Archive for the 'General Writing' Category
Wednesday, April 2nd, 2008
Holy Blogtastical Blogging, Batman!
Holy fuck.
I haven’t written anything here in too long. I apologize. Axe and I have come up with a new plan to actually get anything done at all, the Production Hour. It’s a clever name that isn’t that clever, for something that everybody does already. I honestly think that the world at large should consider this concept for all office style business.
When I worked in an office, I probably managed the Peter Gibbons level of work each day. The fact was, that after sitting in my tiny cubicle for about 30 minutes, I was no longer able to think. The process literally halted. I don’t know if there’s some alchemical effect from the stuffy air, constant murmur of voices, and brain crushing fluorescent lights, but it felt like they combined in a mental version of Devastator and rampaged through my psyche, leaving a swath of destruction. By 1pm everyday I was useless. Utterly.
I couldn’t even summon the power to overcome the thought-miasma that hung in the air. If I was asked a question, I would honestly deflect it with verbal jujitsu. Or, I would claim ignorance, which didn’t really work, because I was well known for my bizarre memory.
I firmly believe that this way of working should be removed, and the Production Hour or whatever synonym people use (hour of power, go time, etc.) should replace it. The Production Hour for us is simple: we arrive at a coffee shop with everything in hand that we need to work. The clock starts, and we have one hour to get as much completed as possible. We can bounce ideas off each other, but we absolutely do not stop to talk, debate, brainstorm, or shoot the shit. It’s easy to think you’re getting things done when you brainstorm, but most people don’t know how to do it well. That’s another story.
It’s easy when you’re at home to jerk around, and not get things done. There’s distractions galore, but more than that, it’s the place you WANT TO RELAX. There’s a million distractions, AND you often think about doing things around the house. It sucks. If you do work out of your home, I’ve found that I MUST have a place that I go to in order to work. That’s it. It’s the only thing I do when I go to this place (my pit), and if I feel the need to do something else, I leave. You cannot treat it like a hobby, I have and it’s burned me. Don’t follow my foolish footsteps…alliteration!
The Production Hour could be a ticket to ride, but we’ve only just implemented it, so time will tell on the success rate.
Tuesday, April 1st, 2008
Nice review….
Have you read an Anime review online lately? Here’s a sample :
When it comes to clarity and making sense, this volume is kind of a mess, but what a dramatic and beautiful mess it is.
….What?
Let’s talk about something here for a minute. It’s going to seem like a tangent, but I assure you, it is part of this whole mess. We all like shitty movies. Not as a group, but each of us probably has a list of movies, that we KNOW people think are shitty, that we love. We don’t care that they’re shitty, in fact we almost wear it as a badge of honor. This is the movie that’s OURS. In all it’s Shitglory. Whatever, it’s no big deal. Here’s the thing…
Almost all the reviews I’ve seen for anime film and television, have a sentence, similar to, if not almost exactly the same as the one quoted above. Which leads us to conclude something…There’s a lot of shitty anime being made.
Now the people in the peanut gallery are going to be shouting at me “there’s a lot of shitty movies in hollywood made each year fucker!”. And, they would be correct. In 2007, conservative estimates say that about 200 movies received major release from the land of make believe. Of the one’s I saw, maybe two of them weren’t disappointing. (Juno and Hot Rod; Juno was so clever it cut the roof of my mouth like Cap’n Crunch, and Hot Rod was one of those “so retarded it’s funny” kinda deals)
However, the average that Hollywood is running seems to be much better than the Anime crowd is pumping out. The number of seminal Anime films, with I take to mean that anybody who likes Anime agrees they’re awesome, can be counted on one hand. let’s do it kids!
Akira (duh), Ghost in the Shell, Princess Mononoke….my example goes to pieces here, the votes splinter. But they don’t splinter that far.
Is Anime generally shittier? Or, perhaps, do anime fans have lower expectations?
These reviews beg some questions. If something is a mess, it’s a mess. And being “ok” with the fact that it is a mess, strikes me as a lazy approach to pushing for improvement in the art form. Especially if they plan to let us Western Dogs into their playground. We’ll burn it down man…we don’t know any better.
Monday, March 24th, 2008
My evil plans continue…
So I tricked the boys over at The New West into publishing the article I wrote for the Alberta Freeride Awards.
Which surprises the shit out of me by the way. I’m not that good at the journalism thing, I tend to use the word “fuck” too often. All a part of my constant desire to be as racy as J.D. Salinger. Of course having any validity would make that happen faster, and perhaps…at all.
I like the journalism kick, I just can’t seem to get focused on the W5 of whatever it is I’m at. I’m often compelled to fixate on some innocuous part of the whole deal, and write an article about a particular hors d’oeuvre that contained something offensive to my tastes. Like fake crab…or spicy mustard. It’s often construed as an attempt on my part to be quirky, but the secret is out now: I pretty much have ADD. It helps me play Quake well though, so I guess there’s an up side and down side to every schwartz.
I’m still doing the Panda Girls treatment. I think I’ll always be doing it. This is my Sisyphean punishment playing itself out for all those afternoons in English Language Arts in which I stared out the window, and ignored everything that Edgar Allan Poe did with his life. Maybe if they talked about Neal Stephenson I’d give two shits. Maybe we all would have.
Because while the horrible beating of the heart beneath the floor boards may be risque, it doesn’t stand up against Hiro Protagonist, hacker extraordinare and the greatest swordsmen alive.
Friday, March 21st, 2008
Word Salad
I don’t often get the chance to call someone “pedantic”, and it was a strange feeling to be doing so in a game of Call of Duty.
I like words. I like big ones, and small ones; I use profanity as my adverbs and nouns. Words can be fun. They can also be used to cover up for the fact that you have no clue what you’re saying; I used to spew bullshit all the time and call it gravy.
I’ve heard from plenty of people about the times I was just being wordy for the sake of it, and sometimes they’re right. It’s easy to get caught up in the flowery prose you’re putting down. A sort of highway hypnosis, as you watch words flow onto the page. But, occasionally, I’m accused of it in circumstances that are different. The reason we have so many words, is that life and it’s concepts are not always simple. Much like the necessity for the color “indigo” and “fuchsia”, there are degree that can only be delineated by specific words. I think the real struggle is knowing when to use them. But there’s also something that should be said to those who immediately cry wolf when the big words show up:
Get a fucking dictionary.
It’s not my fault if you don’t know the word “etymology” or “circumspect”, and complain when I use it in proper context. Quit being lazy, and read some books. Frankly, you strike me as scared little pissants who don’t want the world to know that you can’t immediately identify a word. I screw up all the time, big deal.
Conversely, I think when you’re shooting each other with pixelated weapons in a warehouse level of a video game, and somebody drops “yer” instead of “you’re”, maybe the Word Police can chill out.
Monday, March 17th, 2008
Total Coverage
I have a teen burger in one hand, and the largest container of water in my house, in the other.
Last night I was a witless assistant in the governance of the Alberta Freeride Awards, the annual nomination and celebration of Free Ride masters in the province. I had decided to do a write up of the event, so after taking some photos of prize winners, I cracked open my lappy and started typing.
And now, a word on the Hunter S. Thompson School of Journalism. As fun as it might seem to get completed twisted on heinous chemicals, and then try to bring some perspective to the events around you, you probably shouldn’t try. Thompson was a high-powered freak of nature, and an incredible writer to boot. You can’t bring the same incisive commentary as him into the ring just because you swallowed a lot of Jim Beam. It’s sad and pathetic to see so many fan’s of his work, trying to emulate it so poorly. He wasn’t so magnificent because he was drunk. He was magnificent, AND he was drunk. Unless you happen to have great talent in the first place, being fucked up isn’t going to do you any good.
I just closed my laptop after a few sentences, realizing that I had neither the talent, nor the mental capacity to do anything but flail away at the keys. My meager journalism talents must be used in the cold light of morning, burger in hand.