. Those same instances give way to a moment of clarity. That this is the perfect fit.

Like a bullet and gun.

Regardless of the duration of the encounter, the end is inevitable. Even if she sighs in perfect time with his movements and moans right there’s no bonus time rewarded. Real life doesn’t have to reward for efforts and improvement. Sometimes you do something over and over with the same, horrible, lonely result.

In the morning, it’s over. The flash of the muzzle, the kick and bucking recoil and the bullet’s expelled.

She sits upright in the bed as he sleeps next to her and wonders how many times she can pull that trigger before it dry fires.

There’s Much to Be Done

I need to get back into writing, I burned out so fast this time. Not because of lack of ideas or a block, but just because there was no will left to press forward with what I had. I don’t know how to fix this, but I just need to force through it.

Show Your Progress

Having been having to blog so much lately. Don’t have much to talk about, the news stuff I usually post is pretty much all I could post on and even that has been kind of the “same ol’, same ol’”. So as kind of a mark in the sand and a way to show progress in posting in this thing more often, I am making this post now. Now to post on anything in particular but to show I am still here.

More Climate Truth…that you’ll never hear.

Taken from something I saw on the show Nova…

Recent studies of rock and soil samples taken from underwater, upright caves in the Caribbean called blue holes revealed something rather startling in the way of climate change evidence. Over the last 11,000 years ago there have been many climate change events. Some coming on rapidly but some coming on in as little as fifty years.

Preceding the rapid climate change events there is a layer of red sediment found, red being the color of iron usually. Upon closer inspection, the people who looked though this red formation of dust found that it was not just iron, but it was dust from the Sahara desert.

How does dust get across the ocean in such high amounts? Well during periods of drought the dust dries out and is carried by the wind and settles in these caves. A corresponding drought can be seen in the Sahara before each of these climate change events. What’s more interesting is the drought in the desert now mirrors them and that most of these change events happened before humans had any means to cause them. (which shoots to shit all the global warming stuff you hear people toting)

Considering the desert there has been in a drought for about the past fifty years, it looks like we’re on the cusp of such an event right now. It also means that this isn’t the fault of humans and there’s more than likely nothing we can do but ride it out.

Don’t expect to hear this on any of the big news channels or anywhere that the public can see it. The going green fad has become big business and people like Al Gore stand to line their pockets from the narcissistic myth that we are the sole and only contributor to what he calls the ruination of Earth. Even though anyone who’s taken an entry level geography class can look at a soil sample and tell you how much of a lie that is.

Pimp Hand

Pimp Hand
1. (n.) A sign of virility, strength or social efficacy. An informal measure of one's ability to mack, pimp, or generally to get play, action or get your freak on. Generally characterized as "strong" or "weak."
2. To "exercise one's pimp hand": to increase one's skill at short-term sexual interactions, or to demonstrate such.
3. One's ability to control one's bitches.
4. A back-handed slap, used to emphasize superiority, or a forthcoming need to choke a bitch.
1. Damn, son! Yo' ass picked up some *fine* bitches last night! Yo' pimp hand is strong!
2. You're losing your touch, man. Come out to the club tonight so we can exercise your pimp hand.
3. His strong pimp hand keeps his hos in line.
4. You gonna take that shit?! Introduce yo' pimp hand to that bitch ass motherfucker!

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Pimp+Hand

Lampshaded

Despite the fact that I only get to see it for a very short time per year, I like the cold. That is to say I like the tolerable cold. This negative six, snowing and shit we had earlier isn’t cool. But when its in the 30s-50s I can deal.

Because of this I had my window opened last night to let the air blow in and just be all relaxing. Then at three AM the fucking tall lamp near my window blew down at the perfect any to slap my in the mouth as hard as it could.

I’m not even sure how it got the angle right, worked its way around other objects and the like, but it seems that nature is trying to warn me that cold windy weather just isn’t as fun as I once thought.