Ah, kicking back on Halloween, "Lay Lady Lay" just got done playing and now "Dig My Grave" is on. Wonderfully eclectic and strangely relaxing all at once.

New Feature and update to the Fiction page should be up soon. Good stuff and worth checking out. Not much else going on here at the moment. Seems I've been leaving little terrorist comments on Kari and Josh's Blogs more than bothering to write my own. So it goes.

Not sure what the next couple of days are going to have in store. I suspect that "Trying" will be closer to be finished by that time, but I'm not feeling a deep driving desire to spend 8-10 hours a day on it at this point (which doesn't mean anything for the long haul, honestly, or even the rest of tonight...) but so far it's sound pretty decent. I'll get it done and then see if/where it fits and then take a listen to see if the album's done or if I need more. That's probably the best way to say when "lilies of the field" is actually going to be done. It's not done yet, I know that much, but I really don't want to say how many more tracks are needed.

On another note, twas Bea's birthday a few days ago, so belated Joe Mammy birthday wishes go out to the most charming and girliest of devil pups.

I've been chatting on and off with Ray and Brian at the Birdhouse and looks like I've conned Ray into doing a post-season encore interview for the Features to bookend the one he did at the beginning of the season. Still working on lining up some other ones, but I'll let you know more right before I post them, just cuz I like to be mysterious and stuff.

Anyway, since there's no real goings on, feel free to lob arrows at your fellow man...

-Joe

My computer is becoming the bane of my existence. Case in point--this is actually the second I've tried to this stupid post. There's some little freaky driver or piece of aberrant software that's forcing me to reboot the damn thing after 30 minutes of use on average. The joys of proprietary sound drivers (the most likely candidate, in all honesty) but then again, I doubt they were meant to do as much as I ask them to do. In either case, tis the craps, sir.

Cards lost in grandiose fashion, or more to the point lost decisively without so much as a whimper. Probably the ugliest string of four games in a row I remember seeing all season long--against better teams. No ragging on the Red Sox, but I've seen the boys hit better pitching (which, while the Sox were good, they weren't unhittable--unless apparently you had a bird on your jersey). Tis of no consequence any more. I'm sure Red Sox fans will find something else to cry about, but it is a nice thing for the life-long guys who had suffered for years and years. (Note: if you're not at least 30, that classification does not include you...) So it goes. A hundred days and change until Spring Training. In lieu of hockey, that's what I get to be excited about.
The new track is coming along. Still not 100% on what I think of it. I think more of it than I did the last time I posted, I know that. More a question of lyrics at this point. A rough version is about 60-75% done at this point and, as is customary, it's not like much of anything else on the album, but similar in some respects to all of it.

I fired off the first part of "Softer, Shallow" to Dust as well as the latest Feature. Keep checking back the Fiction and Feature pages for their triumphant arrival. In all honesty, I'm not sure what I think of "Softer, Shallow" anymore. I added some stuff and made it better, but I've been through it so many times over the years that I honestly think it sucks ass half the time. Make up your own mind. As a safety measure the short stories will remain on the Fiction page and one or two sections at a time will be posted of "Softer..."

Hung out with Rex Havoc and Josh (potential Joe-Mammy nicknames include: "Junior" "Spahhhhhk" "Actor Troy McClure" and "Lisa"...) for dinner. Twas a nice evening with the food and the talk of herpes hashbrowns (it's not as bad as you think... or maybe it is and I just didn't get the joke...) and other such frivolities. They're a good crew, as crews go. Perhaps at some point they'll be in my posse (in other words, they'll return my phone calls and e-mails when I'm not buying Rex's dinner...) Josh's bit of bloggy goodness is linked right over here -->

Ah, good times, now I'm harassing Josh on his own precious little message board. What marvels modern technology has given us to harangue and alienate our fellow man. I'm sure he's returning the favor at this very moment. Leave your filthy little comments all you want, young Joshua, for you shall ultimately have to bow before the might of Joe Mammy!

I should do something more constructive with my life...

-Joe

Well, a couple days in the grind are behind me. It's been strange. Seems to be a recurring theme, no? Perhaps it's an existential sense of boredom with just a hint of lime. Hard to tell.

Anyway, off work for a couple now with the Cards down 0-3. It ain't over yet, but it's starting to look like you can see it from here. Oh well. The biggest bummer is that, should disappointment come for the baseball season, I don't have my usual bail out of pro hockey. Bad for me, good for you--I'll have less distracting me so I can continue to pump out the lovely literary and musical cheese you've come to know and love.

Ran into someone who actually knew WTF (see previous post "A Toast"...) Twas strange on a number of levels. Again, I'm not going to break into a melodramatic heart-wrenching tirade of raw emotion and/or vulnerability (that's so 1999...) but it did kick some stuff up. Hopefully just enough to get some writing/music done. I'll keep you all posted. In the meantime, perhaps some impromptu fiction?

The rain was becoming heavy and chunky. Some would call it sleet or freezing rain. I just called it another reason to move. Of course naming something or adding it to a list of reasons to move is like keeping track of your bowel movements--it might be thorough and even show trends, tendencies and activities, but in the end it's all still shit.

I'd been in the one bedroom basement dungeon/apartment for two years then. I'd like to say I've made progress but now I just pay more rent and get to have a better view of a neighborhood I don't like. Such is life. Anyway the car was sliding back and forth of its own volition as I tried to delicately balance my cell phone on my shoulder and the stack of pizza boxes in the drivers seat. It's not that I loved my life and it's not that I felt like I was being propelled forward to some eventful future--it was more that I was damn sure I didn't want to die in that stupid red "Pizza Barn" shirt.

Apparently at one point I thought I'd be clever and aim for a clearer path through the growing slush and immediately found the car being thrust into a power line. It's amazing how many things you can try in those final fateful seconds--none of which do a damn thing for you. There was a crunch and a jolt and some other noises and then a lot of swearing. The swearing was me.

I got out of the car. The front end of the car was messed up, but nothing I hadn't done worse and driven away from. I almost thought for a second that I had gotten off with only a shittier looking car and bruise to my ego when I saw checked the tires. They were nearly bald to begin with and now two were down. I realized my cell phone was gone. I climbed back into the car and dug around. Beneath a Canadian bacon/pineapple, a supreme and a pepperoni with kraut I found it. I'd lost the call, but it hadn't been that important: an ex-girlfriend trying to round up $75 I supposedly owed her for back rent or some other damn thing. No big loss, either way.

"Hey, you alright?"

I turned around and saw an older man looking me over. He wore an old camouflage coat and a pair of boots that were probably older than me. "Yeah, car's done though. Tires are down and at this point they're worth more than the car."

"Aw, that's too bad, too bad," he intoned solemnly.

I shrugged. "It is what it is, I guess. Guess I'm looking for a new job now. Just as well."

"Well, sometimes you just have to look at it that way, I s'pose. 'Sides, you're young, got a good look about ya. I'm sure you'll find something else."

"Well, there's always some crap job out there if you're willing to take it."

The old man chuckled, "True. Always someone needs their toilet cleaned or their garbage hauled."

I looked at him more closely. His clothes looked surplus store all the way. His face was deeply lined with what were more crevices than wrinkled. At his side he had a large knapsack with a bedroll rolled neatly at its base. A small spaniel looking dog sat obediently next to it.

"Well, you need some help getting it off the road?"

I didn't want to move it, but I really didn't want the police to send me another ticket in the mail. I didn't care if they impounded it, I just didn't want to pay for it in the meantime.

"Yeah, suppose I'd better at least try."

After some doing we managed to get it out of the way and in prime position for it to be hauled away never to be seen by my eyes again.

The old man surveyed the car. "Yup, it's a shame it had to happen. But in this weather I s'pose you just need to be thankful it wasn't something worse."

My mind flashed again on my corpse lying strewn outside the windshield with blood and brain matter gushing from my head with my Pizza Barn shirt proudly proclaiming that I had died a menial loser.

"Yeah, good thing."

The old man had gathered his pack and dog and was about to set on his way again. I tossed him the keys to the car.

"Have some pizza."

-Joe

Well, the Cards are down 0-2. I can't say I'm all that surprised, but it would've been nice to take one in the opening set in Boston so the Cardinal faithful can see their team take the World Series at home. Oh well. That's why we've been saying Cards in 7, I suppose.

Strange weekend. Got to (eventually) see "The Grudge" with Christophe der Soul Stealer. I likey, he not so much. It wasn't as good as, say, "The Ring" but definitely had some cool visual stuff. The non-linear story thing probably could have stood being cleaned up a bit and the ending was a little silly, but all else being equal some good chuckles, some good scares and really good visual feel.

At the moment I'm just grooving with a little Cush ("Aching Heart" to be specific...) and winding down for the evening. Got a short story done this weekend and fired it off to Rex for a review and have heard all of squat so far so either he hasn't read it or didn't love it. I'm afraid to ask.

Also started on a new track. I'm not sure if this one is going to make the album, honestly, but it's got some good riffs and a different feel (which are all criteria for making the album) I'll know more when I get more done with it. I'm loathe to admit it (and perhaps that's part of my reason for not being sure whether it's going to be on the album) but I finally wrote a song about the election and the world since 9/11. Granted I never come out and say it directly but I'm getting tired of politicians on all sides raping the graves of those who died in a horrific act to push their policies and to criticize others. I'm sick of it and I'm sick of the sense of moral outrage, again, both sides seem to have about the world. Get used to it. The world really hasn't changed, you're just getting an occasionally less filtered view of it. And to believe a knight in shining armor is going swoop down, take office and make it the 50's (without the repression and Cold War...) is arguably the most simple-minded thing I've ever heard. It all balances out in the end--and we all get screwed regardless.

I know I've promised not to rant too heavily on here and I apologize, but this has been brewing for quite some time. It's easy to get wrapped up in all the hype but come November 3rd what'll you have? If you're expecting your life to change because of this election (assuming your last names isn't Bush or Kerry--sorry Nader...) then I kinda pity you. I'm not pushing apathy, but a hint of realism might do some good. Do your duty and vote your conscience, just don't expect any miracles.

And go Cardinals.

-Joe

I like grocery shopping at 2 in the morning. No lines, no army of screaming infants (and if there are you can feel perfect justified at your irritation with the parents) and, tonight, free stuff. The local grocery has a kinda hipster (in a punk sorta way, not like Hilary Duff...) guy on night shift. Well, I bought some produce and the little scanner thing wasn't cooperating with the register, so after trying a couple times he just looked at me and muttered "fuck it" and tossed it with the rest of my groceries. Only a couple bucks difference, but I don't get free stuff very often so it twas sweet. Yea!

Happy Birthday to man with the plan, the guy with the vision, the dude who got the beat the living crap out of Bruce Campbell on a regular basis: Sam Raimi. Joe-Mammy.com salutes you!

-Joe

So yeah, it's been a hectic coupla days. Kicking off with the unscheduled field trip (see previous post) and then working--during the decisive games of the NLCS no less all culminating in a weekend off and the Cardinals being crowned NL Champions. Hand me a book deal and this is pretty much the week I've dreamed of.

Speaking of book deals, there's a site that's promoting/sponsoring "National Novel Writing Month," or NaNoWriMo as they call it. Seems like a charming neat idea--which means of course I'm going to have absolutely nothing to do with it. However, any of you out there interested in pumping out 50,000 words in a month take a look at it. Or, if you're like me and just morbidly curious, drop by, too. Encourage the written word, kids, cuz TV is killing us all. Except for Mythbusters--they save babies and cure cancer.

So, other than watching the opening round of the World Series, I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing this weekend. I should do some more writing. I should also do some more music. I should also sleep more, but I'm feeling a bit more sociable than usual for some freakish reason, so maybe going out a night or two is what's actually going to happen. Who knows?

On a side note, unrelated to anything, I tried to drop by Tess Wiley's site earlier in the week and it appears to be, well, gone. Strange. In either case, the interview still is in the Features and her music is still worth checking out. Just might be a little harder to do now.

Right now Virgil is whapping (is that even a real word?) his head against my arm, which means I can try to keep typing here and ignore his whining and barking or I can do something else. Dogs are cool. Next time someone isn't doing what I want them to do I should just start running my head into them until they bend to my wishes.

Or I get arrested.

You know, whichever.

-Joe

Before I forget, check out the unauthorized biography of Walt Whitman...

So it's quiet Monday night, say about 3 in the morning and you're in the process of putting together a tasty frozen bit of dinner, what should you do to spice up the evening?

a) Make a spontaneous call to some friends for a late-night burrito fiesta!
b) Science fun: put said burrito in the microwave and let it run for 30 minutes--just to see what'll happen.
c) Sit back with your burrito, light some candles and reflect on life and love and days gone by.
d) Wear the red nighty as you warm your tortilla, bean and cheese collaboration of love (recommend for women only...)
or
e) Take your frozen burritos and instead of defrosting them to get them from their conjoined status bust out a knife and proceed cut the hell out of your finger.

Congratulations, if you chose "e" then you could be the next Joe Mammy!

So, I gots me some stitches (and, for the record, trying to type with your hand constrained in an over-abundant swath of bandages sucks...) and, no doubt, just got to throw a butt load of money down the toilet. But on the bright side I got to take a brief tour of the local emergency room (no, I didn't call an ambulance, either. I might be a wuss, but I'm not a hysterical wuss...) Of course the field trip wouldn't be so bad if I didn't loathe hospitals (again, let us raise our glasses and toast JLA-S with a hearty "Thanks a friggin' bunch!") and the cutest thing I saw was a rather attractive doctor who got to treat the lady in the room next to me while Dr. Ricardo tended to me. No knock against Dr. Ricardo, he was a perfectly fine physician, but a cute female doctor at least softens the blow a little. Or at least I would've liked to test the theory.

In either case, I got my stitches for doing what everyone's mom told them not to do when using a knife. I thought for a minute whether I actually wanted to go seek any treatment for it--cuz, let's face it, it was embarrassing--but then I remembered the feeling of the knife hitting the bone in my finger and figured that I was pretty much hosed either way I played it. Moral of the story: listen to your mom.

Anyway, other than that little adventure I got the next Feature together and fired it off to Dust and then submitted a story (we'll see how that works out...) to a major website and topped it off with a piece for the Birdhouse. Surprisingly productive, really given the fact I didn't think anything was getting done tonight. (And, for you Cardinal fans, just consider my little foray at the hospital as Mathenying myself...)

I also continued my campaign to get the next Feature. I don't usually talk about who I'm pursuing, as you know, but I've been trying to land this next one for a while:

A little crude perhaps, but I'm making the Bruce Campbell interview one of the big goals here at Joe-Mammy.com. If you feel so inclined drop by Bruce's site and let him know that you want to see him as a Joe-Mammy.com Feature. I promise you there won't be any lame "Evil Dead 4" questions.

-Joe

Well, it was one of those weekends. Yikes. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

And then there was Game 5 of the NLCS tonight.

I never liked Jeff Kent, or Carlos Beltran for that matter.

May birds poop upon their heads. (Preferably Cardinals...)

I still haven't seen any movies in over a week (which honestly feels nice on some level...) but now I'm getting back logged and am seeing my Tuesday being swallowed up quickly. Woo-freakin'-hoo.

I'm going to work on a piece for the Birdhouse tonight and then maybe some other miscellaneous stuff--I've got the next Feature more or less together but there's always something else to be done, right?

Other than that, no real tracks bouncing around in the ol' noodle nor writing projects. It's just cold and rainy and dark. Such are the days of fall in the middle of nowhere. Smoke 'em if you got 'em...

-Joe

Well, let's do this again. Blogs are neat until they nuke your post before it's, well, posted. Then they're the suck. I speak the truth. So let it be written, so let it be done.

Anyway, been a good day mostly. Cards took Game 1 of the NLCS (always a happy thing), picked up "Invader Zim Vol 3" (also, a happy thing) and then got schooled by Chris "I don't have a Joe-approved nickname yet" in foosball (not so much with the happy...) There is much to do in the next day.

Still need to see "Friday Night Lights" as well as Game 2 of said NLCS. Need to actually get working on the long-promised Chapter 1 of the serial "Softer, Shallow" (as far as editing) and finish up on the latest Feature.

Speaking of which, I noticed the strange and colorful folks at Compfused.com featured a link to our next featured guest here at Joe-Mammy.com. I've gotten some preliminary stuff together (that and compounded with the fact Platypus Man is busy for the next week or so have taken the rush of it) for the DanB from Otherpower.com interview. It's good stuff, Maynard. Notice once again how someone gets tapped for a Joe-Mammy.com interview and good things start to happen. Remember when I e-mailed the President for an interview and it didn't happen? Now look who's leading in the polls. I don't want to say Joe-Mammy.com is responsible for the ebb and flow of global politics, but it does seem suspicious, no? Spinsanity.org does an interview and then they're on the Daily Show. Hyneman drops in for a chat and his show returns stronger than ever. Mileur comes in and the Cardinals are in the playoffs and the Birdhouse rolls on. Tess comes in and, um, well, Tess is cool. Same with Null. Joe R Lansdale continues to be cooler than any other two living writers put together. Point being: Joe=Good, No Joe=Certain Horrible Death.

And speaking of the Birdhouse, I still haven't gotten a thing together for them. I'll rationalize and say I'm waiting to see how Game 2 turns out, but I'm a little short on ideas, too. Of course that doesn't usually stop me. Anyway, a little more tweaking with "Shallow" is in the works as well as likely rerecording (at least at some point) of "Second First" and the ever-popular "one or two more tracks." I've been a busy little Joe-monkey which I hope justifies me probably getting jack done tomorrow. So it goes.

-Joe

I was going to do more this weekend, I promise. I did manage to get a working demo (however barely working) of a new track together. A finished version should be forthcoming. At this point I've got enough length to call it an album, but I'd still like at least another track to round things out. We'll see. "lilies of the field" just might be done ahead of schedule. Who'd a thunk it?

And, another note:
CARDS WIN! CARDS WIN! CARDS WIN!

Break off a switch, son. There's gonna be a whuppin' (directed to either the Braves or Astros and, you know, whoever wins the AL...)

Started getting the Feature together (that was supposed to be tonight's project as well as other editing and fixing of things...) but I've got a vicious headache and pretty much would like to puke. So, things probably aren't getting done tonight, unfortunately. As a sign of penance, I'm going to through a first look at "lilies of the field" on the NEP site. Check out the samples page for "Uprising" the first demo that I put together. Enjoy...

-Joe

Just a quick update, nothing too interesting beyond that, I'm afraid.

Finished the last track "Firefly" and am about 75% done on another "Shallow" If I'm not careful I just might finish the album before Halloween. Strange, no? Also have the next Feature and need to go through it and such so hopefully it will be up in the next week or so. Tis another winner. And I know I promised to edit part one of "Softer, Shallow" last week, but I lied. Maybe this weekend.

Anyway, Twins are winning (yea!), Red Sox won (boo!), Houston leads (boo!) and the Cards are looking to complete the sweep (awwww yeahhhhh!) so I'm baseball boy tonight. Playoffs seem to be bringing out the best in the supporting writers at the Birdhouse. I should probably step up as well. Hopefully I'll have a happy "we swept" thing to do after tonight...

-Joe

Bad things happen when I watch things related to politics. I suddenly have this urge to wretch compounded with an inexplicable feeling that I need to bathe. So, of course, between watching the Twins knock off the Yankees at home (whee!) and after watching my boys throw down and show the Dodgers why 105 wins deserves respect (sock it to me, sock it to me...) I waded through portions of the Vice-Presidential debate. Now Edwards just seems like that brown nosing kid who sat right behind you in elementary school who, for every questions, would raise his hand, holding it up with his other arm making little "ooo-ooo me, me!" noises. I know he's running with John Kerry, but it feels like that what John Edwards would really like is a little time in an isolated cabin so he and John Kerry could just cuddle and talk about their feelings.

On the other hand it's clear Dick Cheney really doesn't need George Bush and looks at him more like a partner than the #1 guy. But something struck me the more I watched (it was like a car accident, I couldn't stop watching for fear I'd miss some decapitated limbs or gray matter spattered about...) was the Cheney reminded me of someone. The more I watched, the more I felt like it was eerily familiar, and then it struck me: Dick Cheney is Mr. Potter from "It's a Wonderful Life."

As if I needed any other reason to dislike this entire election process, one of the VP's is the guy who tried to screw Jimmy Stewart--JIMMY STEWART!--out of his father's savings and loan. Who would want to hurt ol Jimmy or the good folks of Bedford Falls? I mean, I know Uncle Billy has his problems with the bottle, but c'mon.

Started and finished (!?!) a new song. Not sure if it'll make the album yet, but I'll keep ya posted...

-Joe

Well, two bits of stuff today for you faithful in Mammyland. First, not for the faint of heart, Rex Havoc sent this to me (although rumor has it a certain Mr. Josh had his hands in introducing it). It's the most horrible, most painfully funny thing I've ever seen. That's right, it's plastic-wrap fetish stories about, of all people, Roy Orbison. I am sooooooooo not making this up. Check out the haiku section (again, not making it up...) for a good laugh while dry heaving. I certainly hope these folks realize that poor Roy has passed on. If not, well, it's too horrible to even consider.

Please, don't read this if you think I'm kidding. I don't want letters from angry parents or folks scarred for life for reading what they think to be some twisted ruse. God help us all.

Secondly, I got this little tidbit o' joy in the mail. Seems the last place I sent out the "novel packet" (usually consisting of the first chapter, "Dinnertime," and a cover letter/synopsis) was finally reviewed and turned into recycling scrap paper. (For an example of what not to do, check out this earlier entry listed under "Publishings Triumph of the Will") On the back of the form letter I found this:



Now, maybe it's just there thing to throw a little encouragement to the rabble, but I'd like to take it as a sign that there are people in this world who "get it." Even if it may not be the life-changing tome that the world may be looking for (because, you know, the world is stupid...) but on a preliminary skim "All Things Right and Beautiful" is at least fun. I think the more of it people read the more they'll see past the glib slyness and see something a bit more appreciable, but for now, fun'll do. At least it's something I can put on the back book cover, right?

So I soldier on, trying to decide what the next move(s) should be and plugging away at any number of projects in the meantime... and trying to remove the image of Roy Orbison in shrink wrap from my head.
God help us... every one.
We need it.

-Joe

For a work weekend, I feel like I've got a freakish amount done. Hung wit' my boy Rex Havoc and his sidekick, Josh the boy wonder (I kid, of course. Josh has to be at least 22...) debated the relative greatness of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and finished the story I've been threatening to do for a while--now titled "The Great Despiser." That and I worked all weekend.

Now I've gotten some speculation on the last post (the secret identity of the one known as JLA/JLS/JLA-S/WTF) and I promise you, until my dying day, there will not be a painfully self-aware weepy post on this blog. I might be self-involved, egomaniacal and narcissistic, but even I know not to beat a dead horse. Just to put your mind at ease. Feel better? Good.

Now, I've been mulling something over. I've taken a look at everything I've done to this point writing-wise and think there just might be enough for a compilation of some sorts. It would be a ways down the road ("All Things Right and Beautiful" is still at the top of the heap, priority-wise). I've been thinking of making it a kind of Joe-Mammy.com presents: short stories kinda thing. Thoughts? Discuss.

Here's a little creative bit of something for you guys to enjoy until next time:

The kid was kicking the back of the seat again.

"Are we there yet? I'm hot."

"Roll down your window."

"I want to be there now."

"Well, we're not."

"How much longer is it going to be?"

"A while."

"How long is that?"

"I'll tell you when we're there."

"But how looooooong..." accompanied by a couple rhythmic kicks to the back of the seat for emphasis.

I fiddled with the rear view mirror. Kids were always the worst for that. Most people would sit back and try and talk and rationalize or fish for information, but kids were just bored. There's something about scope and importance that is lost on them. Probably just as well.

"Is my mom gonna be there?"

"Maybe later."

"What about my gramma?"

"Maybe later."

"Who'll be there sooner?"

I paused for a moment. I'd had people who had wailed from grief and those who cried for joy and now I had this.

"Probably your gramma."

"Why?"

"I'm guessing."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know."

"Why would you guess gramma?"

"Because."

There gets to be a point where you really wish you had a radio or something to turn on--some way to pretend like you don't hear them. You start to lose interest in their stories after a while. When I started everything seemed so new and interesting--you met all kinds from the dirtiest sinners to the humblest saints and everyone would have thoughts and feelings and I cared about them. Now, it's just a job. I've heard it all before and what I haven't heard I usually can guess. When it all comes down to it, I don't care about their wives or their pets or their kids or what they had or what they did, I'm just trying to get from point A to point B so I can start all over again.

It's really quite silly. I don't interact or mingle or dawdle not because I want to get it all done--there will always be more, I'm just tired of doing it. Somedays I wish I could just stop and get out and not come back, but everyone has their role and their place and at the end of the day I know where I belong regardless of whether I like it.

"Are you mad at me?"

"What? No."

"You never say nothin'."

"I'm thinking."

"About what?"

"Grown up stuff."

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Why does it have to take so long?"

"No idea."

"Charon?"

"What?"

"Is it going to be nice there?"

"Yeah, it's nice."

"Charon?"

"What?"

"How much longer?"

-Joe

I'm in a rare mood this evening. If I had to describe it, it would be part contemplative, part bemused and a good chunk mellow.

Now, I'm no big political guy, but I did manage to see about 2 minutes of the Big Presidential Debate Episode One: The Phantom Menace (basically during Milwaukee's at-bat's during the Cards rather unnerving loss at home...) and let me make some very basic observations:

1) If a candidate utters the words "global warming" everything afterwards is refuse. If anyone for one second believes any mainstream candidate gives two craps about "global warming" then there's a guy in South America with a jug of Kool-Aid with your name on it. And the fact they mention it at all means they are pandering to someone's minuscule political ideology that, as was mentioned before, they could give two craps about.

2) Hey, the Miss America Pageant got rid of the talent portion, perhaps the Debates should pick it up. Let's face it, you won't get a straight meaningful answer out of a beauty pageant contestant and you ain't a-gonna get much of one out of a politician. Might as well bust out the baton-twirling and trampoline jumping, at least then there will be another category to judge the candidates on, right? Perhaps next election we could add the evening wear and swimsuit categories (20% of the total score) and maybe a big production dance number to kick it off with. Hell, I'd watch it.

and
3) Everyone seems concerned about sending our troops mixed messages. For example, if we told them to blow up a building and kill everyone trying to protect it and then later told them to fix said building and then protect it... Wait, that came out wrong. Be pro-war or anti-war, but I seriously doubt that internal structure of the military will be thrown into confusion if a rich white man is elected to the office instead of, well, a rich white man. It's a bad argument. It's a silly argument. Silly like peeing into the wind. Silly and smelly and wet.

Anyway, I got that out of my system, now onto the other stuff. I've continued work on the as-yet-untitled sci-fi story. Maybe will even get it finished tonight. The finish line is in sight, in either case. It's been fun. It's nice to have things go well sometimes. I don't mind fighting through a chapter of something or a drum/bassline for a song or getting the dogs to do something I tell them to, but when it just kinda flows it's hard to beat. It kind of frames all the struggles and conflicts and frustrations really well. I may not have all the finer points of what I try to do nailed down, but I'm getting better and the fact that somethings are coming easier now is just proof that I'm learning to walk again. It's been a long time, and it's been ugly and bloody and bloody ugly, but it's starting to feel almost normal again.

Which brings me to the contemplative part (believe it or not, that last section was the mellow one with the debate thing being, by deduction, bemused...) I think I do this every fall, maybe it's the seasons, but I remember some of the people of my past, and usually one in particular. I think I pretty much hate her now, which is progress. Sometimes some people need to be hated, maybe not categorically, but there gets to be a point where ugliness is no longer endearing and selfishness stops being a mutual intoxication. That's almost poetic, ain't it? In either case, let us raise our glasses in remembrance of JLA (or JLS nowadays, I guess, or perhaps JLA-S, or should we just settle on WTF?) it was good, it was great, it was catastrophic in that Godzilla beating the hell out of Tokyo kinda way and, in the end, it was a past date coupon--trivial in its inception and obsolete by design.
To you JLA, go to hell and Godspeed.

-Joe