Saturday, January 21, 2012

Wherein I leave the world to defend itself against a newfound menace. (POP!Best!: Hot Extras)



Today's Hot Extra comes from the video for Fun.'s song We Are Young, which is only an okay song:




As an anthem, it doesn't have the same power as, say, Wavin' Flag or anything, but it's still better than Pumped Up Kicks, in the ranking of anthems/hot songs. If it matters to you, apparently the video is supposed to be an allegory of losing one's virginity, if comments on Youtube are correctly interpreting it.

As for the girl, I'm not exactly sure who she is. The question Who is the girl in the We Are Young video was asked on Yahoo! Answers, and the answers:

She's the image of porn star Lindsey Strutt.

Look at the video info. I LOVe fun. Omg im seeing them in march


Show why we are ranked about 375th in the world in terms of intelligence and productivity. Seriously, why log in to provide an answer if you don't know it?

Also: who knows what porn stars look like by heart?

So instead, I did a Google Image search of that picture up there to see what happens with that, but it was taking forever to load the image, so I gave up and instead watched this video of what happens when you do a Google Image search of a transparency, and then search that, and so on, recursiving yourself back to the dawn of time, or something:

Search by Image, Recursively, Transparent PNG, #1 from kingcosmonaut3000 on Vimeo.



Pretty cool stuff.

By that time, my image search had loaded and given me these results:


And if you look closely you'll see that some of those results are robots of some sort, and clicking that image led me to a site written entirely in a foreign language that featured pictures of robot action figures and umbrellas:



But they're scary foreign umbrellas, not good God-fearing American umbrellas, so I got really worried about what my search results might lead me to. Could I, by trying to figure out who this girl was, accidentally uncover some sort of Chinese plot to invade us with nonwaterproofed robots that require umbrellas to protect them from the rain, umbrellas which would (naturally) be equipped with pull-out swords?

I mean, if that's the case, don't I have a duty to try to figure out what that site says so that I can spread the word about the Swordfighting Chinese Robot Invasion, since Ron Paul's campaign literature doesn't mention that enough already?

So I was fully prepared to learn Mandarin Chinese and translate that page, but two things happened:

(v) I thought "What if that girl's not even 18? That makes this the creepiest possible way to spend a Saturday morning." and

(brown) Mr Bunches announced that he wanted to go play skee-ball, which sounded pretty fun to me.






Thursday, January 19, 2012

Thursday Scramble! Lesbian Zombies Are Taking Over The World! (NSFW)

This is actually chapter 23; to begin the story at the beginning, click here. Or, to download the entire story in book form for free, click here.

WARNING: This scene is graphic!

Rachel, after awakening from her zombie state, fell in love with Bridget, who through the magic of a time warp, gave birth to their daughter Harper. Now, having been disintegrated by Harper to save her from the Bubbles, Rachel has been captured by Bridget's dad. No, that doesn't explain anything, which is why you should read the story.



"Let go of me," I said.

He pushed me back on the bed, his leering face only inches from mine. "No," he breathed. "Do you know what I've been through? I've literally been to Hell, died, had my body reconstructed into this monstrosity," and he pointed down at himself, "All to search for what is rightfully mine."

He paused.

"You."

Another pause, as he loomed over me.

"You, you are mine."

"I got that," I told him, trying to sound braver than I was feeling. He was lying on top of me and was heavier than I felt I could move.

"I created you, Rachel. Not literally. I did not myself carve up the women who would become your parts. I did not myself go and kidnap you from that concert. I did not drag your unconscious body down into the cellar where that mad idiot works doing things only he can do. I did not remove your chip and I did not pick out the limbs that would become the new you and then sew them together into this remarkably sexy package, binding them seamlessly by calling on energy from in between the dimensions."

He looked down at the stump of my left arm.

"Except for that one. I picked out that one, and that one in particular was the one that belonged to me." He stared back into my eyes and then put one of his hands, the one with the delicate nails, onto my breast, began kneading it and pulling it, roughly.

"Do you want to know why?" he asked.

"Don't touch me, please," I managed to whisper.

He took his hand and pushed harder against my breast, and I felt a cold sweat break out. Shifting his weight, he pressed his knee into my stomach, just below my ribcage.

"Don't tell me what to do, you lesbian zombie whore," he said, and my blood stopped in my veins at the threat in his voice.

With a tiny twitch of his weight, he pumped his knee into me. My breath whooofed out of me and tears sprang to my eyes and I gasped. He pinched my breast and then punched me in the face.

"Stop it!" Bridget yelled. I couldn't see her. I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath as my legs were roughly pushed apart.

"You don't know what resources went into creating you, all to have a body that could hold on to that hand and all because that hand was the final ingredient in controlling the thousands of slaves we created," Bridget's dad said.

"Don't do this, Daddy!" Bridget yelled again.

"SHUT HER UP!" Bridget's dad roared and punched me in the face again. Before I could even catch my breath he pushed his knee into my stomach again and I gasped again, feeling emptied of air entirely. His hands were pushing in between my thighs and I wanted to fight him, I did, but I couldn't even catch my breath and my lungs were so empty it caused me actual pain inside my chest.

I heard a crack of metal on a head and Bridget screamed and The Me's voice said "Don't do that!" and there was a scuffle sound as Bridget's dad's hand pushed into me and I tried to fight and he said:

"Don't fight me. You have lost the one thing you were created to keep and since this body belonged to others before it became your demon soulless shell, you shouldn't care what I do to it." He pushed his knee down again and my body felt like it was turned inside out as I struggled to breath. He punched the side of my head and I saw stars.

"I would kill you, but I need the body alive. I must make sure you understand never to oppose me again," he said, and viciously raked his nails over my inner thigh. I would have screamed but I couldn't even suck in air, as he was keeping his knee pushed into my stomach now.

I began to black out.

I felt his hands in me, inside my thighs and on my breasts and one pushing into my mouth and the room went all spinny and then a voice crackled through an intercom:

"It's not here!"

Bridget's dad stopped staring at my pussy and turned his terrible face back to look at mine. Through blurred tunnel vision, I saw him purse his lips.

"That is very bad for you," he said. "But worse for your lovers."

He punched me again in the face, and said: "Kill them."

Monday, January 16, 2012

Now, I want some of ALL of these candies. (Off The Top Of My Head)


The other day, reader Anna Carrera and I mixed it up a bit on Twitter because she said that she loved Raisinets; as a firm backer of Boston Baked Beans, I took offense to the notion that something could best my beloved candy. Then, today, because I am theoretically working from home, I got to thinking, and what I thought, in order was:

I would like some Boston Baked Beans.

Come to think of it, I would like some French Burnt Peanuts.

Now that I ponder it, I'm kind of weird.
With that, I started trying to think of all the kind-of-obscure candies I'd ever liked and decided that I'd do a list of them, because you deserve to be constantly updated on whatever it is that crosses my mind. So here is the

Off The Top Of My Head List Of Kind Of Weird, Obscure Candies I Love:

Boston Baked Beans.
French Burnt Peanuts
Pop Rocks
Pixy Sticks
Chocolate Key Limes
Those little brown peanut-butter candies that come wrapped in wax paper at Halloween.
Charleston Chews
Bun
Chick-O-Sticks
Zero Bars
Hot Buttered Popcorn Jelly Belly Jellybeans
Nibs, but only the black licorice kind
Circus Peanuts
Bit O'Honey
Zotz

And there was a thing that was like caramel and nougat spiraled together on a stick and it was a square and I can't think of what it was called and it's killing me to not know, and I went so far as to ask Sweetie but she doesn't know and Google was no help, and yeah, I know I'm not supposed to Google things for these lists but what're you going to do, call the Internet cops?

Also, I just found them. They were
Slap Stix. Turns out they have banana in them.

I asked Sweetie if she wanted to do a list, but she just got a weird look in her face, one that seemed to say something like "What in God's name am I married to?" only I'm sure that's not what it was really saying.


Saturday, January 14, 2012

Bacon double cheeseburgers also interfere with my ability to determine what is, or is not, a science. (Awesome Covers Of Already Awesome Songs)

I didn't exactly fit the mold of a typical fan of The Cure back in the 1980s, although at one point I did have spiked hair on only one side of my head. It's hard to be goth and grim when you're fat, I suppose. Doesn't quite work.

Nonetheless, I loved The Cure, and still love The Cure, even though I'm no longer angst-ridden as I was back then (for no reason whatsoever, I should add. I was angst-ridden about being a superprivileged suburban kid), and that brings me to Tanya Donnelly & Dylan At The Movies' cover of The Lovecats,



which cranks the theatricality of that song up to 11 and makes it into almost a performance art piece, thereby making this song less accessible than ever and further marking just how far away from the mainstream I am.

Which would be enough to feel angsty about, if I were still the angsty type, but it's hard to be angsty when my life is going so well and I'm full of the bacon double cheeseburger I got from Sonic today.

Bacon double cheeseburger cancels out angst. It's science. Or math. Maybe geography. Is that a thing?

Bacon cupcakes are the only thing that'll cheer me up about this news.

This is a Sponsored post written by me on behalf of Walgreens for SocialSpark. All opinions are 100% mine.

I thought I’d take a moment and do one of those off-the-top-of-my-head lists of things.  Today it’s

The List Of All The Things I Like About Our “Health Care” “System.”

So there’s…

Um…

Maybe…

Okay, I’ve got it: Bacon Cupcakes.  Don’t tell me that’s not part of the health care system.  It probably is, given how screwed up health care is in this country.

And the latest screwing-up of a necessary component of any advanced civilization (i.e., “health care”)? The insane demand for profits by a middleman company that is at the heart of the Walgreens and Express Script dispute.

Express Scripts is this company that does nothing and creates nothing and provides no meaningful services.  It is a Profit Troll, a company that exists because it can, not because it should.  What it does, to the extent it does anything but drain our society of resources, is act as the middleman between drugstores and health insurance companies.

And what Express Scripts, Profit Troll, does recently is demand ever greater concessions from companies like Walgreen’s; the latest round of contract negotiations between the two saw Express Scripts (Whose profits grow at 2x the rate of other industry companies) demanding that Walgreens take huge losses and give unilateral control over things like naming what’s a generic drug to Express Scripts.

And in the end, Walgreen’s couldn’t do that, so Express Scripts (as so many “health care” companies/Profit Trolls do) put profits ahead of health and has no deal with Walgreen’s.

The upshot is Walgreen’s customers who are Express Scripts members may now have to go farther away to get prescriptions at other drug stores: all Walgreen’s and some Duane Reeds are affected. And they’ll probably pay higher prices.

One particular group will almost certainly pay higher prices: Military families. Express Scripts contracts with Tricare, which provides insurance to military families. Walgreen’s offered to guarantee the lowest prices in the country to Tricare, and Express Scripts said no, because Express Scripts likes profits more than it likes than our military.

So with all that going on, two questions remain:

Can you prove that bacon cupcakes aren’t part of the health care system?

And what can you do?

The answer to the second question is: join Walgreens Prescription Savings Club

http://www.walgreens.com/pharmacy/psc/psc_overview_page.jsp

For January, you can do that at a discount: $10 per family in ($5 for one person), and you get discounts on 8,000 different brand-name medications, low prices on generics, Walgreen’s discounts on flu shots, pet scripts, nebulizers and other things. Members also get bonuses for using other Walgreen’s services, like photofinishing, so you can continue to save on medications and still do one-stop shopping at your local pharmacy.

And you can show your support for the companies that are trying to do the right thing: Pick sides, like me:  Stick up for Walgreen’s: Like Walgreens on Facebook and follow Walgreens on Twitter (@Walgreens), and help make things better.

Visit Sponsor's Site

A Random Number Of Words About "Fright Night" (Movies)(Random Number Of Words)

(What's this about? Click here.)

720 Words About “Fright Night.”

We watched the remake of Fright Night on Christmas Eve, as is our habit: every year since the first year we did this, we have watched a horror movie of sorts on Christmas Eve as our family movie, with the sole exception being 2010, when we watched The Other Guys, which was not in any sense a horror movie unless you count the fact that it begins with two men jumping to their death horribly, which is kind of funny to think about in the sense that it’s not funny at all that two men jumped to their death in a comedy and we called that a comedy while in Fright Night, which is a horror movie, we don’t actually see anyone die except [SPOILER ALERT!] McLovin’, who is turned into a vampire early on and who I’m pretty sure dies of being decapitated later on even though he didn’t have to because the end result of the movie is that everyone is cured of being a vampire.

Here’s your very-spoilery plot of the movie: A single mom is raising a kid who has inexplicably become popular and gotten a superhot girlfriend:

over the summer, and like everyone who suddenly becomes popular, the newly-popular kid has problems that geeks like me can barely understand, in that he doesn’t want to have sex with his superhot (and, they kind of hint, slutty) girlfriend




and also the guy who just moved in next door is not just Colin Farrell, whose name, it turns out, isn’t even kind of spelled like ferret, although it seems it should be, but also a vampire.



What really jumped out about this movie to both Sweetie and I, as we watched it on Christmas Eve (remember?) while the Babies! Slept in their room: Man, Colin Ferrell doesn’t even try to hide that he’s a vampire, does he? The movie jumps right in with a bunch of vampire-y stuff and about halfway through it Colin The Vampire is not just slinking around trying to be creepy, he’s ripping up gas lines in the backyard to blow up the house (because he can’t come in as he hasn’t been invited, see, so if he blows up the house, then he can just eat them all, a plan Edward Cullen would have never moped his way into thinking up.)

I do not remember the original Fright Night very well, although I’m sure I saw it. Why I’m so sure I saw it, I don’t know, as I haven’t seen practically any of the iconic 80s movies that everyone my age talks about loving. I spent the 80s reading sci-fi books and comics and being unpopular, and not the kind of unpopular that leads one to get a superhot and kind of slutty girlfriend. The kind of unpopular that leads one to, 25 years later, watch Fright Night and think, of the scant few high-school scenes, “High school was not like that” but secretly worry that, yes, it was, for everyone else.

Beyond Colin Ferrell imprisoning strippers (the movie’s set near Vegas, which kind of confirms what I secretly think about people who live around Vegas) and trying to molest teen boys, Fright Night doesn’t offer much: There’s a half-hearted attempt to throw some mythology into it (Vampires are dirt-dwellers, or something dumb) and the de rigeur self-referential thing horror movies have to do because Scream existed once (a vampire killer stages a Vegas show about killing vampires but he doesn’t really, unless he does really, kill vampires.) There is a car chase, a cameo appearance by Vampire From 80s Fright Night, a not-so-great fight in the Hall of the Vegas Vampire Killer, but the end result is entertaining enough to pass.

And, in the end, the teenage boy has his slutty girlfriend turned into a vampire and has an excuse to actually not sleep with her:


but he comes up with a plan to save everyone by lighting himself on fire and hugging Colin The Vampire to death, which really happens in the movie and which causes all the people Colin made vampires to become not vampires anymore, and so everyone is as happy as can be expected.

Except for McLovin’, who they decapitated and who is still dead at the end of the movie.

A Random Number Of Words About... the Introduction And List Of All Reviews!


370 words about "Oculus," by Michael Offutt

283 words about "The Possession"

71 words about "The Many Lives Of Yelena Moulin"

720 Words About "Fright Night."

222 Words About "The Avengers"

57 Words About The Bacon Sundae From Burger King

58 Words About "The Dark Knight Rises."

72 Words about "Plants vs. Zombies." 

320 Words about "Phineas & Ferb"

Those of you who follow my 38,000,000,000 ...howmanyzeroesinazillion...000 blogs know that I used to do something I called the "Rum Punch Review," which were extended book reviews that explored not just the books but anything that came to mind while reading or writing about them.

Then I got bored with that.

And then I tried to write a 500-word short story that ballooned into 58 pages and while that story is probably the greatest story ever written and will make you laugh and make you cry and make you do long division in your head which will make you doubt your answer, it's also not really a short story.

And I've tried from time to time to write other reviews -- like Indie Book Reviews and Random Blog Reviews -- but I've never really gotten into the "movie" or "book" or "thing" reviewing world as a regular thing.

Until now: I've read so much phenomenal stuff lately, and seen so many movies that deserved comments, and found so many podcast... and ... you get the picture... that I'm going to start reviewing them, and the twist, to make it interesting, is that each of my reviews will be a random number between 1 and 1,000 -- I'll go to Random.org, get a random number assigned, and write exactly that many words about the subject.

For no particular reason. Just to see if I can do it. (In case you didn't know, this is my new experiment this year: hitting an exact target of words. Like Ezra Pound, who [possibly mythically] wrote a sonnet a year before he decided to write free verse, I am going to do this as an exercise to keep writing fun and interesting for me.]

This'll be fun. Until I get bored.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

The Best Worst Story: An Ongoing TBOE Investigation (Books, and Other Smarty-Pants Things)



Part 3 of my Pulitzer-prize mentioning investigation into what makes a good, or bad, book. Part 1 is here, part 2 is here.

Today: Do you have to call a novel "a novel?"


Author/Secret Agent Patrick Dilloway, who prompted this investigation by posting what he said might be the worst story ever, has written thirty-one different books, by my count. His latest (or latest that I know of) is called Back To Life, and I am in the (very slow) process of reading and reviewing it, but I keep getting sidetracked from that process by (D) Other stuff and (2.7) the fact that every time I start to read it get caught up in the question of what makes a book truly good or truly bad and so I start to deconstruct books and this time the question on my mind is what I started the post with: why call a novel "a novel?"

I started thinking this because I am putting the finishing touches on my own next book -- details soon -- and when I started writing that one, four years ago (!), I put the words "a novel" after the title.

I didn't at the time know why I did that, but I do now, after thinking about it and investigating what it means.

I didn't know what I meant by that at first because as I look back now, the words "a novel" didn't need to be there. I mean, the book is a work of fiction. When published, it will sit on the (virtual) fiction shelf, it will be tagged as fiction, and, when read, as I've no doubt it will be by millions of people, it will be seen as fiction, clearly, or I expect it will because in it William Howard Taft tries to convince a housewife to help expel everyone from Heaven, which is not something I've heard happened in real life.

So because I didn't know why it was there, before setting this book up to publish I deleted that little phrase, "a novel," and went on with my life, but it got me wondering: why bother saying on the cover what it is?

Only books seem to do that, when I started to think about it. You never see "Star Wars, Episode I: The Phantom Menace, A Film" or the like. U2 never released "The Joshua Tree: A Sound Recording." Picasso, so far as I know, never made "Blue Dog: A Painting."

True, movies sometimes say "A True Story" or "Based on a true story," a tagline that automatically irritates me ever since I saw The Strangers, which was a great movie about a brutal home invasion said to be "Inspired by true events," only the true events that inspired this movie were simply "a guy knocked on the director's door once and then left."



The director rejected "Girl Scout Cookies: The Movie"



Seriously: That's what happened, and he used that guy as the inspiration for what was ... was... one of the more chilling movies I'd ever seen, a movie that got that extra fillip of scary because of the thought that some of it had happened, only none of it had happened and if people got a refund for having bought that James Frey book because it was supposed to be true but wasn't, then I'm owed $2 for The Strangers.

So: Calling a book "a novel" seems to have no real point, given that while when you look at a book in isolation, it's not immediately apparent whether you're looking at a novel or a memoir or a cookbook, books aren't in isolation, they're in sections, and also, when you look at a book, while you almost certainly make a great many judgments about that book based exclusively on the cover thereby belying that old saying about books and their covers, I don't know anyone who only reads the title and then buys the book.

Everyone I know who shops for books does this, either in real life or the virtual equivalent:

(17.) They see a cover of a book they like.

(17.) They pick it up and look at the back cover (or page down and read the description, online).

(C.) They shrug and go looking for something that promises to have more sex scenes in it.

(That is why Dilloway's Back To Life, despite not having "a novel" in the title, still has marketing genius behind it; to get to the book online, you have to agree that you're over 18 because the book apparently has so many NSFW scenes in it.)

(The necessity of an early sex scene in a book is one that should be obvious: A great many terrible books-- there was a book I read once about a Tom Cruise-like star in a haunted mansion or something in Hollywood that met this criteria-- have been read all the way through because despite the fact that they were not very good books, they had a sex scene early enough that readers [not just me, necessarily but probably other people] slogged through them in hopes that at least there would be another sex scene to break up the tedium. That's why the Internet will kill reading; people used to go on reading terrible books in hopes of getting to another sex scene. When you're reading online or on a tablet, you're never more than two clicks away from porn and can give up on a terrible book faster.)

In other words, nobody says "I'm going to only read the words on the cover, and I am only interested in books that are clearly novels," so from a marketing standpoint, the words "a novel" appearing on a cover of a book appear to be completely unnecessary.

Or are they?

Does the word novel mean anything anymore? Or is it a code that is meant to appeal to a certain kind of book buyer... let's call them snobs, the kind of people who say things like "Oh, I don't really watch TV" and who eat things that originated (they think) in Eastern Europe but which are actually from a factory in North Carolina.

Here's an interesting fact, if by "interesting" you understand I mean "probably not very interesting to anyone but me": the word "novel" wasn't used to describe a book at all until the 18th century, which is clearly an error on the part of this website that I used as my source for any actual information in this post, because everything was invented in the 16th century, but let's go with it.

The idea of a novel, that site says, came from the Italian word novella, and was used to distinguish a new sort of story from the old sort of stories that humans had been telling until that point. Novels back then were primarily character-driven, 50,000+ word stories. Or, as that site puts it more academically:

The novel places more emphasis on character, especially one well-rounded character, than on plot.

Another initial major characteristic of the novel is realism--a full and authentic report of human life.

The traditional novel has:

-- a unified and plausible plot structure
-- sharply individualized and believable characters
-- a pervasive illusion of reality

Here is another "interesting" fact: Some people are paid to research things like this and do that for a living which is kind of proof, I think, too, that we have more than enough money to do things like "provide free health care to anyone and everyone" because when you live in a society where you can pay people to research novels and other people will pay to learn about that research because those other people want to go on to make their living thinking about novels you are talking about a society that has a serious amount of leisure time and leisure money, so let's get with it people, and start having the kind of country where poor people don't die in the street while we squabble about whether Mitt Romney likes to fire people. (He does.)

I don't just point out that studying novels makes our society "capable of providing health care and education" and "stopping being selfish and stupid" because I'm a jerk. (I am.) I also bring it up because novels are a sign that society is progressing: in the 18th century when novels were not actually invented because everything was invented in the 16th century, the growing middle class was (again according to that site) demanding more literature, which is funny because now we have a shrinking middle class which is demanding more Jersey Shore, although as I look at that sentence nothing is funny about it at all, so I'll move on.


They did some pretty
weird stuff in the 16th Century.




While people back then had "literature" such as autobiographies and memoirs (which for some reason people think are two different things) and biographies and romances -- romances being not Fabio-covered women swooning books but grand adventures -- and allegories, people wanted something more real, more lifelike, and so the novel was invented; according to most sources,the "first" novel ever written in English was "Le Morte d'Arthur" in 1470, which is clearly wrong on so many levels that we can go back to ignoring most sources: "Le Morte d'Arthur' is, for one thing, a collection of short stories, so it's not a novel at all and people are ninnies.

Answerbag ("Where the answers are submitted by the same people who didn't know stuff in the first place!") says Cervantes Don Quixote de La Mancha was the first "novel" as we think of it, and actually cites to something that's not Wikipedia, but that site I've been relying on says it's actually Samuel Richardson who "created the novel of character" by writing "Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded" which is a novel told through letters, sometimes called an "epistolary novel" but more often called "an annoying literary device" which didn't get any better when Nicholson Baker transformed it into the all-conversation erotic story Vox in the 20th century, although you can clearly see the trend of novels from that transformation: virtue rewarded to phone sex describes the path of all civilization (hence: Jersey Shore)


Not that the 21st Century is much better,
weird-stuff-doing-wise.



But then, too, that site I've been relying on goes on immediately to say that Henry Fielding wrote the first novel, so let's just say "Benjamin Franklin wrote the first novel" because in the United States, that's how we solve everything: attribute it to Benjamin Franklin, a fictional character if ever there was one because by now, to achieve everything Ben Franklin was to have achieved he'd have had to live 300 years and be four people, which he could clearly only do if he'd discovered the Fountain of Youth and used his vast lifespan to acquire huge amounts of wealth and build a mountaintop laboratory in the Appalachians where he discovered cloning and sent out an army of Ben Franklins to alter history from time to time, and I've just plotted out, I realize, the sequel to my previous historical novel ("John Tyler: Space President"). I'll call it "Ben Franklin: Science Warrior". Look out, George R.R. Martin, here I come with the next phase of gritty, realistic, Lord Of The Rings ripoffs.


Add a dwarf, and HBO will
be calling me in 15 minutes.


I'm getting bored with the history, as I always do. Let's fast-forward:

After novels were invented by Ben Franklin, Science Warrior, they went through a couple of phases that can be described as "18th Century: Bronte-izing the Novel and Making It Boring", with a side trip into "Charles Dickens Writes The Only Christmas Story Anyone Will Ever Hear Again" to the 20th Century Novel, which that site that I've been relying on describes as "we can't really say anything about it" (seriously) (so now people are getting paid to not be able to talk about the thing they get paid to study, so, honestly, I should be able to get a free kidney transplant) to "The Postmodern Novel", 'postmodern' being a term only academics use because "modern" means "relating to recent times" and you can't postmodern is therefore a moving target, but that site that I'm no longer relying on says that the characteristics of the postmodern novel include:

playfulness with language

experimentation in the form of the novel

less reliance on traditional narrative form

less reliance on traditional character development

experimentation with point of view

experimentation with the way time is conveyed in the novel

mixture of "high art" and popular culture

interest in metafiction, that is, fiction about the nature of fiction

Which, if you look at it closely, means that the characteristics of a postmodern novel are that it is not at all a novel.

If, that is, novels mean "character studies that are fictional but which are meant to seem very realistic" which is what I gathered a novel was (because that was what people said it was.)

So, we're back to this:

A novel is a lengthy character study meant to be highly realistic and depend more on development of character than action-driven plots, unless a novel isn't any of those things at all.

Awesome.

So why do people still put a novel on their cover? I think it has nothing to do with making sure you, the reader/buyer (as I've pointed out, book publishers are far more interested in buyers than they are readers) know that a particular book is a character-driven realistic story (unless it isn't), and more in appealing to a certain class of reader: snobs.

I say that because the other history of the novel begins with one of the single-most overrated figures of the 20th century, ranking right up there in overratedness with Kurt Cobain: Andy Warhol.



Pictured: The Death of Culture.


Andy Warhol wrote a book. He called it "a, A Novel." It was not a novel. It was, according to Wikipedia which is fine for dreck like this, a word-for-word transcription of tapes Warhol made with Ondine, and I'm so uninterested in Warholesque Boomer Art that I'm not going to look her/him/it up.

Warhol talked with Ondine for two years (presumably, not straight through, but you never know) and then transcribed it as "a, A Novel" and it got published because publishers even then were trying to kill off reading.

"a, A Novel" is not at all pretentious *where is that sarcasm emoticon when I need it?* in that ... and I'm going to quote Wikipedia directly for the full impact... it is:

Warhol's knowing response to James Joyce's Ulysses [and] was intended as an uninterrupted twenty-four hours in the life of Ondine, an actor who was famous mostly as a Factory fixture, Warhol film Superstar and devoted amphetamine user

That is to say: She was famous for being around Warhol, who was famous for being around people like her. Also: "knowing response to James Joyce's Ulysses"? I've never read Ulysses and don't intend to because I was already burned when people said to read David Foster Wallace's unreadable garbage, but I do know that it's not worthy of a response.

Wikipedia goes on:

A taped conversation between Warhol and Ondine, the book was actually recorded over a few separate days, during a two-year period. The book is a verbatim printing of the typed manuscripts and contains every typo, abbreviation and inconsistency that the typists produced. Ondine's monologues and disjointed conversations are further fragmented by Warhol's insistence on maintaining a purity of the transcriptions.

a, A Novel was the second of several publishing projects Andy Warhol produced in his lifetime. ...Warhol wanted to write a "bad" novel, "because doing something the wrong way always opens doors."
Yes, that is the excuse I use when what I turn out is terrible: "I did it on purpose because doing things badly opens doors," something that's apparently only true for Tim Tebow. Who knew that "hiring bad stenographers and then hanging around drug addicts" would get a publishing deal?

Wikipedia has more:

Four typists were employed to transcribe the Warhol/Ondine tapes. Maureen Tucker, the drummer for the Velvet Underground was an expert typist.

Emphatically, she was not, unless the previous paragraph about errors was completely wrong, which, maybe it was, if it was entered into Wikipedia by Maureen Tucker.

However, she refused to transcribe the swear words and left them out. Two high school girls were hired to work on some of the tapes. When one girl's mother heard what they were listening to she threw out the tape, losing several hours of conversation. All four hired typists transcribed the dialogue differently, some identifying the speakers, others not. The editor for a, A Novel, Billy Name, preserved the transcripts as is, with every typo and inconsistent character identification, and even moving from two column pages to single-column based on each typist's style. The final printed version was identical to the typed manuscripts

Sounds hellish, doesn't it? It gets worse:

In his glossary for the 1998 edition of a, A Novel, Victor Bockris cites Billy Name as the source for the title; "a" refers to both amphetamine use and as an homage to e.e. cummings.The title in both editions published by Grove Press in 1969 and 1998 use the a, A Novel format.

Excuse me? "An homage to e e cummings"? Which, I'll note, Wikipedia misspelled as cummings did not use punctuation in his name. (Unless he did?)

Enough. Warhol was beloved by Baby Boomers, which was enough to make him famous and to permanently warp history, the Boomers warping culture the way gravity warps space-time, and by calling "a" "a novel," Warhol, my thesis is, stamped with cultural approval the words "a novel", marking that phrase with a certain kind of cache that is meant to convey, to the buyer -- people who are swayed by the words a novel on a book cover are far more likely to be book buyers than book readers -- that the book on which the words a novel appears is in the same category of things like "documentaries mostly containing subtitles," "Saabs", "things that make me think of lower Manhattan," and "wine country", the message being: "This book will convey to your friends and associates that you are cultured and intellectual."

Lest you think I am too hard on authors who use "a novel" (because I was going to), consider this: I was going to because that particular a novel I thought had a higher literary significance than the other stuff I've written, which is not a hard mark to achieve to do when you consider that "some of the other stuff I've written" includes "a story premised on a joke about Godzilla and Jesus," but the point is that I was trying to be pretentious when I typed that (and trying not to be when I deleted it), and lest you think I am overstating the impact of putting the words a novel on the cover, consider "the Prius Effect."

The "Prius Effect" is an actual thing: It refers to the oddly-shaped Prius car, and the fact that the Prius was oddly-shaped to emphasize that it was a hybrid, which, in turn, made people who wanted to buy hybrids more likely to buy a Prius, not because they were better cars but because they were immediately recognized as green: by buying a hybrid car, you are helping the environment, but by buying a Prius, you are helping the environment and telling everyone that you are helping the environment, the latter being very important to almost everyone who wants to buy a Prius.

The "Prius Effect" means that some people put solar panels in less-than-optimal spots because it's more important to them that everyone knows they have them than that they work, and in terms of a novel means that by slapping a novel onto the cover of your book, you will ensure that potential buyers, and even some readers, of your a novel will be able to advertise to people that they are buying (and maybe even reading) a novel.

That is, when they sit in Starbucks "reading" their new book, people who look at the book will know instantly that the buyer did not buy some trashy romance or boring nonfiction book: the buyer is a serious person who is reading something that hearkens back to literary answers to James Joyce and etc. etc. something art.

In that sense, the words "a novel" are simply, now, a marketing tool, similar to putting "from Steven Spielberg" on a movie poster or "Whole grain" on a box of food: it's a meaningless code phrase meant to convey a certain association to people who don't really care about the contents but who do care about what other people think about the contents.




Thursday, January 05, 2012

I want this, and hate myself for wanting this. (Star Wars References.)

The Phantom Menace is no longer just an unfairly-maligned Star Wars prequel; it's also the raison d'etre (that's French for raisin of death) for a new line of sandwiches available to Belgians which, really? There are like four Belgians in the world, total, and Belgium is always just moments away from being downgraded from "country" to "division of Epcot Center," the way scientists downgraded Pluto because they had nothing better to do that week.

What am I getting at? A story broken by HuffPo today that Quick, which is a Belgian restaurant chain, will be offering Phantom-Menace themed burgers, including, most notably, the Dark Vador:




HuffPo wondered why the burger is called the Dark Vador, and I wondered, too.

Initially I thought it might have to do with copyright, because Lucas copyrights everything, but I was thrown off by the fact that the green burger with what appears to be Play-Doh french fries on it is a "Jedi" burger, so I figured If they can use "Jedi" they must be able to use "Darth Vader", right?

Wrong: While Lucas sued a company for using the phrase "Jedi Mind" a while back, he doesn't have a copyright on the word Jedi. From that article:

The other interesting point: Lucas doesn't actually hold a trademark on "Jedi" or "Jedi Mind." It does hold trademarks on Jedi Knight, Jedi Power Battles and Jedi Training Academy but that's not quite the same thing...

That didn't stop "Jedi Mind" the company from caving in, despite the fact that the suit seemed to have no more merit than Hayden Christensen's claim that he actually came up with the idea for USA's Royal Pains show.

But "Darth Vader" IS trademarked for everything from toy figures to children's underwear. Which doesn't clear up anything, because Quick presumably can't use an image of Darth Vader unless they had permission, so why would they get permission for that but not the name?

I assumed then that Dark Vador is what he's called in Belgium, which I figured to prove quickly by googling What do they call Darth Vader in Belgium? but that just led me to this post about someone who met Darth Vader, only it was a giant balloon Vader, which actually exists:


The Vader Balloon has its own website and is available to be booked, which means that with Quick's Dark Vador burger, we are rapidly approaching the Vadersingularity, that time when you can have an entirely-Vader themed existence.

Also: are you disappointed that Hayden Christensen turns out to be kind of a whiner in real life, too? "Padme, I want credit for inventing Rooooooyaaallll Paaaaainnnns."

Monday, January 02, 2012

Holy cow! Now I want to follow up on the last answer. What a cliffhanger! (Indie Book Review)


Today, I take a break from posting the Best of 2011 and give you 10 1/2 Questions with authors Erin O'Riordan and Tit Elingtin:

A few years back, Sweetie and I subscribed to our local paper because, as I put it "I'm afraid if I don't they'll put a mall in across the street from us and I'll be the last to know."

Turns out that fear is very real - -and in Eminent Domain, potentially fatal. After Jeff and Kendra get a potential dream house at a bargain basement price, their plans to fix it up and live the good life get hijacked by local government. At first only an annoyance, the local pols harass Jeff and make his life more difficult as he restores his house, builds his business, and deals with in-law troubles. But when the city unveils plans to turn Jeff and Kendra's home into part of an ongoing riverwalk project, Jeff's anger boils over.

Eminent Domain begins with one of the more chilling action/revenge sequences I've ever read before backtracking to show just how things got this bad... and it's based on a true story, as authors O'Riordan and Elingtin detail in discussing in some notes in the book a U.S. Supreme Court precedent that lets private developers use the government's power of condemnation for profit. I loved this book -- although it's outside of my usual genre, I found it compelling and well-written -- and recommend it to people who like their legal and revenge dramas populated by believable characters.

I sent my usual 10 1/2 questions to Erin and Tit, who are a husband-and-wife team of amazingly prolific writers-- and it turns out the story is more than just fiction.

Here's their responses:


About The Book:

1. In Eminent Domain, the chief conflict is between a man and his local government over property rights, but the main character, Jeff, seems to have conflicts with lots of other people who fall short of his ideals. Did you make a conscious effort to shape Jeff as a sort of roughneck idealist (my words?) Or did it just work out that way?

It’s the natural of my co-author, Mr. Tit Elingtin. “Roughneck idealist” is a good way to describe him. It just bled into the character.


2. The details of this story amazed me, from the discussion of the plans the town has that require (?) condemnation to the attention you pay to the backstories of the other characters. These really flesh out the story and add to the realism. How much of those details do you plan in advance, and how much is more spur-of-the-moment window dressing?

Many of the details come from life experience. We took personal experience and crafted the story from real situations. In reality, the city we live in wants to take our home. The writing of this book was a cathartic way to deal with the emotions and anxiety we have been put through by our local government. The backstory with “Lex,” in reality, was done to us by a family member.


3. One concern I had -- I'll word this carefully because I don't want to spoil the book-- was that Jeff's decision concerning the legal route he could take to challenge the city. While his decision was in keeping with his character, I felt Jeff should have made a different decision to justify his later actions. Did you have a reason for Jeff making the choice he did?

In real life, the legal route would be our choice. Within the fictional world, we wanted to go to the extreme to show the consequences of what government meddling could do in someone’s personal life. We wanted the character to just be “fed up,” with no hope. In real life, we have a tremendous amount of hope, and we will prevail if we ever go to court.


About You:

4. You wrote this book with your husband, Tit Elingtin. How do the two of you divide up the writing duties?

I get the foundation down. The book started out at 80,000 words, all of which I banged out myself, and then we edited it together to refine it. Together, we edited it 8 times, and we’re currently going through a ninth (and hopefully final) edit to be re-released February 2012.

Tit’s contribution was the whole first chapter, and he’s the killer of adverbs. He takes a paragraph and turns it into just a few words to keep the reader moving. I compare him to Ernest Hemingway.


5. Most of your writing falls in the "erotic fiction" genre, making this somewhat of a departure for you. What made you decide to write about the issue of public taking of private property?

Our personal experience with our local government – Tit is so passionate about our home, he was obsessed with what to do, and this was the best way for him to work through his emotional struggles.

6. You told the "Whipped Cream" interviewer back in 2010 that your most embarrassing moment was accidentally giving a character two different names in a book, and having that error survive all the way through publication. Is that still your most embarrassing moment?

Heavens above, I hope so.


Things I Just Feel Like Asking

7. If you could have a movie made about your life, what song would play over the opening credits?

“Survivor” by Destiny’s Child

8. 3D movies seem to mostly show they're 3D by having objects thrown directly at the camera. How would you improve 3D movies?


Tit’s answer is, “Instead of 3D glasses, 3D contact lenses.”

I’m thinking Smellovision.


9. Regardless of what flavor they might actually be in real life, what flavor do you feel white jellybeans SHOULD be. (For purposes of this question, "Pina Colada" and "Coconut" are not allowed as answers.)

Peppermint

The Impossible Question:

10. The ‘Taos Hum’ is a low-pitched sound heard in numerous places worldwide, especially in the USA, UK, and northern Europe. It is usually heard only in quiet environments, and is often described as sounding like a distant diesel engine. Since it has proven indetectable by microphones or VLF antennae, its source and nature is still a mystery.

In 1997 Congress directed scientists and observers from some of the most prestigious research institutes in the nation to look into a strange low frequency noise heard by residents in and around the small town of Taos, New Mexico. For years those who had heard the noise, often described by them as a “hum”, had been looking for answers. To this day no one knows the cause of the hum.

What do you think is causing the "Taos Hum"?

Tit says, “I suspect it may be the sound of a long-distant train, somehow amplified by the atmosphere. Their geographic location may be the spot off which the sound waves reflect. I would use the example of architecture that allows someone to be on one side of a room, 100 feet away from someone on the other side of the room whispering, and still be able to hear him or her."
And the half-question: finish, then answer, this question:

11. Neil Armstrong famously said "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind," but what most people...

…claim were humankind’s first steps on the moon were not. As Solomon said, there is nothing new under the sun. Has the human race been to the moon before? We say yes.

Eminent Domain is available on Amazon for $13.97;

it's also available as an e-reader download. Click here for more works by Erin O'Riordan.


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Interested in government? Not really, you say? That's probably because you never read Publicus Proventus, the best politics blog around. Check it out today!

Sunday, January 01, 2012

The Best Of 2011, and My Predictions For 2012 (Today: Sports!)


Today, the first of two things from 2011 that I didn't want to like or even think existed, but which ended up being The Best of those things around, this one from the category of:

SPORTS:

I don't like Bill Simmons, okay? More often than not, when I mention him on my sports blog it's to make fun of him and/or accuse him of stealing my ideas, which, to be honest, he does a lot because my ideas are awesome.

So when I first heard back in May that Bill Simmons was going to have his own website called "Grantland", news I got via a blog post on Slate which I didn't really understand, I said:
I only understand about half of that, but from what I gather, it's making fun of Bill Simmons, who deserves that because when he's funny at all it's because he copied me, and he's rarely funny. So I wholeheartedly support Tom Scocca in whatever it was he was writing about there -- and hereby forgive Tom Scocca for having himself kind of stolen my idea a while back, too.

And with that, I decided that I'd never have to read Bill Simmons again, since I never went to ESPN anymore because I'm sick of ESPN, and "NFL Today" and other sports websites; I don't really get my sports news from them at all. When I want sports news -- which is about twice a week -- I get it from a few sources, those sources having been:

1. The Dan Patrick Radio Show

2. The Sports Economist website.

3. NPR's Frank DeFord

4. Deadspin

5. Sometimes that one TV show with Colin Cowherd and Michelle Beadle, about whom I can't decide if she's hot or just sports hot, because sitting next to Colin Cowherd has to make one look better, doesn't it?


Or does it? People think that if you sit next to someone ugly you'll look better, or if you sit next to someone fat, you'll look skinnier, but as I think about it, I question that logic the same way I question the logic of going to an amusement park on a Tuesday or Wednesday because you think the lines will be shorter: if everything thought that way, Tuesday and Wednesday would be the worst days to be at the amusement park, wouldn't it? Which means you should go on Saturday, when nobody's there, except that's what we all think, so we all go on Saturday, which means...

... you can see why I never go anywhere, and instead just sit around pensively listening to Butterfly Nets by Bishop Allen.

That kind of logic isn't the same flawed logic as "let's sit by someone fat and ugly so we look skinny and pretty", which is also flawed logic, because isn't there just as much of a chance that people will look in your direction and say "Man, look at that whole group of fat, ugly people"?

I think that system only works if you are already hot/skinny, or if you want to make yourself look bad. For example, if you take a Ferrari (or, fill in the name of the car you like, or, if you don't like a car, then fill in the name of something you, personally, find beautiful/hot, like, say, Vanessa Williams or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in which the jelly is spread evenly among every bite.)

(Or, Vanessa Williams making you that PB&J. Man, that's HOT!)



Note: There is no sandwich in that picture. Also note: I am attempting to include more pictures in these posts because Michael Offutt, Author/Mincemeatarian (you're not the only one who can bestow titles, Mr Offutt) thinks I need more pictures, which I'm trying not to take as a criticism of my writing style, but how can I not? Do people go around telling [fill in name of author later, because right now all I can think about is Vanessa Williams, and that's going to seem a little obsessive if I say her again] that she needs more pictures in her work? They do not! Probably! I'm going to listen to Bishop Allen again.

Okay, I'm back. Where was I? Oh, yeah, hotness and how to improve oneself, which isn't at all what this post is about but I've vowed, in 2012, to do two things:

1. Not make any vows, and

2. Finish at least one thought this year, and

iii. Not be tied down by conventional ways of numbering things and let my imagination flow.

[stemella coeruleoalba]. Never admit up front how many items ought to be on a list.

So if you took your hot thing -- Vanessa Williams Making A Perfect PB&J being about the hottest thing anyone can imagine, so we'll go with that -- and put it among ugly things, it wouldn't look any hotter, would it? Sure, it would emphasize the hotness, as in this fictional conversation in which I, and Grumpy Bulldog, and Andrew Leon because I already mentioned Michael Offutt, Author/Higgs Boson, are sitting around having lunch:

Me: This is really weird, isn't it?

Grumpy: I hate everything, especially that girl because she looks like she might not like Kurt Vonnegut.

Andrew: I don't really have a catchy nickname for myself. Should I get one?

Michael Offutt Author/Palindrome, from off to the side: I recommend it! Also, you should have invited me! If I just mention people, they get, like 43,000 hits!

Grumpy: I hate him, now, too.

Me: Hey, is that Vanessa Williams making a PB&J sandwich over there?

Andrew Leon: I don't know, I can't see past all the fat, ugly people in the way.

Grumpy: I hate how much hotter she looks than everyone else.

Rusty Webb, in a surprise guest appearance: Vanessa, let me help you get away from those people at that table.

Michael Offutt Author/Pope Of The Church Of Ridley Scott: I would never have done that to anyone, unless by doing so I could get a sneak peek of Prometheus.

And... I officially have no readers anymore, correct?

On with thinking stuff about other stuff!

The other thing standing near a group of people can do is make you look bad. If I, in that hypothetical lunch scene above, had done to stand near Vanessa Williams, I (a) would have been violating both restraining orders, and (ochre) would have been exposed for being completely not hot -- my lack of hotness becoming extremely apparent in comparison to extreme hotness, the way you don't really notice how white that one shirt is in the detergent commercial until they put it next to the dingy shirt washed with that offbrand soap that your mom uses because she hates you.

Which brings me back to Michelle Beadle:



Hot? Or Sports Hot?

Which in turn brings me back to Bill Simmons and Grantland, which is what this post is about, remember.

I only read Grantland, originally, out of spite, to see just how bad it was and laugh at it and feel superior to Bill Simmons in the way that a guy who has his own sports blog with 0.03 readers can feel superior to a guy who makes his living watching sports and saying stuff about it.

And then I liked it. From the Bad Quarterbacks league to the shout-outs to pop culture to the for some reason Chuck Klosterman writing on it to the fact that they put a 2011 Song Round Up on the site that made no references to sports whatsoever to the fact that they had a great article about how basketball owners have their priorities all wrong... Grantland really stepped up sports writing and managed to do it with a mix that somehow manages to be sports-geeky with references to stats and fourth-string-wideouts and stuff nobody but nerds cares about but also in a way that manages to be fun.

Reading Grantland is, to me, what would happen if the smartest kid in high school got injected with Captain America serum, only the Captain America serum made him funny and interested in sports, a little, too, and so he began writing about it and posted it on a website with a super-pretentious name only somehow it all worked out and made it interesting, and also, let's pretend this metaphor never happened, it was just my way of working in a reference to Captain America, which I watched last night and which was pretty good, except that if Captain America's metabolism really worked at 4 times the rate of ordinary humans', he would need to eat at least 8,000 calories a day, and likely more considering how hard he's working at all other times, so his food bills would be enormous.

And, on Captain America, too, after it was over, Sweetie asked me "How could he be alive after all these years?"

And I said: "Well, you have to assume that he crashed into the ocean and froze pretty quickly, and since it was explained that his body could heal itself, he was in suspended animation with his body healing itself, too," and then I added "Or, more appropriately: something-something-something-science, he's healed!" which is what all science is about in comic books, anyway.

And that is why I like Grantland: because this post, which is about Grantland, also manages to be about how hot things are and PB&Js and Captain America and science. I'm not a sports junkie; I don't care much about the Xs and Os and stats unless you manage to make it interesting to me. Grantland manages to do that: be interesting, plus plus be smart about sports so that I can learn things and make sense of it.

So, in conclusion:

*. The numbering system you use is heterofascist; free your mind and the body will follow.
17. Grantland is The Best Sports Whatever Of 2011.
3. Michelle Beadle is not as hot as Vanessa Williams.

PRIOR BESTS of 2011:

Music
.

Celebrities

Books (And Other Smarty-Pants Things)













Santa, Godzilla and Jesus Walk Into A Bar...


Nick, a nearly-failed UFO maker, finds a tiny brass trumpet lying in a gutter – moments before a dead body drops from the sky and he’s chased down the street and into a major adventure by Sexy Cop. Before he knows it, Nick is doing battle with Wenceslas’ Xmas Machine, helped by Angels, the Secret Army Under The Bed, and a man in a robe, as attempts at world domination mix in with Nick’s attempts to convince Sexy Cop that they are soulmates.


Santa, etc… is a hilariously offbeat, thrill-a-minute otherworldly adventure that attempts to answer the question “What is the most ridiculous possible explanation for Christmas as we know it.” Said one person: “If Douglas Adams had teamed up with Robert Heinlein to come up with a story to make everyone forget A Christmas Carol, they’d have simply ended up copying this story.” (That person was the author of this story, but still… he said it.)


Go buy the book on your Kindle
.

Available on Amazon as a paperback; click here for that version.