Reprinted without commentary from Alexandra Walker's TomPaine.com article at
http://www.tompaine.com/uncommonsense/index.php#5338
Because this says as much as needs to be said.
The White House is feeling the heat over Iraq and Guantanamo, so Karl Rove tries to change the subject. With public disapproval about Iraq growing and more lawmakers willing to step up and criticize Bush's war and human rights record, Rove reaches into his diversionary bag of tricks and pulls out the worn, dog-eared accusation that liberals are pansies. In ridiculing groups like MoveOn for counseling "moderation and restraint" in the days following 9/11, Rove must never have expected a 9/11 widow to come to the wimpy liberals' defense.
At 30, Kristen Breitweiser lost her husband in the World Trade Center attacks. She says the attacks left her with "no faith in my government." The tragedy transformed her into a citizen activist—-well-known for her efforts with the other "Jersey Girls " to hold the government accountable for investigating 9/11. Four years later, Breitweiser has become the most credible kind of advocate for sanity after 9/11—-she has the authority as someone who has befallen great tragedy to advocate against policies based on revenge and fear.
And she is no less than outraged about the choices the United States has made since the attacks. I heard her speak recently about these choices at an awards ceremony where she was honored for "truth-telling." She condemned the Bush administration's choice to pass the PATRIOT Act rather than open up and restore trust in government. And the choice to invade oil-rich countries instead of pursuing alternative energy resources to decrease our dependency on foreign oil. To read her powerful speech, click here . [EDIT: sorry no link; you can find it in the original on TomPaine.com --MWS]
Yesterday, on HuffingtonPost, Breitweiser unleashed on Rove for exploiting 9/11 once again for political gain. Here are some excerpts.
-- Now Karl, a question for you, since you seem to be the nation's self-styled sensei with regard to 9/11: Is Usama Bin Laden still important? Lately, your coterie of friends seems to be giving out mixed messages. Recall that in the early days, Bin Laden was wanted “dead or alive.” Then when Bin Laden slipped through your fingertips in Tora Bora, you downgraded his importance. We were told that Bin Laden was a "desperate man on the run,” and a person that President Bush was not "too worried about". Yet, whenever I saw Bin Laden's videos, he looked much too comfortable to actually be a man on the run. He looked tan, rested, and calm. He certainly didn't look the way I wanted the murderer of almost 3,000 innocent people to look: unkempt, panicked, and cowering in a corner.
-- Karl, I mention Bin Laden because recently Director of the CIA, Porter Goss, has mentioned that he knows exactly where Bin Laden is located but that he cannot capture him for fear of offending sovereign nations. Which frankly, I find ironic because of Iraq--and let's just leave it at that. But, when you say that “moderation and restraint” don't work in fighting terrorists, maybe you should share those comments with Mr. Goss because he doesn't seem to be on the same page as you. Unless of course, Porter is holding out to announce that Bin Laden is in Iran. (Karl, I want Bin Laden brought to justice, but not if it means starting a war with Iran - a country that possesses nuclear weaponry. The idea of nuclear fallout in any quadrant of the world is just not an acceptable means to any ends, be it capturing Bin Laden, oil or drugs. But, Afghanistan and Bin Laden are old news. Iraq is the story of today. And of course, it appears that Iran will be the story of next month. But, I digress.)
-- More to the point, Karl when you say, “Conservatives saw the savagery of the 9/11 attacks and prepared for war,” what exactly did you do to prepare for your war? Did your preparations include: sound intelligence to warrant your actions; a reasonable entry and exit strategy coupled with a coherent plan to carry out that strategy; the proper training and equipment for the troops you were sending in to fight your war? Did you follow the advice of experts such as General Shinseki who correctly advised you about the troop levels needed to actually succeed in Iraq? No, you didn't.
-- It has always been America's policy that you only place soldiers' lives in harm's way when it is absolutely necessary and the absolute last resort. When you send troops into combat you support those troops by providing them with proper equipment and training. Why didn't you do that with the troops that you sent into Iraq? Why weren't their vehicles armored? Why didn't they have protective vests? Why weren't they properly trained about the rules of interrogation? And Karl, when our troops come home — be it tragically in body bags or with missing limbs — you should honor and acknowledge their service to their country. You shouldn't hide them by bringing them home in the dark of night. Most importantly, you should take care of them for the long haul by giving them substantial veteran's benefits and care. To me, that is being patriotic. To me, that is how you support our troops. To me, that is how you show that you know the value of a human life given for its country.
-- For the record Karl, does Iraq have any connection to the 9/11 attacks? Because, you and your friends with your collective “understanding of 9/11” seem to be contradicting yourselves about the Iraq-9/11 connection, too. First, we were told that we went to war with Iraq because it was linked to the 9/11 attacks. Then, your rationale was changed to "Iraq has WMD". Then you told us that we needed to invade Iraq because Saddam was a "bad man". And now it turns out that we are in Iraq to bring them "democracy."
-- Of course, the Downing Street memo clarifies many of these things, but for the record Karl: Iraq had nothing to do with 9/11; there were few terrorists in Iraq before our invasion, but now Iraq is a terrorist hot-bed. America had the sympathy and support of the whole world before Iraq. Now, thanks to your actions, we find ourselves hated and alienated by the rest of the world. Al Qaeda's recruitment took a nose-dive after the 9/11 attacks, but has now skyrocketed since your invasion of Iraq; and most importantly, nearly 2,000 U.S. soldiers have been killed because of your war in Iraq. These facts speak for themselves. (And, they speak very little about effectively winning any war on terror.)
-- Karl, you say you “understand” 9/11. Then why did you and your friends so vehemently oppose the creation of a 9/11 Independent Commission? Once the commission was established, why did you refuse to properly fund the Commission by allotting it only a $3 million budget? Why did you refuse to allow access to documents and witnesses for the 9/11 Commissioners? Why did we have to fight so hard for an extension when the Commissioners told us that they needed more time due to your footdragging and stonewalling? Why didn't you want to cooperate so that all Americans could “understand” what happened on 9/11?
[SNIP]
-- Karl, if you “understand 9/11”, then why don't you understand that until we have a more environmentally friendly energy policy, we cannot effectively fight the war on terrorism. By being dependent on foreign oil, we have no choice but to cozy up to nations that sponsor terrorists. Moreover, because of oil, we may end up placing our troops and our nation at greater risk by having to invade certain oil-rich countries. Our invasion of these countries merely serves to inflame would-be terrorists by reinforcing their notion that we are gluttonous and self-centered -- invading sovereign nations solely to steal their oil. Forgive me Karl, but is that how you think you "win hearts and minds"? Does that help in any way to "spread democracy"?
-- Finally Karl, please “understand” that the reason we have not suffered a repeat attack on our homeland is because Bin Laden no longer needs to attack us. Those of us with a pure and comprehensive “understanding of 9/11” know that Bin Laden committed the 9/11 attacks so he could increase recruitment for al Qaeda and increase worldwide hatred of America. That didn't happen. Because after 9/11, the world united with Americans and al Qaeda's recruitment levels never increased.
-- It was only after your invasion of Iraq, that Bin Laden's goals were met. Because of your war in Iraq two things happened that helped Bin Laden and the terrorists: al Qaeda recruitment soared and the United States is now alienated from and hated by the rest of the world. In effect, what Bin Laden could not achieve by murdering my husband and 3,000 others on 9/11, you handed to him on a silver platter with your invasion of Iraq - a country that had nothing to do with 9/11.
-- Which leads me to my final questions for you Karl: What are your motives when it comes to 9/11 and are you really sure that you understand 9/11?
Bravo, Kristen. Way to keep Karl on topic.
--Alexandra Walker | Friday 11:21 AM
Friday, June 24
Wednesday, June 22
Ahhh, crap
Holy shit, I'm alive.
I really am. I just haven't been feeling too great since the end of the Huge Motherfucking StarWarsTourFromHell, and all of my feeble energies have been directed toward reassembling my shattered life and trying to develop a head of steam on CAINE BLACK KNIFE.
Which I have.
Listen: nobody panic if I'm not around from time to time. I'm really fucking durable (not unlike some of the people I write about), and while being me is not exactly an endless weekend at Disney World, I still enjoy it enough that I will continue doing so until somebody stops me by force.
By the way, have I mentioned that Disney World is really cool? The people down there treated Robyn and me like rock stars, and the rides were great (the DW Space Mountain has to be the single niftiest rollercoaster I've ever been on, and I've been on more than my share), and Animal World or whatever the hell it's called is the coolest zoo I have ever been in, and I've been in more than my share of those, too. In fact, we had such a great time we're going back in 2006, after they finish Everest the Forbidden Mountain -- a rollercoaster that loops INSIDE a scale-model replica of Mount Everest that's gotta be 300 feet tall . . .
And was that really Gregg friggin' Dale posting down there? Holy shit. It's only been what, twenty-five years since I've seen you? And at least five or ten since we've exchanged emails, huh . . . ?
For those of you wondering if I went to high school with you, Gregg will attest that it just ain't so. Trust me -- if you'd gone to school with us, you'd remember. Everybody does. For better or worse.
So anyway, I'm back, at least temporarily. I'll be available for questions, commentary and sage advice. Mostly I'll be working on CBK and waiting for the Downing Street Memo to get enough airplay that even the Republicans can no longer avoid impeaching our Cocksmoke-in-Chief.
I really am. I just haven't been feeling too great since the end of the Huge Motherfucking StarWarsTourFromHell, and all of my feeble energies have been directed toward reassembling my shattered life and trying to develop a head of steam on CAINE BLACK KNIFE.
Which I have.
Listen: nobody panic if I'm not around from time to time. I'm really fucking durable (not unlike some of the people I write about), and while being me is not exactly an endless weekend at Disney World, I still enjoy it enough that I will continue doing so until somebody stops me by force.
By the way, have I mentioned that Disney World is really cool? The people down there treated Robyn and me like rock stars, and the rides were great (the DW Space Mountain has to be the single niftiest rollercoaster I've ever been on, and I've been on more than my share), and Animal World or whatever the hell it's called is the coolest zoo I have ever been in, and I've been in more than my share of those, too. In fact, we had such a great time we're going back in 2006, after they finish Everest the Forbidden Mountain -- a rollercoaster that loops INSIDE a scale-model replica of Mount Everest that's gotta be 300 feet tall . . .
And was that really Gregg friggin' Dale posting down there? Holy shit. It's only been what, twenty-five years since I've seen you? And at least five or ten since we've exchanged emails, huh . . . ?
For those of you wondering if I went to high school with you, Gregg will attest that it just ain't so. Trust me -- if you'd gone to school with us, you'd remember. Everybody does. For better or worse.
So anyway, I'm back, at least temporarily. I'll be available for questions, commentary and sage advice. Mostly I'll be working on CBK and waiting for the Downing Street Memo to get enough airplay that even the Republicans can no longer avoid impeaching our Cocksmoke-in-Chief.
Saturday, April 16
Well, crap.
I'm writing this from the armpit of international airports, the L.C. Smith Terminal at Detroit Metro. I was lucky enough to be hauled out of my hotel three hours before my flight -- and just before room service opens (the hotel restaurant is under construction, wouldn't you just know it) -- so I got here hungry and entirely decaffeinated . . .
Now, there IS a Starbucks. Of course. So that part is handled. The only restaurant in the ENTIRE TERMINAL is one pathetic cafeteria-line Quiznos that doesn't even have tables. The rest of the terminal strongly evokes a 70s-era Greyhound bus station, but without the charm.
So . . .
Minneapolis.
Wow.
The less said about the actual event, the better. Doing my Phil Donohue-on-crack impression from a stage in the four-story atrium of the Mall of America is an experience that will linger in my heart like the memory of my first colonoscopy. I won't deny a certain entertainment value: in that particular episode of the Movie of My Life, I think I was being played by Ben Stiller.
The fans, however, were not only tolerant in indulging my Thundering Four-Story Chrome-and-Glass Meltdown, but were enthusiastically egging me on . . .
Then dinner afterward, in which the astonishingly courageous Rebekah of the Minnesota FanForce braved my gang of Dead Cities hooligans and actually held her own, too. Even my smilingly wicked niece couldn't make her cry . . .
I won't go into details of the Dead Cities gang (plus friends and such) either, except to thank them for coming out -- Scott and Jenn and gabe and Joe and Claudia and Tom and Sarah (Did I get everybody's Real Name right?) -- largely because at least two of them are shortly to become considerably more famous than I am, and frankly, they just don't need the press.
Then off to Detroit, where my main memory is this friggin' airport, because my flight was delayed and there was a High-Speed Chase on the expressway (for real, and really serious, too: bank robbers and a shootout and injuries, and no jokes about it) which tangled up the roads, so we went straight from the airport to the event -- where Tom and Donna, Eldest Brother and Most Fabulous Sister-in-Law, were waiting -- and then from the event to the Original Borders store in Ann Arbor (which sleepy little college town ain't sleepy at all but in fact is HOPPIN' after eleven, would you believe it?) and then into bed after midnight, with the 5:30 wake-up so that I could catch the friggin' car and sit in this friggin' Greyhound terminal of an airport and whine about the hard life of the World Famous Star Wars Author.
Have I mentioned that I'm having a great time?
So I'm about to jump on a flight to Denver, where I actually get to stay TWO DAYS (thanks be to the gods, and to Colleen and Brandi) so that I can spend Saturday afternoon asleep in the mountain air . . .
I'm writing this from the armpit of international airports, the L.C. Smith Terminal at Detroit Metro. I was lucky enough to be hauled out of my hotel three hours before my flight -- and just before room service opens (the hotel restaurant is under construction, wouldn't you just know it) -- so I got here hungry and entirely decaffeinated . . .
Now, there IS a Starbucks. Of course. So that part is handled. The only restaurant in the ENTIRE TERMINAL is one pathetic cafeteria-line Quiznos that doesn't even have tables. The rest of the terminal strongly evokes a 70s-era Greyhound bus station, but without the charm.
So . . .
Minneapolis.
Wow.
The less said about the actual event, the better. Doing my Phil Donohue-on-crack impression from a stage in the four-story atrium of the Mall of America is an experience that will linger in my heart like the memory of my first colonoscopy. I won't deny a certain entertainment value: in that particular episode of the Movie of My Life, I think I was being played by Ben Stiller.
The fans, however, were not only tolerant in indulging my Thundering Four-Story Chrome-and-Glass Meltdown, but were enthusiastically egging me on . . .
Then dinner afterward, in which the astonishingly courageous Rebekah of the Minnesota FanForce braved my gang of Dead Cities hooligans and actually held her own, too. Even my smilingly wicked niece couldn't make her cry . . .
I won't go into details of the Dead Cities gang (plus friends and such) either, except to thank them for coming out -- Scott and Jenn and gabe and Joe and Claudia and Tom and Sarah (Did I get everybody's Real Name right?) -- largely because at least two of them are shortly to become considerably more famous than I am, and frankly, they just don't need the press.
Then off to Detroit, where my main memory is this friggin' airport, because my flight was delayed and there was a High-Speed Chase on the expressway (for real, and really serious, too: bank robbers and a shootout and injuries, and no jokes about it) which tangled up the roads, so we went straight from the airport to the event -- where Tom and Donna, Eldest Brother and Most Fabulous Sister-in-Law, were waiting -- and then from the event to the Original Borders store in Ann Arbor (which sleepy little college town ain't sleepy at all but in fact is HOPPIN' after eleven, would you believe it?) and then into bed after midnight, with the 5:30 wake-up so that I could catch the friggin' car and sit in this friggin' Greyhound terminal of an airport and whine about the hard life of the World Famous Star Wars Author.
Have I mentioned that I'm having a great time?
So I'm about to jump on a flight to Denver, where I actually get to stay TWO DAYS (thanks be to the gods, and to Colleen and Brandi) so that I can spend Saturday afternoon asleep in the mountain air . . .
New York --
City of Beautiful People on Nasty-Ass Sidewalks . . .
Had a wonderful time here . . . my first visit. Spent an hour or so walking Times Square around midnight. Nobody tried to sell me anything: the guys with the $5.00 Rolexes and the $10.00 Guaranteed Designer Handbags just nodded as I went past. The poor bastard hading out free tickets to Comedy Central's Premium Blend just shrugged -- THERE's a job I don't envy . . . like running a carnival kissing-booth in a leper colony . . . Even the bums -- I guess in N'Yawk you call e'm panhandlers -- just smiled. "How's it goin', big guy?" Me:"Not bad. You?" Him:"Can't complain."
This from a bum that I'd seen -- not thirty seconds earlier -- summoning tears to work a dollar off a tourist. "Come ON, man, just a dollar, what's a dollar to YOU? You know how long it's been since I had sompin to eat? Come ON, have a heart, brother . . . "
Guess I looked sullen enough that everybody thought I live here.
Did an extended interview for Book Look TV, which was just about the most fun I've had on tour so far. The host is James Michael Tyler, who you FRIENDS fans out there will know as Gunther the Coffee Dude . . . who turns out to be warm, charming and astonishingly smart (especially for an actor -- I mean, jeez, you ever hear the story about the actor who was so stupid that the other actors NOTICED?) not to mention a hard-core SF geek from way, way back.
I mean HARD core. This guy even watches ENTERPRISE. Not because he LIKES it (I told you he's smart) but -- as near as I can tell -- he just has to keep feeding that SF addiction.
And what the hell, anyway. Not everything can be STAR WARS or the new BATTLESTAR GALACTICA.
He and Chuck Cirino -- the director -- really went all-out to help the book (and camera-newbie me) look as good as they could make it, and I'm really grateful. Not to mention that they -- along with Skye Van Raalte-Herzog (who is actually as cool as her name implies, which takes some doing) had the intestinal fortitude to sit through my entire event at the Union Square Barnes & Noble so they could get it on film -- and they STILL weren't sick of me . . .
We all went out to dinner afterwards at one of those Oh-So-So Chelsea bistros, with Colleen the Publicity Guru and Chris the Marketing Maven, and JMT (as us pretentious name-droppin' wannabe types call him) told a couple of stories about his FRIENDS-related visits to Amsterdam, having to do with a certain phrase he spoke in Dutch in a certain episode -- one I cannot repeat and refuse to translate -- which not only proved that nobody at the FCC speaks Dutch, but made him into a national hero in Holland and nearly had me spewing jerked pork and plaintain out my nose.
In brief, that's New York for you.
Now, on to the Promised Land of Consumer America . . . the Largest Mall On Earth.
Well, it used to be, anyway. And it's about to be again, I guess. I'm told they heard some place in Russia passed them up, so they paved over twelve surrounding counties to open an extra three bazillion Gaps.
In round numbers.
City of Beautiful People on Nasty-Ass Sidewalks . . .
Had a wonderful time here . . . my first visit. Spent an hour or so walking Times Square around midnight. Nobody tried to sell me anything: the guys with the $5.00 Rolexes and the $10.00 Guaranteed Designer Handbags just nodded as I went past. The poor bastard hading out free tickets to Comedy Central's Premium Blend just shrugged -- THERE's a job I don't envy . . . like running a carnival kissing-booth in a leper colony . . . Even the bums -- I guess in N'Yawk you call e'm panhandlers -- just smiled. "How's it goin', big guy?" Me:"Not bad. You?" Him:"Can't complain."
This from a bum that I'd seen -- not thirty seconds earlier -- summoning tears to work a dollar off a tourist. "Come ON, man, just a dollar, what's a dollar to YOU? You know how long it's been since I had sompin to eat? Come ON, have a heart, brother . . . "
Guess I looked sullen enough that everybody thought I live here.
Did an extended interview for Book Look TV, which was just about the most fun I've had on tour so far. The host is James Michael Tyler, who you FRIENDS fans out there will know as Gunther the Coffee Dude . . . who turns out to be warm, charming and astonishingly smart (especially for an actor -- I mean, jeez, you ever hear the story about the actor who was so stupid that the other actors NOTICED?) not to mention a hard-core SF geek from way, way back.
I mean HARD core. This guy even watches ENTERPRISE. Not because he LIKES it (I told you he's smart) but -- as near as I can tell -- he just has to keep feeding that SF addiction.
And what the hell, anyway. Not everything can be STAR WARS or the new BATTLESTAR GALACTICA.
He and Chuck Cirino -- the director -- really went all-out to help the book (and camera-newbie me) look as good as they could make it, and I'm really grateful. Not to mention that they -- along with Skye Van Raalte-Herzog (who is actually as cool as her name implies, which takes some doing) had the intestinal fortitude to sit through my entire event at the Union Square Barnes & Noble so they could get it on film -- and they STILL weren't sick of me . . .
We all went out to dinner afterwards at one of those Oh-So-So Chelsea bistros, with Colleen the Publicity Guru and Chris the Marketing Maven, and JMT (as us pretentious name-droppin' wannabe types call him) told a couple of stories about his FRIENDS-related visits to Amsterdam, having to do with a certain phrase he spoke in Dutch in a certain episode -- one I cannot repeat and refuse to translate -- which not only proved that nobody at the FCC speaks Dutch, but made him into a national hero in Holland and nearly had me spewing jerked pork and plaintain out my nose.
In brief, that's New York for you.
Now, on to the Promised Land of Consumer America . . . the Largest Mall On Earth.
Well, it used to be, anyway. And it's about to be again, I guess. I'm told they heard some place in Russia passed them up, so they paved over twelve surrounding counties to open an extra three bazillion Gaps.
In round numbers.
Tuesday, April 12
Dateline Chicago, April 11 --
Did my first LIVE TV interview, in the Fox Morning News studio with Tamron Hall and David Navarro. They were great -- it was just like chatting with somebody in their living room. Somebody you've never met before. In a living room with only one wall. And lots of cameras and really bright lights. For a total of three and a half minutes.
I haven't seen the tape yet, but I've been told it went really well.
When David Navarro pushed me for a spoiler, I told him "Jar-Jar Binks has a very, VERY tiny part . . ."
Which got applause from the camera crew and sound guy.
Then we whipped over to the Merchandise Mart to do the Mancow in the Morning show on WKQX FM -- Q101 to you Chicago types -- and those of you who live in Chicago know who the Mancow is already.
It was live. It was fun. It was half an hour of deflecting questions about whether Darth Vader is secretly gay and refers to his weapon as a . . . well, he could say it on the radio, but I'm not gonna put it in print on a G-rated AOL blog, that's for damn sure.
So I just gave him a flat deadpan that all this was covered by the confidentiality clause in my contract . . .
Anyway, he turns out to be a really friendly guy, off the air (on the air, he's the friggin' Tazmanian Devil), and I signed a copy of the book for him, even though he admitted to being primarily a fan of the Other Franchise (those touchy-feely Prime Directive wussies . . .).
And we had a Dead Cities sighting -- Hey, cl, glad you made it . . .
The saddest part of the event was when one guy asked me, "If you had written the rest of the NJO [post-TRAITOR], would Jacen have gotten together with Tenel Ka?" and I had to tell him the truth. Because that's who I am: straight question, straight answer.
I didn't tell him the rest of the things that WOULD have happened if I'd written the rest of the NJO. I didn't want to give the poor bastard nightmares.
And now, we interrupt this blog for an Unsolicited Testimonial:
When I left on tour, I took a couple books with me, one of which was Stephen R. Donaldson's RUNES OF THE EARTH, Book One of the Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant.
In the interests of full disclosure, I'm going to tell you that I've had the honor of meeting Steve Donaldson a few times since I've been in the biz, and I'm proud to claim him as a friend.
That, however, has absolutely nothing to do with the following.
This book ROCKS.
Listen: Stephen R. Donaldson's Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever is the main reason I'm a novelist today. I read those books when they came out back in the late Seventies -- just as I was entering college -- and they were literally the epiphany that revealed to me that grown-up fantasy literature could be exactly that.
Grown-up. Literature.
While I was in college the Second Chronicles came out, and I love them too.
He was using a fantastic setting and events that resonated on a mythic scale to examine real-life issues of guilt, power, duty and responsibility, love and loss and gods I don't know what all, and those books rocked my world and all I've ever tried to do is knock people over the way those books knocked me.
And no too long ago he brought out his first new novel about the Land and Covenant's legacy in twenty years, and I've just been too busy (with REVENGE OF THE SITH, by no coincidence at all, and with CAINE BLACK KNIFE) to read it . . .
Until now. I finished it just before I got on the flight back to Chicago.
I confess to being a fan: Mordant's Need and DAUGHTER OF REGALS and REAVE THE JUST and the Gap . . . But nonetheless, the Land is the Land.
I'm here to tell you that the Land is STILL the Land.
Vintage Donaldson. Like great wine.
Loved it.
Did my first LIVE TV interview, in the Fox Morning News studio with Tamron Hall and David Navarro. They were great -- it was just like chatting with somebody in their living room. Somebody you've never met before. In a living room with only one wall. And lots of cameras and really bright lights. For a total of three and a half minutes.
I haven't seen the tape yet, but I've been told it went really well.
When David Navarro pushed me for a spoiler, I told him "Jar-Jar Binks has a very, VERY tiny part . . ."
Which got applause from the camera crew and sound guy.
Then we whipped over to the Merchandise Mart to do the Mancow in the Morning show on WKQX FM -- Q101 to you Chicago types -- and those of you who live in Chicago know who the Mancow is already.
It was live. It was fun. It was half an hour of deflecting questions about whether Darth Vader is secretly gay and refers to his weapon as a . . . well, he could say it on the radio, but I'm not gonna put it in print on a G-rated AOL blog, that's for damn sure.
So I just gave him a flat deadpan that all this was covered by the confidentiality clause in my contract . . .
Anyway, he turns out to be a really friendly guy, off the air (on the air, he's the friggin' Tazmanian Devil), and I signed a copy of the book for him, even though he admitted to being primarily a fan of the Other Franchise (those touchy-feely Prime Directive wussies . . .).
And we had a Dead Cities sighting -- Hey, cl, glad you made it . . .
The saddest part of the event was when one guy asked me, "If you had written the rest of the NJO [post-TRAITOR], would Jacen have gotten together with Tenel Ka?" and I had to tell him the truth. Because that's who I am: straight question, straight answer.
I didn't tell him the rest of the things that WOULD have happened if I'd written the rest of the NJO. I didn't want to give the poor bastard nightmares.
And now, we interrupt this blog for an Unsolicited Testimonial:
When I left on tour, I took a couple books with me, one of which was Stephen R. Donaldson's RUNES OF THE EARTH, Book One of the Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant.
In the interests of full disclosure, I'm going to tell you that I've had the honor of meeting Steve Donaldson a few times since I've been in the biz, and I'm proud to claim him as a friend.
That, however, has absolutely nothing to do with the following.
This book ROCKS.
Listen: Stephen R. Donaldson's Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever is the main reason I'm a novelist today. I read those books when they came out back in the late Seventies -- just as I was entering college -- and they were literally the epiphany that revealed to me that grown-up fantasy literature could be exactly that.
Grown-up. Literature.
While I was in college the Second Chronicles came out, and I love them too.
He was using a fantastic setting and events that resonated on a mythic scale to examine real-life issues of guilt, power, duty and responsibility, love and loss and gods I don't know what all, and those books rocked my world and all I've ever tried to do is knock people over the way those books knocked me.
And no too long ago he brought out his first new novel about the Land and Covenant's legacy in twenty years, and I've just been too busy (with REVENGE OF THE SITH, by no coincidence at all, and with CAINE BLACK KNIFE) to read it . . .
Until now. I finished it just before I got on the flight back to Chicago.
I confess to being a fan: Mordant's Need and DAUGHTER OF REGALS and REAVE THE JUST and the Gap . . . But nonetheless, the Land is the Land.
I'm here to tell you that the Land is STILL the Land.
Vintage Donaldson. Like great wine.
Loved it.
Sunday, April 10
For regular readers, I have to apologize for the generalized reportorial tone of this and the last few posts -- and for what will be the next ones, too. These have to serve double duty. In case you didn't know, my tour blog is also being carried on the AOL MovieFone site, and so I'm keeping it G-Rated.
So there's no ratcock goatfucking in the text. For a while anyway.
Jacksonville --
Beautiful city. Which I know is hard to believe for people who haven't been here for a few years. But this place just sparkles. Everything is bright and clean, the buildings look freshly scrubbed, the bridges are painted and lit at night and everything's open and full of trees and man, I just really liked it a lot.
Had my first Big-Time Local TV interview -- nice warm-up for Chicago, where I face the Fox Morning crew. Down here it was the lovely and professional Kathleen O'Toole, at the WTLV studio, which has the unusual distinction of being double-affiliated -- apparently it's both NBC *and* ABC . . . exactly how that works in prime-time is more than I can fathom, but hey, programming ain't my department. I just sit in the chair and answer questions.
And Justin? I was indeed wearing the shirt . . .
And thanks to Betty Metz and her immaculate snow-white Mercedes, I was early for the interview and the event, and managed to enjoy my very first bison tenderloin at a Ted's Montana Grill (or whatever the hell Turner's chain is calling itself these days). Anyway, it was Betty's suggestion, and it was outstanding, as was her company.
Which brings us to the Books-A-Million event at the Orange Park Mall, which was . . .
Massive.
For me, anyway. About two hundred and fifty people stood around to listen to me read the Introduction and answer a few questions, then waited in a line (some for more than two hours! after driving more than two hours! -- they really DO understand the Power of the Dark Side . . .) that just seemed to keep growing and growing and growing.
Thanks again to the 501st, and to the Jax FanForce for coming out -- here we had our first appearance by Mara Jade, which is also, I believe, the first appearance by a 100% EU character. Seeing as how the film of REVENGE OF THE SITH will be the very first one to feature a cameo by a character created for the EU, I thought it was exceedingly appropriate.
Also fielded a question from the audience about CAINE BLACK KNIFE -- my current post-Star Wars project, for those newbies out there -- that this morning, from checking the legendary fan-forum TheForce.Net, I discovered came from none other than the legendary Errant Venture himself!
EV -- you should have ID'd yourself by handle, man . . . I don't recognize you guys by your *real* names, y'know.
Now I'm on my way to Chicago, for my one and only Day Off, before the Big Borders Event on State Street, Monday at 12:30.
Chicago fantypes, we'll see youse guys dere!
So there's no ratcock goatfucking in the text. For a while anyway.
Jacksonville --
Beautiful city. Which I know is hard to believe for people who haven't been here for a few years. But this place just sparkles. Everything is bright and clean, the buildings look freshly scrubbed, the bridges are painted and lit at night and everything's open and full of trees and man, I just really liked it a lot.
Had my first Big-Time Local TV interview -- nice warm-up for Chicago, where I face the Fox Morning crew. Down here it was the lovely and professional Kathleen O'Toole, at the WTLV studio, which has the unusual distinction of being double-affiliated -- apparently it's both NBC *and* ABC . . . exactly how that works in prime-time is more than I can fathom, but hey, programming ain't my department. I just sit in the chair and answer questions.
And Justin? I was indeed wearing the shirt . . .
And thanks to Betty Metz and her immaculate snow-white Mercedes, I was early for the interview and the event, and managed to enjoy my very first bison tenderloin at a Ted's Montana Grill (or whatever the hell Turner's chain is calling itself these days). Anyway, it was Betty's suggestion, and it was outstanding, as was her company.
Which brings us to the Books-A-Million event at the Orange Park Mall, which was . . .
Massive.
For me, anyway. About two hundred and fifty people stood around to listen to me read the Introduction and answer a few questions, then waited in a line (some for more than two hours! after driving more than two hours! -- they really DO understand the Power of the Dark Side . . .) that just seemed to keep growing and growing and growing.
Thanks again to the 501st, and to the Jax FanForce for coming out -- here we had our first appearance by Mara Jade, which is also, I believe, the first appearance by a 100% EU character. Seeing as how the film of REVENGE OF THE SITH will be the very first one to feature a cameo by a character created for the EU, I thought it was exceedingly appropriate.
Also fielded a question from the audience about CAINE BLACK KNIFE -- my current post-Star Wars project, for those newbies out there -- that this morning, from checking the legendary fan-forum TheForce.Net, I discovered came from none other than the legendary Errant Venture himself!
EV -- you should have ID'd yourself by handle, man . . . I don't recognize you guys by your *real* names, y'know.
Now I'm on my way to Chicago, for my one and only Day Off, before the Big Borders Event on State Street, Monday at 12:30.
Chicago fantypes, we'll see youse guys dere!
Saturday, April 9
April 8
Leaving Washington DC --
Finally on a jet-sized jet, and thank the gods for it, too, because Zeus is having a little fun with us today: we're bouncing around like a handful of jumping beans inside a pachinko machine.
DC was a great stop, at least partly due to the Organizator, Paul Peachey, my escort for both days. He could give lessons to C-3P0. This guy had a mental map of all the major bookstores en route to the events, and had them primed and prepared for our arrival so that -- both days -- I had stock-signed something like 300 books before I even got to the actual signings. Both days. He claimed his secret plan was to make UNsigned copies into the DC-area Hot Collectible . . .
Thanks again to the 501st, out for both events. At Olssons, we even had a published SFF novelist as the Sith in Black Armor Himself: no less than Roger Sharp, author of PSYCLONE.
Did an interview with Eye On Books' Bill Thompson, who (as it happens) is a Downstate Illinoisian like myself. I'm counting on that homestate connection; maybe he'll edit out any idiot remarks that may have slipped through the clutch-gap between my second-gear brain and fifth-gear mouth.
And I had a live -- or semi-live tape-delay -- interview on a Jacksonville morning-zoo-style radio show that included a Star Wars Geek-Off against their resident fandroid, whose name is claimed to be Amadeus. This, I must point out, was not only at ten minutes before eight this morning, but until I picked up the phone I had no idea it was going to be
1) live,
2) raucous, and
3) mildly razzing on Us Fans.
I can hold my own, though. When they asked me who was the weirdest geek I'd had to deal with at a signing so far, I told them, "Oh, they never get really bad -- it's not like they're talk radio hosts or anything . . ."
Leaving Washington DC --
Finally on a jet-sized jet, and thank the gods for it, too, because Zeus is having a little fun with us today: we're bouncing around like a handful of jumping beans inside a pachinko machine.
DC was a great stop, at least partly due to the Organizator, Paul Peachey, my escort for both days. He could give lessons to C-3P0. This guy had a mental map of all the major bookstores en route to the events, and had them primed and prepared for our arrival so that -- both days -- I had stock-signed something like 300 books before I even got to the actual signings. Both days. He claimed his secret plan was to make UNsigned copies into the DC-area Hot Collectible . . .
Thanks again to the 501st, out for both events. At Olssons, we even had a published SFF novelist as the Sith in Black Armor Himself: no less than Roger Sharp, author of PSYCLONE.
Did an interview with Eye On Books' Bill Thompson, who (as it happens) is a Downstate Illinoisian like myself. I'm counting on that homestate connection; maybe he'll edit out any idiot remarks that may have slipped through the clutch-gap between my second-gear brain and fifth-gear mouth.
And I had a live -- or semi-live tape-delay -- interview on a Jacksonville morning-zoo-style radio show that included a Star Wars Geek-Off against their resident fandroid, whose name is claimed to be Amadeus. This, I must point out, was not only at ten minutes before eight this morning, but until I picked up the phone I had no idea it was going to be
1) live,
2) raucous, and
3) mildly razzing on Us Fans.
I can hold my own, though. When they asked me who was the weirdest geek I'd had to deal with at a signing so far, I told them, "Oh, they never get really bad -- it's not like they're talk radio hosts or anything . . ."
Thursday, April 7
Posting a day late, due to Internet problems at the previous hotel and extreme exhaustion last night . . .
The Buffalo Barnes and Noble put on a great event; I don't have the final numbers, but I'm pretty sure we sold around two hundred books tonight, and the North Ridge -- Buffalo FanForce -- came out in force, if you can stand the tired half a pun, and we had our very first Chewbacca, eight feet tall and hairy as a Neanderthal on Rogaine. He was popular, too -- I signed one book for a B&N employee who called herself WookieeLover . . .
I guess -- unlike Princess Leia -- she WOULD rather kiss a Wookiee.
This event also saw the first Luke Skywalker of the tour. Just think: only hours old, and already walking, talking and carrying a lightsaber . . .
My TV interview was with a terrific kid named Colin, who was doing the interview for his school's CCTV news, and it was a gas. He'll probably end up anchoring 60 MINUTES.
The store manager had me sign the rest of the stock -- about 250 (!) more books, because he figured that when the article in the newspaper came out (I did a brief interview before the event) they'd sell 'em before the end of the week . . .
He also told me that as of tomorrow -- that is, today, Wednesday -- REVENGE OF THE SITH would be appearing on the Barnes & Noble Bestsellers list, which is very cool indeed.
Apologies to the wonderful fans from North Ridge for my abject failure to hang out post-event -- I barely managed to keep my eyes open long enough to get room service at the hotel -- and thanks for the honorary induction and the plaque; I'll be starting a tour wall in my office, and yours will be the first one hung, provided I can get it home intact.
Now I'm off to Washington for my first INTENTIONAL two-day stopover of the tour.
The Buffalo Barnes and Noble put on a great event; I don't have the final numbers, but I'm pretty sure we sold around two hundred books tonight, and the North Ridge -- Buffalo FanForce -- came out in force, if you can stand the tired half a pun, and we had our very first Chewbacca, eight feet tall and hairy as a Neanderthal on Rogaine. He was popular, too -- I signed one book for a B&N employee who called herself WookieeLover . . .
I guess -- unlike Princess Leia -- she WOULD rather kiss a Wookiee.
This event also saw the first Luke Skywalker of the tour. Just think: only hours old, and already walking, talking and carrying a lightsaber . . .
My TV interview was with a terrific kid named Colin, who was doing the interview for his school's CCTV news, and it was a gas. He'll probably end up anchoring 60 MINUTES.
The store manager had me sign the rest of the stock -- about 250 (!) more books, because he figured that when the article in the newspaper came out (I did a brief interview before the event) they'd sell 'em before the end of the week . . .
He also told me that as of tomorrow -- that is, today, Wednesday -- REVENGE OF THE SITH would be appearing on the Barnes & Noble Bestsellers list, which is very cool indeed.
Apologies to the wonderful fans from North Ridge for my abject failure to hang out post-event -- I barely managed to keep my eyes open long enough to get room service at the hotel -- and thanks for the honorary induction and the plaque; I'll be starting a tour wall in my office, and yours will be the first one hung, provided I can get it home intact.
Now I'm off to Washington for my first INTENTIONAL two-day stopover of the tour.
Tuesday, April 5
Dateline Boston, Logan Airport --
which is pretty damned nice in and of itself.
I got flagged as a security risk by US Airways, and so was subjected to my very first full patdown. Despite my request, said frisk was NOT performed by the nice-looking young brunette, but rather by a cheerfully efficient middle-aged bald guy.
Maybe I'll have better luck with my first strip-search.
Anyway, they were very thorough, which I actually appreciated. I thanked them when they were done. I WANT them to be thorough. That's what they're there for.
So the event at the Harvard Coop last night was pretty cool. About sixty or seventy people -- less then I was hoping for -- but the intro I got from the event coordinator was so good I wish I had a copy to post on this blog. This guy had not only read the book, but he understands exactly what is involved in making a novel out of a novelization . . . he was great, and I don't even remember his name. Richard was his first name; I didn't get his last.
And another thing: a young man offered an essay to me in a white envelope, one that he'd written for his English class. And I am such a thoughtless, ignorant, puddle-brained bastard that I somehow let it get buried in the stock signing I did after the event and left it behind.
But this is where the people at the Coop -- led by the aforementioned Richard and the thoughtful Karen Porter (whose name I know because she's the contact on my itinerary) -- they found it, and they're sending it to a certain very good friend of mine . . . along with a copy of Richard introductory essay. Which I hope he'll give me permission to post.
As for the young man's English paper -- I won't forget it again. I'll read it, and I'll tell you what I think of it. I promise.
Now, on to the reason I became the aforementioned puddle-brained bastard. The reason I can't even remember the name of the guy who gave me that stellar introduction. It's that aforementioned very good friend of mine.
It was because when I was walking in to do the event, I bumped into Bob Salvatore.
BOB FUCKING SALVATORE CAME TO MY BOOK SIGNING.
Just showed up. Because he's a great guy, and a really good friend, and he knew I'd already be more than ready to see a familiar face.
It was a gas. Shit, he asked the first question in the Q&A. I didn't point him out to the audience because, frankly, it was MY book signing and people would have instantly stopped paying attention to what I was saying because I may be Matthew Woodring Stover but he's Bob fucking Salvatore, y'know? I also didn't know if any of the fanboys in the audience still might be carrying a grudge over the unexpected Major Character demise in VECTOR PRIME . . . in fact, one of them admitted to me privately that he had been among those slagging Bob online back when VP came out, but that he'd since changed his mind about the book and thought it was really good. I told him that he probably shouldn't mention the part about the online slagging . . .
I did get to tell the story of how Bob and Mike Stackpole bullied me into writing Star Wars in the first place, and after the Q&A he came up to the table with me and hung out, which was really cool -- he didn't push himself in at all, but the fans who recognized him were kinda knocked out to find the authors of AotC and RotS together again for the first time.
I also got to have dinner with him afterwards -- hell, he even picked up the check, which'll make Colleen's tour-budgeteers smile . . .
While I'm talking Boston, I have to plug the Hotel Commonwealth, which was absolutely stellar -- the accomodations are lovely and the staff was impeccable. Listen, in my other life I work in a hotel; I know exactly what it takes to maintain even competence, let alone mastery. I have never received finer service.
I also should mention the hotel restaurant, Great Bay, which was INCREDIBLE. I worked four years in a four-star restaurant, under two of the finest chefs in the United States. I know a little bit about good food. The diver-caught sea scallops with blood-orange reduction over risotto-style Carolina rice were so good that they bafffle my powers of description. Bob and his buddy were similarly stunned by the sheer, stupendous goodness of everything they tasted. I saw a sign by the door that said Esquire Magazine had named Great Bay as the best new restaurant in Boston. Well, I haven't been to any other restaurants in Boston, but I've been to plenty in plenty of other cities, and the food here was as good as any I have ever had in my mouth. Period.
And I have to mention Jim and Ginny Bride, who were my escorts. They were both great -- great company, enthusiastic and indefatigable tour guides, friendly and knowledgable and all-around swell: setting the standard to which all other escorts will have trouble living up to.
Off to Buffalo!
Update --
Here I am in Buffalo. Just had some wings. They're better in Chicago.
Now I'm off for my very first TV appearance in which I play myself . . .
Tally Ho!
which is pretty damned nice in and of itself.
I got flagged as a security risk by US Airways, and so was subjected to my very first full patdown. Despite my request, said frisk was NOT performed by the nice-looking young brunette, but rather by a cheerfully efficient middle-aged bald guy.
Maybe I'll have better luck with my first strip-search.
Anyway, they were very thorough, which I actually appreciated. I thanked them when they were done. I WANT them to be thorough. That's what they're there for.
So the event at the Harvard Coop last night was pretty cool. About sixty or seventy people -- less then I was hoping for -- but the intro I got from the event coordinator was so good I wish I had a copy to post on this blog. This guy had not only read the book, but he understands exactly what is involved in making a novel out of a novelization . . . he was great, and I don't even remember his name. Richard was his first name; I didn't get his last.
And another thing: a young man offered an essay to me in a white envelope, one that he'd written for his English class. And I am such a thoughtless, ignorant, puddle-brained bastard that I somehow let it get buried in the stock signing I did after the event and left it behind.
But this is where the people at the Coop -- led by the aforementioned Richard and the thoughtful Karen Porter (whose name I know because she's the contact on my itinerary) -- they found it, and they're sending it to a certain very good friend of mine . . . along with a copy of Richard introductory essay. Which I hope he'll give me permission to post.
As for the young man's English paper -- I won't forget it again. I'll read it, and I'll tell you what I think of it. I promise.
Now, on to the reason I became the aforementioned puddle-brained bastard. The reason I can't even remember the name of the guy who gave me that stellar introduction. It's that aforementioned very good friend of mine.
It was because when I was walking in to do the event, I bumped into Bob Salvatore.
BOB FUCKING SALVATORE CAME TO MY BOOK SIGNING.
Just showed up. Because he's a great guy, and a really good friend, and he knew I'd already be more than ready to see a familiar face.
It was a gas. Shit, he asked the first question in the Q&A. I didn't point him out to the audience because, frankly, it was MY book signing and people would have instantly stopped paying attention to what I was saying because I may be Matthew Woodring Stover but he's Bob fucking Salvatore, y'know? I also didn't know if any of the fanboys in the audience still might be carrying a grudge over the unexpected Major Character demise in VECTOR PRIME . . . in fact, one of them admitted to me privately that he had been among those slagging Bob online back when VP came out, but that he'd since changed his mind about the book and thought it was really good. I told him that he probably shouldn't mention the part about the online slagging . . .
I did get to tell the story of how Bob and Mike Stackpole bullied me into writing Star Wars in the first place, and after the Q&A he came up to the table with me and hung out, which was really cool -- he didn't push himself in at all, but the fans who recognized him were kinda knocked out to find the authors of AotC and RotS together again for the first time.
I also got to have dinner with him afterwards -- hell, he even picked up the check, which'll make Colleen's tour-budgeteers smile . . .
While I'm talking Boston, I have to plug the Hotel Commonwealth, which was absolutely stellar -- the accomodations are lovely and the staff was impeccable. Listen, in my other life I work in a hotel; I know exactly what it takes to maintain even competence, let alone mastery. I have never received finer service.
I also should mention the hotel restaurant, Great Bay, which was INCREDIBLE. I worked four years in a four-star restaurant, under two of the finest chefs in the United States. I know a little bit about good food. The diver-caught sea scallops with blood-orange reduction over risotto-style Carolina rice were so good that they bafffle my powers of description. Bob and his buddy were similarly stunned by the sheer, stupendous goodness of everything they tasted. I saw a sign by the door that said Esquire Magazine had named Great Bay as the best new restaurant in Boston. Well, I haven't been to any other restaurants in Boston, but I've been to plenty in plenty of other cities, and the food here was as good as any I have ever had in my mouth. Period.
And I have to mention Jim and Ginny Bride, who were my escorts. They were both great -- great company, enthusiastic and indefatigable tour guides, friendly and knowledgable and all-around swell: setting the standard to which all other escorts will have trouble living up to.
Off to Buffalo!
Update --
Here I am in Buffalo. Just had some wings. They're better in Chicago.
Now I'm off for my very first TV appearance in which I play myself . . .
Tally Ho!
Monday, April 4
Leaving Raleigh --
I'm off to Boston on the smallest friggin' jet I've ever been on. It's about the size of my car. If we have to make an emergency landing, I'll put the goddamn thing in my pocket and WALK the rest of the way.
I'd be remiss if I didn't mention one of the truly coolest feature of the event at Quail Ridge the other night. The event coordinator -- the guy who introduced me -- is Clay Griffith.
Who is the current writer of THE TICK.
No, I'm not kidding.
I AM NOT WORTHY. I AM NOT WORTHY.
He's decidedly cool, too -- about my age, but better looking. And with great hair.
Saw the AP news release. Funny how stuff gets twisted around. I really have to learn to just say No Fucking Comment.
I mean, this guy was asking me WHY I wrote REVENGE OF THE SITH. Simple question. And I told him the truth: I jumped at the chance to be part of the the most important cultural pop-mythic cycle in American history. Not to mention that the money's good, and the exposure's great.
So he jumps on the money. "How much did you get paid?"
Being WASPY, I don't want to say. That's where I should have said No Fucking Comment.
"Was it huge?"
"No."
"Can I say it was a six-figure advance?"
"Uh, well, no --"
"Not even six-figures? Jeez."
"Look, I --"
"High five figures?"
"Yeah, sure. High five figures."
"And royalties?"
"Writing Star Wars isn't about the royalties -- the royalties aren't much for tie-in fiction. It's about the exposure -- I go from a respected but little-known fantasy writers to one of the best-known-fantasy writers in America practically overniight. But mostly it's what I was talking about before --"
And somehow, in the article, the whole business about the privilege of being able to participate in the central pop-cultural mythic cycle of the 20th Century just got lost in the shuffle . . .
I'll know better next time.
I'm off to Boston on the smallest friggin' jet I've ever been on. It's about the size of my car. If we have to make an emergency landing, I'll put the goddamn thing in my pocket and WALK the rest of the way.
I'd be remiss if I didn't mention one of the truly coolest feature of the event at Quail Ridge the other night. The event coordinator -- the guy who introduced me -- is Clay Griffith.
Who is the current writer of THE TICK.
No, I'm not kidding.
I AM NOT WORTHY. I AM NOT WORTHY.
He's decidedly cool, too -- about my age, but better looking. And with great hair.
Saw the AP news release. Funny how stuff gets twisted around. I really have to learn to just say No Fucking Comment.
I mean, this guy was asking me WHY I wrote REVENGE OF THE SITH. Simple question. And I told him the truth: I jumped at the chance to be part of the the most important cultural pop-mythic cycle in American history. Not to mention that the money's good, and the exposure's great.
So he jumps on the money. "How much did you get paid?"
Being WASPY, I don't want to say. That's where I should have said No Fucking Comment.
"Was it huge?"
"No."
"Can I say it was a six-figure advance?"
"Uh, well, no --"
"Not even six-figures? Jeez."
"Look, I --"
"High five figures?"
"Yeah, sure. High five figures."
"And royalties?"
"Writing Star Wars isn't about the royalties -- the royalties aren't much for tie-in fiction. It's about the exposure -- I go from a respected but little-known fantasy writers to one of the best-known-fantasy writers in America practically overniight. But mostly it's what I was talking about before --"
And somehow, in the article, the whole business about the privilege of being able to participate in the central pop-cultural mythic cycle of the 20th Century just got lost in the shuffle . . .
I'll know better next time.
Sunday, April 3
Raleigh NC April 2 (& 3rd . . . see below)
Raleigh NC April 2 (& 3rd . . . see below)
The Great Friggin' Gonzo Revenge of the Sith Tour is officially under way!
Kicked it off this afternoon at Wal-Mart SuperCenter Store #5118 in Raleigh NC, and it was a party . . . the whole staff was so pumped to sell Star Wars that I had to do a 45-minute meet & greet in the employee lunch-room before the actual event -- and I think I signed more books for the employees than I did for the customers.
Which is cool by me.
A sale's a sale, baby . . .
And the NC Garrison of the 501st Storm Trooper Battalion turned out, too, so that I had a pair of clone troopers, a Red Guard, an Imperial pilot, Boba friggin' Fett and Darth by-God VADER doing CROWD control . . .
It was pretty cool.
And I got to meet in person for the very first time one of my long-time friends, HAWKi102, who I've been corresponding with for a couple years now, and discover that he's a perfectly normal-looking guy, with a very understanding moms-type in tow. Great to meet you, Steve.
Why do I always expect my fans to look like demented homeless cattle-mutilators?
And there was Shane, too (aka tyshalle83, brave lad) -- also entirely human. And towing the lovely Allison (did I get your name right? I met a lot of people today) [EDIT: AMBER, dammit, sorry about that], thus proving that my fans are not only handsome folk, but attractive to the opposite sex.
How did this happen?
In fact, over all, I'd have to say that my fans are all singularly goodlooking people (in addition to their obvious intelligence and stellar taste).
Later --
Did my first reading -- at Quail Ridge, a vastly cool independent store here. Of course, I'm kind of a small-timer round these parts, seeing as how they've also recently hosted none other than the legendary Zahn . . . not to mention Greg Keyes . . .
The 501st was here as well, and this time they hung out after the event and took off the armor -- without getting conspicuously naked, so forget about pictures -- and took me out to dinner, and proved my earlier contention applies not only to my fans, but to Star Wars fans in general.
I mean, I've been to a LOT of cons. SFF fans are a pack of scruffy-lookin' nerfherders, and not only will few of them deny it, most would be offended if I were to suggest otherwise.
Star Wars fans, tho' . . . these are good-looking people. I mean, you can't squeeze a fat ass into that storm trooper armor, you know what I mean? Hell, one of the troopers at Wal-Mart was a REAL trooper -- he could honest-to-Christ quickdraw his friggin' blaster, because he's an honest-to-Christ deputy sheriff. Two others are officers in the Air Force, for Christ's sake -- there was Navy represented, too. These aren't your Living-in-Mom's-Basement-Wearing-Spock-Ears types, y'know?
Later still --
Hey, Raleigh loves me so much it doesn't want to let me go. The US Airways shuttle to Pittsburgh turned around in midair and went back to the airport. In Pittsburgh. It never even got here. And then it was cancelled without explanation. And then US Airways politely explained that all other flights to Pittsburgh were already overbooked. Until 10:50 PM, which would make me a bit late for my 2:00 Talk & Signing at the Barnes & Noble #2898 on Freeport, which will consequently be deprived of my company.
Sorry, folks. Shit happens. Apparently it happens to US Airways quite a bit -- the next thing they did was start taking volunteers to skip the oversold flight to New York that was the next one out of the same gate . . .
The good news is that I get to spend an extra night in the Raleigh Sheraton, where people are very nice to me indeed, and the food's really good, and the Young Christian conference that was having a picnic in the hallway outside my room yesterday (no, I'm not kidding) seems to have evaporated, so I'm gonna quit blathering on about things now and get to work on CAINE BLACK KNIFE.
I'll see folks in Boston tomorrow . . .
The Great Friggin' Gonzo Revenge of the Sith Tour is officially under way!
Kicked it off this afternoon at Wal-Mart SuperCenter Store #5118 in Raleigh NC, and it was a party . . . the whole staff was so pumped to sell Star Wars that I had to do a 45-minute meet & greet in the employee lunch-room before the actual event -- and I think I signed more books for the employees than I did for the customers.
Which is cool by me.
A sale's a sale, baby . . .
And the NC Garrison of the 501st Storm Trooper Battalion turned out, too, so that I had a pair of clone troopers, a Red Guard, an Imperial pilot, Boba friggin' Fett and Darth by-God VADER doing CROWD control . . .
It was pretty cool.
And I got to meet in person for the very first time one of my long-time friends, HAWKi102, who I've been corresponding with for a couple years now, and discover that he's a perfectly normal-looking guy, with a very understanding moms-type in tow. Great to meet you, Steve.
Why do I always expect my fans to look like demented homeless cattle-mutilators?
And there was Shane, too (aka tyshalle83, brave lad) -- also entirely human. And towing the lovely Allison (did I get your name right? I met a lot of people today) [EDIT: AMBER, dammit, sorry about that], thus proving that my fans are not only handsome folk, but attractive to the opposite sex.
How did this happen?
In fact, over all, I'd have to say that my fans are all singularly goodlooking people (in addition to their obvious intelligence and stellar taste).
Later --
Did my first reading -- at Quail Ridge, a vastly cool independent store here. Of course, I'm kind of a small-timer round these parts, seeing as how they've also recently hosted none other than the legendary Zahn . . . not to mention Greg Keyes . . .
The 501st was here as well, and this time they hung out after the event and took off the armor -- without getting conspicuously naked, so forget about pictures -- and took me out to dinner, and proved my earlier contention applies not only to my fans, but to Star Wars fans in general.
I mean, I've been to a LOT of cons. SFF fans are a pack of scruffy-lookin' nerfherders, and not only will few of them deny it, most would be offended if I were to suggest otherwise.
Star Wars fans, tho' . . . these are good-looking people. I mean, you can't squeeze a fat ass into that storm trooper armor, you know what I mean? Hell, one of the troopers at Wal-Mart was a REAL trooper -- he could honest-to-Christ quickdraw his friggin' blaster, because he's an honest-to-Christ deputy sheriff. Two others are officers in the Air Force, for Christ's sake -- there was Navy represented, too. These aren't your Living-in-Mom's-Basement-Wearing-Spock-Ears types, y'know?
Later still --
Hey, Raleigh loves me so much it doesn't want to let me go. The US Airways shuttle to Pittsburgh turned around in midair and went back to the airport. In Pittsburgh. It never even got here. And then it was cancelled without explanation. And then US Airways politely explained that all other flights to Pittsburgh were already overbooked. Until 10:50 PM, which would make me a bit late for my 2:00 Talk & Signing at the Barnes & Noble #2898 on Freeport, which will consequently be deprived of my company.
Sorry, folks. Shit happens. Apparently it happens to US Airways quite a bit -- the next thing they did was start taking volunteers to skip the oversold flight to New York that was the next one out of the same gate . . .
The good news is that I get to spend an extra night in the Raleigh Sheraton, where people are very nice to me indeed, and the food's really good, and the Young Christian conference that was having a picnic in the hallway outside my room yesterday (no, I'm not kidding) seems to have evaporated, so I'm gonna quit blathering on about things now and get to work on CAINE BLACK KNIFE.
I'll see folks in Boston tomorrow . . .
Friday, March 25
Haven't been here for a while, largely because there has been some Classified Shit going on that I just can't write about, and when I can't write about what's on my mind, I don't write at all.
But we're getting down to the wire, here.
The Great Friggin' Gonzo Revenge of the Sith Tour gets under way a week from tomorrow, and here's the latest:
1) I still don't have an official itinerary. I know what cities I'm going to because I downloaded the schedule from The Force.Net (and I got a supplementary list from Colleen when we talked on Tuesday). But I don't have flight or hotel info. At all. Colleen? You listening?
(Though to be fair, I'm teasing her a little. She only promised me the itinerary by the end of this week, which in Publisher Time means before the close of business next Thursday.)
2) Though the book seems to be all over the goddamn Internet by now, nobody's sent an advance copy to ME . . . which means I get to go through security checks with a one-way ticket. Loads of fun. "No, REALLY, I'm on a BOOK tour . . . well, I don't have the book WITH me . . ."
3) I am damned close to broke. It's been a (to paraphrase George Harrison) long cold lonely fucking winter. [EDITED BY THE BORG. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.]
4) My meds are only half working. I'm mobile and functioning and will remain so, but can I just say . . . ow . . . ?
5) The AOL/Moviefone tour blog thing is still supposed to be happening, except they haven't gotten the software to me yet, and we're kinda running out of time.
6) I continue to maintain, despite how the above may read, my Jedi calm. This shit is entirely out of my hands; I leave success and failure entirely to the whims of the gods, the Force and the Random House publicity department, in that order. I will be squeezing every drop of enjoyment from my 15 minutes . . . er, 30 days . . . of nascent celebrity, and I continue to believe that somehow everything will work out just fine.
Because somehow it usually does.
It's not unlike working a blisteringly busy shift at a high-end restaurant -- which, as many of you know, I have done many, many times in my long career. When you're in the middle of it and things look like they're about to start going wrong, it seems like the fucking Apocalypse. But at the end of the shift, you count your money and go home. Meanwhile, nobody died.
Which is the main reason I became a bartender instead of a cop, a doctor, a fireman or a soldier.
And so far, nothing has ACTUALLY gone wrong. It's just the damned full-body migraine that makes it feel like it's going to, and I'll get over that by the time I'm on the flight to Raleigh.
Tally Ho!
But we're getting down to the wire, here.
The Great Friggin' Gonzo Revenge of the Sith Tour gets under way a week from tomorrow, and here's the latest:
1) I still don't have an official itinerary. I know what cities I'm going to because I downloaded the schedule from The Force.Net (and I got a supplementary list from Colleen when we talked on Tuesday). But I don't have flight or hotel info. At all. Colleen? You listening?
(Though to be fair, I'm teasing her a little. She only promised me the itinerary by the end of this week, which in Publisher Time means before the close of business next Thursday.)
2) Though the book seems to be all over the goddamn Internet by now, nobody's sent an advance copy to ME . . . which means I get to go through security checks with a one-way ticket. Loads of fun. "No, REALLY, I'm on a BOOK tour . . . well, I don't have the book WITH me . . ."
3) I am damned close to broke. It's been a (to paraphrase George Harrison) long cold lonely fucking winter. [EDITED BY THE BORG. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.]
4) My meds are only half working. I'm mobile and functioning and will remain so, but can I just say . . . ow . . . ?
5) The AOL/Moviefone tour blog thing is still supposed to be happening, except they haven't gotten the software to me yet, and we're kinda running out of time.
6) I continue to maintain, despite how the above may read, my Jedi calm. This shit is entirely out of my hands; I leave success and failure entirely to the whims of the gods, the Force and the Random House publicity department, in that order. I will be squeezing every drop of enjoyment from my 15 minutes . . . er, 30 days . . . of nascent celebrity, and I continue to believe that somehow everything will work out just fine.
Because somehow it usually does.
It's not unlike working a blisteringly busy shift at a high-end restaurant -- which, as many of you know, I have done many, many times in my long career. When you're in the middle of it and things look like they're about to start going wrong, it seems like the fucking Apocalypse. But at the end of the shift, you count your money and go home. Meanwhile, nobody died.
Which is the main reason I became a bartender instead of a cop, a doctor, a fireman or a soldier.
And so far, nothing has ACTUALLY gone wrong. It's just the damned full-body migraine that makes it feel like it's going to, and I'll get over that by the time I'm on the flight to Raleigh.
Tally Ho!
Monday, March 14
Geekgasm
Okay, I've officially had my first REVENGE OF THE SITH geekgasm.
I watched GWL's interview on 60 MINUTES last night, and thus got to see my first Actual Glimpses of The Duel. And some of the new Capital Ship combat.
Oy.
Listen: I KNOW EVERYTHING THAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN IN THIS FILM, AND I CAN'T FUCKING WAIT TO SEE IT.
I mean, let's face it: even you spoiler-free bastards are kiddin' yourselves, y'know? You already know everything important that's going to happen, too. You just don't know how it's going to look.
Well, neither do I.
But I got a hint of it last night.
Oy.
Oy muckersplatter freakin' geVALT.
I watched GWL's interview on 60 MINUTES last night, and thus got to see my first Actual Glimpses of The Duel. And some of the new Capital Ship combat.
Oy.
Listen: I KNOW EVERYTHING THAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN IN THIS FILM, AND I CAN'T FUCKING WAIT TO SEE IT.
I mean, let's face it: even you spoiler-free bastards are kiddin' yourselves, y'know? You already know everything important that's going to happen, too. You just don't know how it's going to look.
Well, neither do I.
But I got a hint of it last night.
Oy.
Oy muckersplatter freakin' geVALT.
Thursday, March 10
Warming Up
I am now officially In Training for the Great Friggin' Gonzo Revenge of the Sith Tour.
For the next few days I'll will be testing the muscles of my right hand in a wholly unfamiliar way . . . signing a THOUSAND FREAKIN' BOOKS.
The Special Edition, doncha know.
But it's a good way to get in shape.
Writer's cramp is a serious danger for typin' pussies like me, if I have to be signing three or four hundred books at a crack, maybe twice a day, five or six days a week . . .
Oh, my poor hand . . .
Your heart's just pumping pisswater for me, ain't it?
For the next few days I'll will be testing the muscles of my right hand in a wholly unfamiliar way . . . signing a THOUSAND FREAKIN' BOOKS.
The Special Edition, doncha know.
But it's a good way to get in shape.
Writer's cramp is a serious danger for typin' pussies like me, if I have to be signing three or four hundred books at a crack, maybe twice a day, five or six days a week . . .
Oh, my poor hand . . .
Your heart's just pumping pisswater for me, ain't it?
Thursday, March 3
Ahh, the price of (almost semi-)fame . . .
Again with the misinterpretations . . .
Never did I write while under the influence. Never ever ever.
Well, okay, once.
I wrote a play in college, a screwball comedy called A PERFECTLY RATIONAL ADJUSTMENT, in which the main character was a famous playwright who'd gone bonkers and now believed he was the main character in one of his own plays (which were all screwball comedies . . .).
I did the first draft -- working late at night, after all homework and such was complete -- by downing three shots of Bacardi 151 and then typing as fast as I could until I couldn't see the keys any more (usually about twenty minutes to half an hour). Then I'd go pass out.
But that was only the first draft. And, by the way, it was terrible. I had to rewrite it six times. Sober.
Anyone who's taken a close look at my work -- especially my Caine books -- will, I think, understand that stories of such intricacy are not to be attempted while under the influence of anything except caffeine (in small, regulated doses) and massive amounts of tortilla chips. And sometimes chocolate.
The cocktails were poured only after all work for the day was complete. And they may be again.
A lot depends on how my body adjusts to the meds.
We shall see.
Again with the misinterpretations . . .
Never did I write while under the influence. Never ever ever.
Well, okay, once.
I wrote a play in college, a screwball comedy called A PERFECTLY RATIONAL ADJUSTMENT, in which the main character was a famous playwright who'd gone bonkers and now believed he was the main character in one of his own plays (which were all screwball comedies . . .).
I did the first draft -- working late at night, after all homework and such was complete -- by downing three shots of Bacardi 151 and then typing as fast as I could until I couldn't see the keys any more (usually about twenty minutes to half an hour). Then I'd go pass out.
But that was only the first draft. And, by the way, it was terrible. I had to rewrite it six times. Sober.
Anyone who's taken a close look at my work -- especially my Caine books -- will, I think, understand that stories of such intricacy are not to be attempted while under the influence of anything except caffeine (in small, regulated doses) and massive amounts of tortilla chips. And sometimes chocolate.
The cocktails were poured only after all work for the day was complete. And they may be again.
A lot depends on how my body adjusts to the meds.
We shall see.
Tuesday, March 1
I'm Ruined
I'm Fucking Ruined.
They're gonna throw me out of the Real Serious Writer's Club.
That's right: I've quit drinking.
Not by choice, I assure you. It was an experiment, at the behest of my beloved wife, to dry out for a while and see if avoiding the whole Scotch/bourbon/cognac Devil's Triangle helped my migraine syndrome.
Well, it didn't.
However . . . something in my metabolism (or my meds) has changed in the meantime. Everything tastes like crap. I can't even finish a solid dram without getting queasy -- shit, I can't even THINK about it without getting queasy.
Boy, I am in trouble now.
How am I gonna survive the Great Friggin' Gonzo Revenge of the Sith Tour stone cold rumphumpin' SOBER?
All I can do is start praying to Dionysios that I get over this before April 2 . . .
They're gonna throw me out of the Real Serious Writer's Club.
That's right: I've quit drinking.
Not by choice, I assure you. It was an experiment, at the behest of my beloved wife, to dry out for a while and see if avoiding the whole Scotch/bourbon/cognac Devil's Triangle helped my migraine syndrome.
Well, it didn't.
However . . . something in my metabolism (or my meds) has changed in the meantime. Everything tastes like crap. I can't even finish a solid dram without getting queasy -- shit, I can't even THINK about it without getting queasy.
Boy, I am in trouble now.
How am I gonna survive the Great Friggin' Gonzo Revenge of the Sith Tour stone cold rumphumpin' SOBER?
All I can do is start praying to Dionysios that I get over this before April 2 . . .
Friday, February 18
Trust Me
Here I am, trying to calm people down, and I seem to be whipping them up.
Does it work the other way, too?
Anyway, here's the Real Fucking Deal:
Trust Me.
You Will Not Be Disappointed.
I Do Not Hold Anything Back.
The point is that I'm just Better At Shit now than I was when I wrote HEROES DIE. I'm better than I was when I wrote BLADE. And I have absolutely no interest in repeating myself in my work; the lovingly pornographic violence in HEROES DIE is there for a reason. If I need it again, I'll use it again, but I have, I believe, since developed new and more powerful techniques for achieving emotional and intellectual affect, and I'm gonna use them. All of them.
That's all.
Fear Not, Beloved Readers.
Shit, folks, remember that I am the author of the Dead Cities Artists' Pledge.
Those of you who don't know what the fuck I'm talking about should run, don't walk, RUN, on over to [dead cities ver3.0] right now.
right here
I'll see you there.
Does it work the other way, too?
Anyway, here's the Real Fucking Deal:
Trust Me.
You Will Not Be Disappointed.
I Do Not Hold Anything Back.
The point is that I'm just Better At Shit now than I was when I wrote HEROES DIE. I'm better than I was when I wrote BLADE. And I have absolutely no interest in repeating myself in my work; the lovingly pornographic violence in HEROES DIE is there for a reason. If I need it again, I'll use it again, but I have, I believe, since developed new and more powerful techniques for achieving emotional and intellectual affect, and I'm gonna use them. All of them.
That's all.
Fear Not, Beloved Readers.
Shit, folks, remember that I am the author of the Dead Cities Artists' Pledge.
Those of you who don't know what the fuck I'm talking about should run, don't walk, RUN, on over to [dead cities ver3.0] right now.
right here
I'll see you there.
Thursday, February 17
Correction
I'm issuing an official correction . . .
I think some people got the wrong idea from yesterday's post.
Look, nobody at Del Rey has insisted or demanded that I de-violenciate CAINE BLACK KNIFE. There has been some discussion about the level of graphic description of violence in the Overworld stories, but much of it has come at my own instigation.
I am very aware that CAINE BLACK KNIFE and DEAD MAN'S HEART are Caine's Last Best Shot at Making It . . . if he doesn't break out, he -- and Overworld -- are dead, as far as the publishing industry goes. So I asked Chris Schleup (my editor at Del Rey) straight out what he thought I could do, as a writer, to help prevent CBK from becoming the same kind of spectacular flop, sales-wise, that HEROES DIE was.
He told me that Del Rey is aware that the floppitude of HEROES DIE had more to do with marketing and packaging failure on their part than with the quality of the book itself (which is why they plan a re-package in conjunction with the release of CBK), but that he and the Powers That Be are of the opinion that some people are turned off by the exceedingly fierce and graphic descriptions of violence and suffering in HD and BLADE.
This, my good friends, is something we all know to be true.
Most people who read fantasy are looking for THE WIZARD OF OZ -- y'know, Baum wrote those books because he thought that traditional fairy tales were too scary and violent? If he'd lived to see the film made from the first of his Oz books, he would have sued the fucking studio for making the Wicked Witch of the West so, well, wicked, and for making the flying monkeys give kids nightmares . . .
So I've got a double-switch going in CBK. I've learned so much about controlling esthetic distance and using psychological closure while writing these three Star Wars novels, that I get to do shit in CBK that's actually WORSE than most of the stuff in HD or BLADE . . . but I get to do the RESERVOIR DOGS thing, where the worst of it happens in your imagination . . .
So I get to look at the beancounters and say, "Graphic violence? Where? Which sentence?"
"Well, okay, that one . . . but that's an isolated case. Except for that one there. Okay, there's one more, but really . . ."
It's honestly not a question of standing firm. This isn't about artistic integrity. I don't have any.
I can only write what I can write. I literally CAN'T do it any other way . . .
I am who I am.
I think some people got the wrong idea from yesterday's post.
Look, nobody at Del Rey has insisted or demanded that I de-violenciate CAINE BLACK KNIFE. There has been some discussion about the level of graphic description of violence in the Overworld stories, but much of it has come at my own instigation.
I am very aware that CAINE BLACK KNIFE and DEAD MAN'S HEART are Caine's Last Best Shot at Making It . . . if he doesn't break out, he -- and Overworld -- are dead, as far as the publishing industry goes. So I asked Chris Schleup (my editor at Del Rey) straight out what he thought I could do, as a writer, to help prevent CBK from becoming the same kind of spectacular flop, sales-wise, that HEROES DIE was.
He told me that Del Rey is aware that the floppitude of HEROES DIE had more to do with marketing and packaging failure on their part than with the quality of the book itself (which is why they plan a re-package in conjunction with the release of CBK), but that he and the Powers That Be are of the opinion that some people are turned off by the exceedingly fierce and graphic descriptions of violence and suffering in HD and BLADE.
This, my good friends, is something we all know to be true.
Most people who read fantasy are looking for THE WIZARD OF OZ -- y'know, Baum wrote those books because he thought that traditional fairy tales were too scary and violent? If he'd lived to see the film made from the first of his Oz books, he would have sued the fucking studio for making the Wicked Witch of the West so, well, wicked, and for making the flying monkeys give kids nightmares . . .
So I've got a double-switch going in CBK. I've learned so much about controlling esthetic distance and using psychological closure while writing these three Star Wars novels, that I get to do shit in CBK that's actually WORSE than most of the stuff in HD or BLADE . . . but I get to do the RESERVOIR DOGS thing, where the worst of it happens in your imagination . . .
So I get to look at the beancounters and say, "Graphic violence? Where? Which sentence?"
"Well, okay, that one . . . but that's an isolated case. Except for that one there. Okay, there's one more, but really . . ."
It's honestly not a question of standing firm. This isn't about artistic integrity. I don't have any.
I can only write what I can write. I literally CAN'T do it any other way . . .
I am who I am.
Wednesday, February 16
GFGROTSTB pt 2
One of these days I'm gonna have to learn how to actually USE a computer, as opposed to just typing on one.
One of those old Mac macros would be useful, so I don't have to type Great Friggin' Gonzo REVENGE OF THE SITH Tour Blog Entry #Whateverthefuck each time I update it.
Anyway, TheForce.Net reports that I now have five cities confirmed on the Right Coast, and the GFGROTST is spreading toward the Left like one of those virus projections on 24 . . .
So that's all. No real news, other than I just cut 20000 words out of CAINE BLACK KNIFE.
Yes, that's the right number of zeroes.
Twenty thousand fucking words.
My recon/retcon of the story has rendered superfluous a great deal of the shit over which I have squeezed blood from my own eyeballs to create.
For example, in my orginal (now vanished) version, Act One consisted of interleaved episodes from the "modern day" [some 3 years post-BLADE] and flashes of the uncut, unedited Master of RETREAT FROM THE BOEDECKEN, the Adventure that made Caine a star, in roughly 15 - 20 page increments . . . just enough to deliver quick smacks of action and emotional content . . . and they were arranged in such a way to elegantly contrast and comment upon each other, to set the older and theoretically more mature Caine against his 25-year-old self . . . it was all very artistic, and literary, and would have given someone a swell subject for his or her masters thesis in Litcritshit a hundred years from now.
But y'know, screw that shitpile.
The other day I decided to see what the story would look like if I put all the RETREAT stuff together. Right in a row. Which is not how I wrote it to be, but what the hell.
It turned out to be eighty pages that literally had me jumping out of my chair. Jesus, what a vicious little sonofabitch he was . . .
On the other hand, The Powers that Be -- who were hoping that the violence would be toned down -- well . . .
It IS toned down.
As long as you don't have a vivid imagination.
As Caine would say, I am who I am.
Fuckin' sue me.
One of those old Mac macros would be useful, so I don't have to type Great Friggin' Gonzo REVENGE OF THE SITH Tour Blog Entry #Whateverthefuck each time I update it.
Anyway, TheForce.Net reports that I now have five cities confirmed on the Right Coast, and the GFGROTST is spreading toward the Left like one of those virus projections on 24 . . .
So that's all. No real news, other than I just cut 20000 words out of CAINE BLACK KNIFE.
Yes, that's the right number of zeroes.
Twenty thousand fucking words.
My recon/retcon of the story has rendered superfluous a great deal of the shit over which I have squeezed blood from my own eyeballs to create.
For example, in my orginal (now vanished) version, Act One consisted of interleaved episodes from the "modern day" [some 3 years post-BLADE] and flashes of the uncut, unedited Master of RETREAT FROM THE BOEDECKEN, the Adventure that made Caine a star, in roughly 15 - 20 page increments . . . just enough to deliver quick smacks of action and emotional content . . . and they were arranged in such a way to elegantly contrast and comment upon each other, to set the older and theoretically more mature Caine against his 25-year-old self . . . it was all very artistic, and literary, and would have given someone a swell subject for his or her masters thesis in Litcritshit a hundred years from now.
But y'know, screw that shitpile.
The other day I decided to see what the story would look like if I put all the RETREAT stuff together. Right in a row. Which is not how I wrote it to be, but what the hell.
It turned out to be eighty pages that literally had me jumping out of my chair. Jesus, what a vicious little sonofabitch he was . . .
On the other hand, The Powers that Be -- who were hoping that the violence would be toned down -- well . . .
It IS toned down.
As long as you don't have a vivid imagination.
As Caine would say, I am who I am.
Fuckin' sue me.
Saturday, February 12
And they're OFF!
The Great Friggin' Gonzo REVENGE OF THE SITH Tour log
Part One
Seems early for Part One, don't it? I thought so too, till I checked in over at The Force.Net in my author thread, there to find, much to my surprise, that the tour will begin . . .
Yes, We Have a Winner -- check your office pools -- the tour will begin . . .
(wait for it . . .)
April 2 in Raleigh-Durham, North CAROLINA!
Woo-HOO!
Now, if I can just get them to tell ME this stuff . . .
Part One
Seems early for Part One, don't it? I thought so too, till I checked in over at The Force.Net in my author thread, there to find, much to my surprise, that the tour will begin . . .
Yes, We Have a Winner -- check your office pools -- the tour will begin . . .
(wait for it . . .)
April 2 in Raleigh-Durham, North CAROLINA!
Woo-HOO!
Now, if I can just get them to tell ME this stuff . . .
Friday, February 11
Y'know, I don't want to harp on the political shit, but Jesus CHRIST, look at what they're doing to my country:
Hey, We Fucking Torture Innocent Civilian Citizens of Friendly Countries Tra La
[html tutorial courtesy of the inimitable Chris M. (Ticketman) Billet.]
George Bush's first term made me embarrassed to be American.
His second term is threatening to make me furious.
How long beffore we start doing this to our own citizens? Oh, wait, sorry, we already have -- a kid who got shipped to Saudi Arabia.
If I disappear sometime this year, look for me in Syria.
Hey, We Fucking Torture Innocent Civilian Citizens of Friendly Countries Tra La
[html tutorial courtesy of the inimitable Chris M. (Ticketman) Billet.]
George Bush's first term made me embarrassed to be American.
His second term is threatening to make me furious.
How long beffore we start doing this to our own citizens? Oh, wait, sorry, we already have -- a kid who got shipped to Saudi Arabia.
If I disappear sometime this year, look for me in Syria.
Monday, February 7
Anybody not smell the swastikas yet?
Thanks to Shevchyk yet again for the following, which I'm reposting for those of you too lazy to read the comments.
http://www.amconmag.com/2005_02_14/article.html
You have to read this essay. It's the GODDAMN AMERICAN CONSERVATIVE, for Christ's sake.
It just goes to show that I've been tell the fucking truth all along: that this is not a liberal issue.
Shit, I'm not a liberal. I'm an American.
Every goddamn public school and courthouse that wants to enshrine the Ten Commandments should erect, instead, stone tablets engraved with a vastly more important document: the Bill of Rights.
The Declaration of Independence is a more important statement of human aspiration than the Sermon on the Mount.
And the Bushitters are killing them. Both.
Funny thing is, this is a running theme of my fiction, too. It's that blind god thing. The hunger for easy answers. "They're EEeevil and Must Be Destroyed!" The need to belong. The willingness to be lied to, as long as we like the lies . . .
The simple need to be told what to think.
Try the following on for size, the true story of three innocent British citizens imprisoned at Guantanamo Bay, without trial or legal recourse of any kind, for nearly two years.
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/02/07/opinion/7herbert.html
Wake up and smell the swastikas, indeed.
Thanks to Shevchyk yet again for the following, which I'm reposting for those of you too lazy to read the comments.
http://www.amconmag.com/2005_02_14/article.html
You have to read this essay. It's the GODDAMN AMERICAN CONSERVATIVE, for Christ's sake.
It just goes to show that I've been tell the fucking truth all along: that this is not a liberal issue.
Shit, I'm not a liberal. I'm an American.
Every goddamn public school and courthouse that wants to enshrine the Ten Commandments should erect, instead, stone tablets engraved with a vastly more important document: the Bill of Rights.
The Declaration of Independence is a more important statement of human aspiration than the Sermon on the Mount.
And the Bushitters are killing them. Both.
Funny thing is, this is a running theme of my fiction, too. It's that blind god thing. The hunger for easy answers. "They're EEeevil and Must Be Destroyed!" The need to belong. The willingness to be lied to, as long as we like the lies . . .
The simple need to be told what to think.
Try the following on for size, the true story of three innocent British citizens imprisoned at Guantanamo Bay, without trial or legal recourse of any kind, for nearly two years.
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/02/07/opinion/7herbert.html
Wake up and smell the swastikas, indeed.
Friday, February 4
We are the Empire.
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/02/04/opinion/4herbert.html
Is anybody out there?
Is anybody LISTENING?
Jesus CHRIST. What does it TAKE for people in this country to WAKE UP AND SMELL THE FUCKING SWASTIKAS?
But Wait, There's More!
A relevant quote:
Two years ago, an unnamed Bush aide told Suskind, "We're an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you're studying that reality—judiciously, as you will—we'll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that's how things will sort out. We're history's actors ... and you, all of you, will be left to just study what we do."
You can find the rest in Jack Shafer's SLATE.com article at the address below.
http://www.slate.com/Default.aspx?id=2113052&
Does anyone out there still think this is just some kind of fucking joke?
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/02/04/opinion/4herbert.html
Is anybody out there?
Is anybody LISTENING?
Jesus CHRIST. What does it TAKE for people in this country to WAKE UP AND SMELL THE FUCKING SWASTIKAS?
But Wait, There's More!
A relevant quote:
Two years ago, an unnamed Bush aide told Suskind, "We're an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you're studying that reality—judiciously, as you will—we'll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that's how things will sort out. We're history's actors ... and you, all of you, will be left to just study what we do."
You can find the rest in Jack Shafer's SLATE.com article at the address below.
http://www.slate.com/Default.aspx?id=2113052&
Does anyone out there still think this is just some kind of fucking joke?
Wednesday, February 2
So this guy writes in to my forum over at SFFWorld. (This is not, by the way, the set-up to a joke.) He's been hearing about me, but he's never read me. He's been through the current crop of Quality Shit: Tolkien, Martin, Hobb, and he confesses to having read Eddings and Feist in his misspent youth. And he wants me to tell him why he should read my work.
After a moment's thought, this strikes me as an entirely legitimate question.
What makes me think I'm so special, anyway?
Well, I started to compose my standard lecture on the Consolatory vs. the Subversive in art. Those of you who've been around here for any length of time know that it's an article of faith with me that all honest art is inherently subversive; to paraphrase Tan'elKoth, "It is a truism that to a hammer, the world looks like a nail; the glory of art is that it can show this hammer how the world looks to a screwdriver. And to a sculptor's chisel. And vice versa."
Consolatory fiction (I can't bear to refer to it as art) is in the business of telling all the hammers out there that everything really IS a nail -- to suggest otherwise runs the risk of softening their solid steel heads . . .
[Which, of course, is exactly what got me into trouble with so many Star Wars fans -- and why so many of them hate the NJO in general. Star Wars was, for them, the ultimate in Consolatory Fiction. Opening a Star Wars novel was like sitting down to a Hollywood version of Thanksgiving dinner: no surprises, no danger, just a tasty feast that'd leave you sleepy and content. Nothing upsetting. Nothing to think about.
Which is why the climax of VECTOR PRIME resulted in Bob Salvatore getting death threats.
Which is why -- may the gods have mercy on their poor pathetic souls -- some few fanfreaks have gone so far as to claim that George fucking LUCAS is ruining Star Wars with the Prequels . . . because it's not spotless Dudley Do-Rights inevitably triumphing over irreedeemable Snidely Whiplashes . . .
Shit, some kid got so freaked out by TRAITOR that he wrote into The Force.Net BEGGING me not to ruin Star Wars with relativist heresy (not that anything in TRAITOR advocates relativism -- just the opposite, but plenty of people just aren't bright enough to figure that out) . . . and even the possiblity that there might be anything resembling moral ambiguity in the Galaxy Far Far Away was so upsetting that it completely blew this guy's mind. Poor bastard. They all want Player's Handbook Universe -- y'know, as long as you never actually throw Force Lightning, you haven't fallen yet . . .
What none of these guys realize is that Star Wars was never as black/white as they pretended it was -- it's not about the triumph of the Rebellion, it's about Luke's triumph over himself. " . . .remember your failure at the cave . . ." But that's a subject for another post -- probably to wait for the REVENGE OF THE SITH release.]
Anyway, here I was ramping up to unleash the long version of this lecture upon the unsuspecting head of this poor bastard, when I realized that I'd better shut the fuck up about it.
Here's the thing: I realized that at this point in my career, people who've read me faithfully -- especially the Caine books and the SW books -- can now, at least in theory, find my own fiction just as consolatory as any installment of the Young Jedi Knights.
You all have a pretty good idea how I see the world. Opening one of my books brings you into a reality where you -- through prior experience of my writing -- have a pretty good idea of what the rules are [i.e. victory is expensive, pure intentions count for fuck all, it's good to be skilled but it's better to be lucky -- y'know, the usual crap.).
Since most of you know this shit already, before you ever crack the cover -- since most of you crack that cover at least in part BECAUSE YOU WANT TO READ A STORY WHERE SHIT WORKS THAT WAY . . . my work isn't actually subversive anymore. Not for you.
Which is giving me kind of a pain in the crack.
Because I like to shake people up a little. Make you question your assumptions.
But on the other hand, what the hell can I do about it?
Write a fucking Quest Against the Dark Lord?
I don't think I can lie in a novel. Not well, anyway.
So what the hell do I do to shake up the people who already agree with me? What do I show people who've already seen what I've got?
I am not asking for answers, here. Nor am I fishing for "Buck up, big guy," comments.
I am merely relating the story of an uncomfortable revelation, which leads me to the reply I gave the guy over as SFFWorld. I told him --
I don't think you "should" read me. I think you should read what you like.
And I don't have a better answer than that.
After a moment's thought, this strikes me as an entirely legitimate question.
What makes me think I'm so special, anyway?
Well, I started to compose my standard lecture on the Consolatory vs. the Subversive in art. Those of you who've been around here for any length of time know that it's an article of faith with me that all honest art is inherently subversive; to paraphrase Tan'elKoth, "It is a truism that to a hammer, the world looks like a nail; the glory of art is that it can show this hammer how the world looks to a screwdriver. And to a sculptor's chisel. And vice versa."
Consolatory fiction (I can't bear to refer to it as art) is in the business of telling all the hammers out there that everything really IS a nail -- to suggest otherwise runs the risk of softening their solid steel heads . . .
[Which, of course, is exactly what got me into trouble with so many Star Wars fans -- and why so many of them hate the NJO in general. Star Wars was, for them, the ultimate in Consolatory Fiction. Opening a Star Wars novel was like sitting down to a Hollywood version of Thanksgiving dinner: no surprises, no danger, just a tasty feast that'd leave you sleepy and content. Nothing upsetting. Nothing to think about.
Which is why the climax of VECTOR PRIME resulted in Bob Salvatore getting death threats.
Which is why -- may the gods have mercy on their poor pathetic souls -- some few fanfreaks have gone so far as to claim that George fucking LUCAS is ruining Star Wars with the Prequels . . . because it's not spotless Dudley Do-Rights inevitably triumphing over irreedeemable Snidely Whiplashes . . .
Shit, some kid got so freaked out by TRAITOR that he wrote into The Force.Net BEGGING me not to ruin Star Wars with relativist heresy (not that anything in TRAITOR advocates relativism -- just the opposite, but plenty of people just aren't bright enough to figure that out) . . . and even the possiblity that there might be anything resembling moral ambiguity in the Galaxy Far Far Away was so upsetting that it completely blew this guy's mind. Poor bastard. They all want Player's Handbook Universe -- y'know, as long as you never actually throw Force Lightning, you haven't fallen yet . . .
What none of these guys realize is that Star Wars was never as black/white as they pretended it was -- it's not about the triumph of the Rebellion, it's about Luke's triumph over himself. " . . .remember your failure at the cave . . ." But that's a subject for another post -- probably to wait for the REVENGE OF THE SITH release.]
Anyway, here I was ramping up to unleash the long version of this lecture upon the unsuspecting head of this poor bastard, when I realized that I'd better shut the fuck up about it.
Here's the thing: I realized that at this point in my career, people who've read me faithfully -- especially the Caine books and the SW books -- can now, at least in theory, find my own fiction just as consolatory as any installment of the Young Jedi Knights.
You all have a pretty good idea how I see the world. Opening one of my books brings you into a reality where you -- through prior experience of my writing -- have a pretty good idea of what the rules are [i.e. victory is expensive, pure intentions count for fuck all, it's good to be skilled but it's better to be lucky -- y'know, the usual crap.).
Since most of you know this shit already, before you ever crack the cover -- since most of you crack that cover at least in part BECAUSE YOU WANT TO READ A STORY WHERE SHIT WORKS THAT WAY . . . my work isn't actually subversive anymore. Not for you.
Which is giving me kind of a pain in the crack.
Because I like to shake people up a little. Make you question your assumptions.
But on the other hand, what the hell can I do about it?
Write a fucking Quest Against the Dark Lord?
I don't think I can lie in a novel. Not well, anyway.
So what the hell do I do to shake up the people who already agree with me? What do I show people who've already seen what I've got?
I am not asking for answers, here. Nor am I fishing for "Buck up, big guy," comments.
I am merely relating the story of an uncomfortable revelation, which leads me to the reply I gave the guy over as SFFWorld. I told him --
I don't think you "should" read me. I think you should read what you like.
And I don't have a better answer than that.
Saturday, January 29
Happy Fucking Birthday Mr Stover
Happy Birthday to Me
Y'know what I want for my birthday?
"Offer me money . . ."
"Yeah, money -- tax cuts are good fer ever'body . . ."
"Offer me anything I want . . ."
"Yes . . . property in the middle east . . . yes, anything. ANYTHING!"
I want my country back, you son of a bitch.
Where's John Dean when you need him?
I have an idea. Fuck pledging allegiance to the flag. Let's pledge allegiance to the Constitution.
That's what I did.
That's what I thought Bush did. Apparently he had other ideas . . .
It's that old conservative shuffle. We are men of principle -- right up until those principles might get in the way of power. Then we're just men.
At best.
Ahh, I always get cranky on my birthday.
Y'know what I want for my birthday?
"Offer me money . . ."
"Yeah, money -- tax cuts are good fer ever'body . . ."
"Offer me anything I want . . ."
"Yes . . . property in the middle east . . . yes, anything. ANYTHING!"
I want my country back, you son of a bitch.
Where's John Dean when you need him?
I have an idea. Fuck pledging allegiance to the flag. Let's pledge allegiance to the Constitution.
That's what I did.
That's what I thought Bush did. Apparently he had other ideas . . .
It's that old conservative shuffle. We are men of principle -- right up until those principles might get in the way of power. Then we're just men.
At best.
Ahh, I always get cranky on my birthday.
Friday, January 28
Updates
Hey, Gang.
Here's the news . . .
First, the Star Wars stuff:
The Great Staggering Friggin' Gonzo Sith Tour is on -- apparently there is sufficient interest in my not-so-humble RotSing self that Del Rey is going to flog my aging ass across the whole country, though specific stops and schedule are not yet set, excepting Star Wars Celebration in Indy, which I will be Wildly Celebrating along with all the other fandroids . . .
Colleen the Publicist from Hell also wants me to keep a tour log, and post it here.
Which I think is a great idea, so I'm gonna do it. Watch this space, Gentle Reader.
Though I will not be dishing any of the dirty stuff . . . because, y'know, I'm shy, and all I want is for everyone to LIKE me . . .
Oh, okay. Save your cards and letters, huh?
The Caine Update:
I have also spoken with His Honorable Schleupness on Caine's Future . . .
CAINE BLACK KNIFE is most likely to be another trade, not unlike BLADE OF TYSHALLE. He says the only way he's likely to be able to squeeze a hardcover out of the Powers That Be is if I make CBK a virtual stand-alone.
Which I'm just not sure is going to work.
At any rate, I can't make it anything other than what it's going to be. I'm writing what I'm writing. That's the only way I can do it. I've spent four books in a row writing on other people's terms, and I AM FUCKING DONE WITH IT.
Well, until the next time somebody offers me a huge wad of money and a book tour, anyway.
There may be re-issues of HD and BoT in trades, though -- or possibly an omnibus -- though when I reminded Chris that this omnibus would total half a million words, I could hear the *doink* all the way from New York.
Anyway, I'm thinking right now that the best thing that could happen for Caine might be for HD and BoT to be re-issued in trade with NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR under my name, and nice bold letters saying --
THE ACTS OF CAINE: ACT OF VIOLENCE
ACT OF WAR
ACT OF ATONEMENT
-- and that kind of shit.
Here endeth the update.
Here's the news . . .
First, the Star Wars stuff:
The Great Staggering Friggin' Gonzo Sith Tour is on -- apparently there is sufficient interest in my not-so-humble RotSing self that Del Rey is going to flog my aging ass across the whole country, though specific stops and schedule are not yet set, excepting Star Wars Celebration in Indy, which I will be Wildly Celebrating along with all the other fandroids . . .
Colleen the Publicist from Hell also wants me to keep a tour log, and post it here.
Which I think is a great idea, so I'm gonna do it. Watch this space, Gentle Reader.
Though I will not be dishing any of the dirty stuff . . . because, y'know, I'm shy, and all I want is for everyone to LIKE me . . .
Oh, okay. Save your cards and letters, huh?
The Caine Update:
I have also spoken with His Honorable Schleupness on Caine's Future . . .
CAINE BLACK KNIFE is most likely to be another trade, not unlike BLADE OF TYSHALLE. He says the only way he's likely to be able to squeeze a hardcover out of the Powers That Be is if I make CBK a virtual stand-alone.
Which I'm just not sure is going to work.
At any rate, I can't make it anything other than what it's going to be. I'm writing what I'm writing. That's the only way I can do it. I've spent four books in a row writing on other people's terms, and I AM FUCKING DONE WITH IT.
Well, until the next time somebody offers me a huge wad of money and a book tour, anyway.
There may be re-issues of HD and BoT in trades, though -- or possibly an omnibus -- though when I reminded Chris that this omnibus would total half a million words, I could hear the *doink* all the way from New York.
Anyway, I'm thinking right now that the best thing that could happen for Caine might be for HD and BoT to be re-issued in trade with NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR under my name, and nice bold letters saying --
THE ACTS OF CAINE: ACT OF VIOLENCE
ACT OF WAR
ACT OF ATONEMENT
-- and that kind of shit.
Here endeth the update.
Sunday, January 23
and more
More cheerful shit:
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/01/23/arts/23rich.html
Frank Rich has become one of my favorite lefties. He does social and political commentary as seen through the lens of popular arts & media -- usually TV and film -- and he's really, really good at it. Terrific writer, too.
For you Caine fans out there:
Right now, it looks like I might be able to retcon my recon of CBK, to save most of the 200-plus pages already written; it's hard to say. The pieces are a jumble right now . . . I've tossed them up into the fog, and they descend in a slow-motion tumble. I have a hunch that they will click into place, but right now it's only a hunch.
It's exactly the sensation described in HEROES DIE, when Caine's preconceived notions of the situation are shattered and the shards fall into a new shape.
It just hasn't quite happened yet. The old brain just ain't as fast as it used to be.
Probably the meds.
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/01/23/arts/23rich.html
Frank Rich has become one of my favorite lefties. He does social and political commentary as seen through the lens of popular arts & media -- usually TV and film -- and he's really, really good at it. Terrific writer, too.
For you Caine fans out there:
Right now, it looks like I might be able to retcon my recon of CBK, to save most of the 200-plus pages already written; it's hard to say. The pieces are a jumble right now . . . I've tossed them up into the fog, and they descend in a slow-motion tumble. I have a hunch that they will click into place, but right now it's only a hunch.
It's exactly the sensation described in HEROES DIE, when Caine's preconceived notions of the situation are shattered and the shards fall into a new shape.
It just hasn't quite happened yet. The old brain just ain't as fast as it used to be.
Probably the meds.
Friday, January 21
Christ help the United States
Monday, January 17
Holy Shit I'm back
Holy Shit, I'm Back . . . !
Thanks again to the (mostly) indefatigable -- or at least unsinkable -- gabe [hypermode] chouinard.
Looking over my final post from the beginning of October, I discover that (thanks this time to the truly indefatigable folks at LFL and Mr George Lucas) I am STILL in the process of hammering out the final reconceptualization of CAINE BLACK KNIFE, because every time I start to make headway, they come back to me with more LAST MINUTE SCREAMINGLY IMPORTANT GOTTA GET THIS FUCKING THING DONE CRAP on REVENGE OF THE SITH.
On the plus side, tho' --
That's all done now, and I think it's gonna be really really good. Finally saw what appears to be the cover art, too.
Cooooool.
On CAINE BLACK KNIFE:
Less pensive. More asskicking. Not so much Conrad. Not even Hemingway. More HD than BoT. More Chandler than Tolstoy.
I'm having fun with it, now.
Just wait.
Thanks again to the (mostly) indefatigable -- or at least unsinkable -- gabe [hypermode] chouinard.
Looking over my final post from the beginning of October, I discover that (thanks this time to the truly indefatigable folks at LFL and Mr George Lucas) I am STILL in the process of hammering out the final reconceptualization of CAINE BLACK KNIFE, because every time I start to make headway, they come back to me with more LAST MINUTE SCREAMINGLY IMPORTANT GOTTA GET THIS FUCKING THING DONE CRAP on REVENGE OF THE SITH.
On the plus side, tho' --
That's all done now, and I think it's gonna be really really good. Finally saw what appears to be the cover art, too.
Cooooool.
On CAINE BLACK KNIFE:
Less pensive. More asskicking. Not so much Conrad. Not even Hemingway. More HD than BoT. More Chandler than Tolstoy.
I'm having fun with it, now.
Just wait.
Friday, October 1
Other stuff
I thought (in addition to the political whingeing below) some of you might be interested in the progress of CAINE BLACK KNIFE.
Writing this book has been an interesting process; it's the first time since I starting actually getting paid for this shit that I've been working without a net -- that is, lacking a detailed outline that traces the chain of causation from initiating incident through climax (the technical term is Bond-movie Big Blowoff).
So I'm 60,000 words in, and I discover that there are things (and, in fact, people) Caine actually knew at the beginning of the novel that would have affected how he handles the situation.
So I have spent the last month or so re-conceptualizing the whole fucking thing. Basically, I'm back-creating an outline that will incorporate as much as possible of the work I've already done, changing only where necessary.
The good news is, it's gonna be really, really good. My word on it. The bad news is, now I'm running behind.
As usual.
*sigh*
Writing this book has been an interesting process; it's the first time since I starting actually getting paid for this shit that I've been working without a net -- that is, lacking a detailed outline that traces the chain of causation from initiating incident through climax (the technical term is Bond-movie Big Blowoff).
So I'm 60,000 words in, and I discover that there are things (and, in fact, people) Caine actually knew at the beginning of the novel that would have affected how he handles the situation.
So I have spent the last month or so re-conceptualizing the whole fucking thing. Basically, I'm back-creating an outline that will incorporate as much as possible of the work I've already done, changing only where necessary.
The good news is, it's gonna be really, really good. My word on it. The bad news is, now I'm running behind.
As usual.
*sigh*
Politics
Frankly, I am fucking sick of American politics.
I make the comments below in response to Hawkie's interest in my reaction to the forged documents in the 60 MINUTES piece on Our President's failure to fulfill his National Guard obligations.
The only thing I think worth commenting on is the extraordinary effectiveness of the Republican spin-machine, and how a few RNC operatives posing as neutral bloggers could make that whole story become about the documents themselves, rather than about the truth.
The truth is that every allegation about Mr. Bush's Guard service in that story is factual. It all happened, exactly the way 60 MINUTES said it happened. In fact, no one in the Bush Administration or campaign has even so much as disagreed with the facts of the situation, let alone issued anything resembling an official denial. They prefer to allow their backdoor spin machine to muddy the waters.
I'm not going to draw any connections between Mr. Bush's virtual desertion under fire and his brainless "bring it on" swagger today. Whatever connection there may be is subject to interpretation, and anyone who reads this is welcome to their own.
Everyone has a right to be wrong.
Only in today's America is it wrong to be right.
I make the comments below in response to Hawkie's interest in my reaction to the forged documents in the 60 MINUTES piece on Our President's failure to fulfill his National Guard obligations.
The only thing I think worth commenting on is the extraordinary effectiveness of the Republican spin-machine, and how a few RNC operatives posing as neutral bloggers could make that whole story become about the documents themselves, rather than about the truth.
The truth is that every allegation about Mr. Bush's Guard service in that story is factual. It all happened, exactly the way 60 MINUTES said it happened. In fact, no one in the Bush Administration or campaign has even so much as disagreed with the facts of the situation, let alone issued anything resembling an official denial. They prefer to allow their backdoor spin machine to muddy the waters.
I'm not going to draw any connections between Mr. Bush's virtual desertion under fire and his brainless "bring it on" swagger today. Whatever connection there may be is subject to interpretation, and anyone who reads this is welcome to their own.
Everyone has a right to be wrong.
Only in today's America is it wrong to be right.
Friday, September 17
Hope
Haven't been here for a while. There's been nothing worth sharing.
Until this:
http://www.tompaine.com/articles/journalism_under_fire.php
Read it.
Gods bless Bill Moyers.
Until this:
http://www.tompaine.com/articles/journalism_under_fire.php
Read it.
Gods bless Bill Moyers.
Sunday, September 5
Zell wiggin'
Posted by another Concerned Reader (Judas Priest do I love the Internet or what?):
<< Wanna see something funny?
Something "Zell Miller" funny?
Something that Rip Taylor would take one look at, and shriek, "That's FUNNY!!"?
From the Congressional archival website http://miller.senate.gov/speeches/030101jjdinner.htm:
=======
Introduction of Senator John Kerry
Democratic Party of Georgia's Jefferson-Jackson Dinner
Zell Miller
-- March 1, 2001
"It is good to be back in Georgia and to be with you. I have been coming to these dinners since the 1950s, and have missed very few.
"I'm proud to be Georgia's junior senator and I'm honored to serve with Max Cleland, who is as loved and respected as anyone in that body. One of our very highest priorities must be to make sure this man is re-elected in 2002 so he can continue to serve this state and nation.
"I continue to be impressed with all that Governor Barnes and Lieutenant Governor Taylor and the Speaker and the General Assembly are getting done over at the Gold Dome. Georgia is fortunate to have this kind of leadership.
"My job tonight is an easy one: to present to you one of this nation's authentic heroes, one of this party's best-known and greatest leaders -- and a good friend.
"He was once a lieutenant governor -- but he didn't stay in that office 16 years, like someone else I know. It just took two years before the people of Massachusetts moved him into the United States Senate in 1984.
"In his 16 years in the Senate, John Kerry has fought against government waste and worked hard to bring some accountability to Washington.
"Early in his Senate career in 1986, John signed on to the Gramm-Rudman-Hollings Deficit Reduction Bill, and he fought for balanced budgets before it was considered politically correct for Democrats to do so.
"John has worked to strengthen our military, reform public education, boost the economy and protect the environment. Business Week magazine named him one of the top pro-technology legislators and made him a member of its 'Digital Dozen.'
"John was re-elected in 1990 and again in 1996 -- when he defeated popular Republican Governor William Weld in the most closely watched Senate race in the country.
"John is a graduate of Yale University and was a gunboat officer in the Navy. He received a Silver Star, Bronze Star and three awards of the Purple Heart for combat duty in Vietnam. He later co-founded the Vietnam Veterans of America.
"He is married to Teresa Heinz and they have two daughters.
"As many of you know, I have great affection -- some might say an obsession -- for my two Labrador retrievers, Gus and Woodrow. It turns out John is a fellow dog lover, too, and he better be. His German Shepherd, Kim, is about to have puppies. And I just want him to know...Gus and Woodrow had nothing to do with that.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Senator John Kerry."
=======
LOVED the part about Max Cleland...
# posted by Leto II : 1:07:17 AM>>
Leto, I may someday have to bear your children . . .
<< Wanna see something funny?
Something "Zell Miller" funny?
Something that Rip Taylor would take one look at, and shriek, "That's FUNNY!!"?
From the Congressional archival website http://miller.senate.gov/speeches/030101jjdinner.htm:
=======
Introduction of Senator John Kerry
Democratic Party of Georgia's Jefferson-Jackson Dinner
Zell Miller
-- March 1, 2001
"It is good to be back in Georgia and to be with you. I have been coming to these dinners since the 1950s, and have missed very few.
"I'm proud to be Georgia's junior senator and I'm honored to serve with Max Cleland, who is as loved and respected as anyone in that body. One of our very highest priorities must be to make sure this man is re-elected in 2002 so he can continue to serve this state and nation.
"I continue to be impressed with all that Governor Barnes and Lieutenant Governor Taylor and the Speaker and the General Assembly are getting done over at the Gold Dome. Georgia is fortunate to have this kind of leadership.
"My job tonight is an easy one: to present to you one of this nation's authentic heroes, one of this party's best-known and greatest leaders -- and a good friend.
"He was once a lieutenant governor -- but he didn't stay in that office 16 years, like someone else I know. It just took two years before the people of Massachusetts moved him into the United States Senate in 1984.
"In his 16 years in the Senate, John Kerry has fought against government waste and worked hard to bring some accountability to Washington.
"Early in his Senate career in 1986, John signed on to the Gramm-Rudman-Hollings Deficit Reduction Bill, and he fought for balanced budgets before it was considered politically correct for Democrats to do so.
"John has worked to strengthen our military, reform public education, boost the economy and protect the environment. Business Week magazine named him one of the top pro-technology legislators and made him a member of its 'Digital Dozen.'
"John was re-elected in 1990 and again in 1996 -- when he defeated popular Republican Governor William Weld in the most closely watched Senate race in the country.
"John is a graduate of Yale University and was a gunboat officer in the Navy. He received a Silver Star, Bronze Star and three awards of the Purple Heart for combat duty in Vietnam. He later co-founded the Vietnam Veterans of America.
"He is married to Teresa Heinz and they have two daughters.
"As many of you know, I have great affection -- some might say an obsession -- for my two Labrador retrievers, Gus and Woodrow. It turns out John is a fellow dog lover, too, and he better be. His German Shepherd, Kim, is about to have puppies. And I just want him to know...Gus and Woodrow had nothing to do with that.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Senator John Kerry."
=======
LOVED the part about Max Cleland...
# posted by Leto II : 1:07:17 AM>>
Leto, I may someday have to bear your children . . .
Saturday, September 4
Bushittery
A point from another Concerned Reader (hey, Hawkie, welcome back) that bears public comment.
People need to quit talking about how stupid Bush is.
Because it's a pose. It's a tool he uses to work the country. Like that fake-ass good ol' boy Texas accent. Think he talked that way when he was at Yale?
He PRETENDS to be stupid.
Calling him stupid gives him entirely too much credit. It's an excuse we offer him, because he comes across on TV as a regular guy. We want to believe he just doesn't understand how much damage he is doing to our country. We want to believe his administration does rotten shit because he's too stupid to stop Cheney and Rumsfeld.
Guess again.
People need to quit talking about how stupid Bush is.
Because it's a pose. It's a tool he uses to work the country. Like that fake-ass good ol' boy Texas accent. Think he talked that way when he was at Yale?
He PRETENDS to be stupid.
Calling him stupid gives him entirely too much credit. It's an excuse we offer him, because he comes across on TV as a regular guy. We want to believe he just doesn't understand how much damage he is doing to our country. We want to believe his administration does rotten shit because he's too stupid to stop Cheney and Rumsfeld.
Guess again.
Friday, September 3
RNC
Three thoughts on the Nuremburg Ra -- uh, the Republican National Convention:
1.) Anyone who tells you "things are simple" is trying to sell you something.
2.) When people start talking about good and evil, keep one hand on your wallet.
3.) Zell Miller is batshit insane.
That's all.
1.) Anyone who tells you "things are simple" is trying to sell you something.
2.) When people start talking about good and evil, keep one hand on your wallet.
3.) Zell Miller is batshit insane.
That's all.
Monday, August 30
Dick
On TV last night, I saw something I never expected to see. Never ever.
Are you ready for this?
I saw Dick Cheney TELL THE TRUTH.
Speaking at a party-faithful gathering (which, I guess, is inevitable, because neither Bush nor Cheney ever appears in front of an audience that hasn't been thoroughly scrubbed of liberals, intellectuals, agnostics and other dangerous elements) about the RNC in New York City, Dick Cheney said,
". . . we will come together in New York City for a single purpose: To make sure that George W. Bush is President for the next four years."
He didn't say: "We will present a vision for our nation's future."
He didn't say, "We will prove to the nation that Operation Iraqi Freedom wasn't just a vanity war that has diverted the bulk of our military resources away from the War on Terror."
He didn't say, "We will show the country that George Bush has made us safer, and that his policies have rescued our economy."
Shit, I could make a whole list of the damn lies he's been spouting for three years that yesterday he managed to leave off.
This time, he told the plain unvarnished truth:
"The Republican Party doesn't give a shit about anything except power. Fuck the country, fuck the world, fuck the poor, fuck the old people and the boomers, slaughter civilians by the tens of thousands, let Osama run wild, let the Taliban take over half of Afghanistan, give the militants Fallujah as a permanent base of operations. Fuck everybody. We just want to stay in power."
That's the first time since Bush I I've ever heard Cheney tell the truth.
Are you ready for this?
I saw Dick Cheney TELL THE TRUTH.
Speaking at a party-faithful gathering (which, I guess, is inevitable, because neither Bush nor Cheney ever appears in front of an audience that hasn't been thoroughly scrubbed of liberals, intellectuals, agnostics and other dangerous elements) about the RNC in New York City, Dick Cheney said,
". . . we will come together in New York City for a single purpose: To make sure that George W. Bush is President for the next four years."
He didn't say: "We will present a vision for our nation's future."
He didn't say, "We will prove to the nation that Operation Iraqi Freedom wasn't just a vanity war that has diverted the bulk of our military resources away from the War on Terror."
He didn't say, "We will show the country that George Bush has made us safer, and that his policies have rescued our economy."
Shit, I could make a whole list of the damn lies he's been spouting for three years that yesterday he managed to leave off.
This time, he told the plain unvarnished truth:
"The Republican Party doesn't give a shit about anything except power. Fuck the country, fuck the world, fuck the poor, fuck the old people and the boomers, slaughter civilians by the tens of thousands, let Osama run wild, let the Taliban take over half of Afghanistan, give the militants Fallujah as a permanent base of operations. Fuck everybody. We just want to stay in power."
That's the first time since Bush I I've ever heard Cheney tell the truth.
Sunday, August 29
Vader
Another question from a Concerned Reader:
-- Do sympathize with Vader more now, as GL said we might, or has the work (not yours, but the films, and cartoons, and comics also also) cemented your dislike for Anakin Skywalker? Because, either way, there are people that love and hate both him and his alter ego, or vice versa. I always liked Vader, he was always my favorite character. I believe he has the most depth of any SW character. --
I'm glad you asked this, because it's not only a salient question, it's something I can actually comment on.
I've NEVER disliked Anakin. Never. And I certainly don't now. Your opinion that Anakin/Vader has the most depth of any SW character is very likely shared by Mr. Lucas, since he saw fit to create the Prequel trilogy in order to recast the entire SW saga as the story of the fall and redemption of Anakin Skywalker.
On the other hand, I don't necessarily share the opinion myself, and I'll tell you why.
One of the cool things about Star Wars is that all the characters are so strong that they can carry however much depth the writers are willing (or able) to give them; I mean, jeez, look what was done with Wedge, who had, what? eight or ten lines in the whole OT?
So, yes, I see deeply into Anakin (in my opinion, anyway), but I see just as deeply into Obi-Wan, and Yoda, and Padme and Mace and even Palpatine and Dooku. It's just a question of how far a writer is willing to go -- how much brain sweat we're willing to invest -- because these characters are alive in a way that is not wholly explicable in rational terms. They are real.
We've made them real.
And I'm not talking only (or even mostly) about Mr Lucas and the Usual Suspects of writers, editors, artists and designers. I'm talking about the shared imagination of the billion-something people who carry these people around in their heads and in their hearts.
That's where the GFFA is. That's where all these people live.
And I think that is just so incredibly goddamn cool that words can't really express it.
(Aside to C-Wedge: Thanks for the heads-up; I'll have to check out his comments. So far, all I've gotten from Skywalker is a Thundering Silence while the ms works its way up the chain of command . . .)
-- Do sympathize with Vader more now, as GL said we might, or has the work (not yours, but the films, and cartoons, and comics also also) cemented your dislike for Anakin Skywalker? Because, either way, there are people that love and hate both him and his alter ego, or vice versa. I always liked Vader, he was always my favorite character. I believe he has the most depth of any SW character. --
I'm glad you asked this, because it's not only a salient question, it's something I can actually comment on.
I've NEVER disliked Anakin. Never. And I certainly don't now. Your opinion that Anakin/Vader has the most depth of any SW character is very likely shared by Mr. Lucas, since he saw fit to create the Prequel trilogy in order to recast the entire SW saga as the story of the fall and redemption of Anakin Skywalker.
On the other hand, I don't necessarily share the opinion myself, and I'll tell you why.
One of the cool things about Star Wars is that all the characters are so strong that they can carry however much depth the writers are willing (or able) to give them; I mean, jeez, look what was done with Wedge, who had, what? eight or ten lines in the whole OT?
So, yes, I see deeply into Anakin (in my opinion, anyway), but I see just as deeply into Obi-Wan, and Yoda, and Padme and Mace and even Palpatine and Dooku. It's just a question of how far a writer is willing to go -- how much brain sweat we're willing to invest -- because these characters are alive in a way that is not wholly explicable in rational terms. They are real.
We've made them real.
And I'm not talking only (or even mostly) about Mr Lucas and the Usual Suspects of writers, editors, artists and designers. I'm talking about the shared imagination of the billion-something people who carry these people around in their heads and in their hearts.
That's where the GFFA is. That's where all these people live.
And I think that is just so incredibly goddamn cool that words can't really express it.
(Aside to C-Wedge: Thanks for the heads-up; I'll have to check out his comments. So far, all I've gotten from Skywalker is a Thundering Silence while the ms works its way up the chain of command . . .)
Friday, August 27
Yoda gas
This from a concerned reader:
<< Mr. Stover, ugh I feel so stupid doing this, but there's no other official venue that will answer me.
People are all up in an uproar over this rumor concerning Yoda and something he does in Episode III: he farts while riding on chewie's back.
Seriously, do we have to deal with toilet humor again in this upcoming prequel movie???? Please say no.
And sorry for posting it as a comment to your update -- I haven't been able to find a contact email for you (which is probably a good thing for you!) And I've exhausted all other venues.>>
Once more, with feeling . . .
I can neither confirm nor deny the presence or absence of any character, plot point, device or other feature, actual or imaginary, in any Lucas-created or -licensed property that has not yet been released, previewed, and/or published.
Period.
Which includes the presence or absence of fart jokes.
Which is a fancy way of saying No Fucking Comment.
Not now, not ever.
Period.
Sorry.
Oh, okay, I'm not sorry. You should know better than to ask. You really should.
<< Mr. Stover, ugh I feel so stupid doing this, but there's no other official venue that will answer me.
People are all up in an uproar over this rumor concerning Yoda and something he does in Episode III: he farts while riding on chewie's back.
Seriously, do we have to deal with toilet humor again in this upcoming prequel movie???? Please say no.
And sorry for posting it as a comment to your update -- I haven't been able to find a contact email for you (which is probably a good thing for you!) And I've exhausted all other venues.>>
Once more, with feeling . . .
I can neither confirm nor deny the presence or absence of any character, plot point, device or other feature, actual or imaginary, in any Lucas-created or -licensed property that has not yet been released, previewed, and/or published.
Period.
Which includes the presence or absence of fart jokes.
Which is a fancy way of saying No Fucking Comment.
Not now, not ever.
Period.
Sorry.
Oh, okay, I'm not sorry. You should know better than to ask. You really should.
Tuesday, August 24
more dog shit
John Wayne's dog in BIG JAKE was named Dog.
And yeah, Malamutes are protective, and can be very dog-aggressive; fortunately for us (and for Aias) we knew that going in, and so Aias has been spending his evenings at various dog-parks since he was twelve weeks old. He's now three and a half, and is the cuddliest, most friendly teddy-bear of a 135-pound timber-wolf-loooking beast you can imagine.
Except for the time I was attacked by an enormous (85-pound) pit bull whose name was, curiously enough, Caine. Aias landed on him like a fucking meteor strike, and when the pit bull bit him instead of submitting, Aias decided he had to die. I had to tackle him and pry his jaws off the pit bull's throat, at which point the pit bull decided he'd had enough and ran like hell.
Aias favors the wolf-blood side, though he's 100% Malamute. Mals seem to come in two flavors: ones that favor the mastiff side (big square heads and dewlaps) and ones who, through a trick of atavism, look exactly like wolves. The only visible differences between Aias and a timber wolf is that Aias is a little shorter and more powerfully built, and instead of a light tail with a dark tip, Aias has a dark tail with a white tip.
And he's very independent-minded; he's not obedient, just cooperative. He's like a bright eight-year-old; he's got plenty of opinions and he expects me to listen to them -- but then he abides by what I decide. He reminds me a lot of Graegduz, from the Barra & Co. books. He's not tame, just respectful.
You get the impression I love my dog?
And yeah, Malamutes are protective, and can be very dog-aggressive; fortunately for us (and for Aias) we knew that going in, and so Aias has been spending his evenings at various dog-parks since he was twelve weeks old. He's now three and a half, and is the cuddliest, most friendly teddy-bear of a 135-pound timber-wolf-loooking beast you can imagine.
Except for the time I was attacked by an enormous (85-pound) pit bull whose name was, curiously enough, Caine. Aias landed on him like a fucking meteor strike, and when the pit bull bit him instead of submitting, Aias decided he had to die. I had to tackle him and pry his jaws off the pit bull's throat, at which point the pit bull decided he'd had enough and ran like hell.
Aias favors the wolf-blood side, though he's 100% Malamute. Mals seem to come in two flavors: ones that favor the mastiff side (big square heads and dewlaps) and ones who, through a trick of atavism, look exactly like wolves. The only visible differences between Aias and a timber wolf is that Aias is a little shorter and more powerfully built, and instead of a light tail with a dark tip, Aias has a dark tail with a white tip.
And he's very independent-minded; he's not obedient, just cooperative. He's like a bright eight-year-old; he's got plenty of opinions and he expects me to listen to them -- but then he abides by what I decide. He reminds me a lot of Graegduz, from the Barra & Co. books. He's not tame, just respectful.
You get the impression I love my dog?
Monday, August 23
My dog
Gotta write this quickly, beffore my dog notices I'm in my office.
Apparently my suffering these past few months, as I struggled to produce REVENGE OF THE SITH as fast as possible, had become so papable that my dog decided my office is bad for me. Now, whenever he realizes I'm in my chair in front of this computer, he barges in and leans on me and drools on my keyboard and does whatever is necessary to prevent me from working. If I'm anywhere else in the house, doing anything else, he'll just go lay down and go back to sleep.
Fortunately, I have a laptop, so I can go work in other rooms if necessary (so far, as near as I can tell, the dog hasn't made the connection with the computer itself, only with the envrionment).
That's all. I just think it's funny. And I love having a dog who has decided he must protect me from myself.
Apparently my suffering these past few months, as I struggled to produce REVENGE OF THE SITH as fast as possible, had become so papable that my dog decided my office is bad for me. Now, whenever he realizes I'm in my chair in front of this computer, he barges in and leans on me and drools on my keyboard and does whatever is necessary to prevent me from working. If I'm anywhere else in the house, doing anything else, he'll just go lay down and go back to sleep.
Fortunately, I have a laptop, so I can go work in other rooms if necessary (so far, as near as I can tell, the dog hasn't made the connection with the computer itself, only with the envrionment).
That's all. I just think it's funny. And I love having a dog who has decided he must protect me from myself.
Thursday, August 19
Fucked
On the Great Bring-SFF-into-the-Mainstream (or, at least, Profitability) struggle --
That's it. The war is over.
We lose.
It's a simple, blindingly obvious fact of human nature, that came out while I was at the dog park tonight, chatting with a new friend who's even older than me, an even harder-core RPG geek, and big-time SW fanboy. I was telling him that I ended up in SF because my big brother had a huge collection of sf paperbacks, plus subscriptions to WORLDS OF IF, GALAXY, and ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION. I mentioned that my mother had a huge library of detective and mystery fiction (roughly five hundred back issues of ELLERY QUEEN'S MYSTERY MAGAZINE), and a whole bunch of Rex Stout's Nero Wolfe stuff, and how I almost ended up a detective/crime writer, because I love that shit too. It's just that I have too much imagination to settle for our everyday consensual reality.
And that's when it hit me: why we'll ALWAYS be the ghetto. Because there just ain't enough imagination to go around.
The fact is, you have to be SMART to read SFF. It's that simple.
It even explains why SFF films can earn more money than Stephen King's, John Grisham's and Tom Clancy's fondest wet dreams COMBINED, and SFF will still be a tiny little corner of the bookstore, mostly ignored.
Because movies don't require imagination. They lay it right out in front of you. They pry open your mouth and force-feed you everything that a novel can only spark in your imagination.
If you have an imagination.
Which most people, frankly, don't.
That's why you see SFF on the NYTIMES Bestsellers list once in a blue moon (okay, maybe twice, if it's a Star Wars tie-in and Harry Potter), but on any given day half to two thirds of the titles on the fiction list will be detective-suspense thrillers -- usually shitty ones -- with the balance made up of Oprah Book Club-style Learning-to-get-right-with-your-personal-relationships crap.
Like I said, we're permanently fucked.
Sorry.
Game over, dude.
The worst of it is, I knew this already. So do you. All of you.
We just wish it could be different.
But it won't.
Ever.
That's it. The war is over.
We lose.
It's a simple, blindingly obvious fact of human nature, that came out while I was at the dog park tonight, chatting with a new friend who's even older than me, an even harder-core RPG geek, and big-time SW fanboy. I was telling him that I ended up in SF because my big brother had a huge collection of sf paperbacks, plus subscriptions to WORLDS OF IF, GALAXY, and ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION. I mentioned that my mother had a huge library of detective and mystery fiction (roughly five hundred back issues of ELLERY QUEEN'S MYSTERY MAGAZINE), and a whole bunch of Rex Stout's Nero Wolfe stuff, and how I almost ended up a detective/crime writer, because I love that shit too. It's just that I have too much imagination to settle for our everyday consensual reality.
And that's when it hit me: why we'll ALWAYS be the ghetto. Because there just ain't enough imagination to go around.
The fact is, you have to be SMART to read SFF. It's that simple.
It even explains why SFF films can earn more money than Stephen King's, John Grisham's and Tom Clancy's fondest wet dreams COMBINED, and SFF will still be a tiny little corner of the bookstore, mostly ignored.
Because movies don't require imagination. They lay it right out in front of you. They pry open your mouth and force-feed you everything that a novel can only spark in your imagination.
If you have an imagination.
Which most people, frankly, don't.
That's why you see SFF on the NYTIMES Bestsellers list once in a blue moon (okay, maybe twice, if it's a Star Wars tie-in and Harry Potter), but on any given day half to two thirds of the titles on the fiction list will be detective-suspense thrillers -- usually shitty ones -- with the balance made up of Oprah Book Club-style Learning-to-get-right-with-your-personal-relationships crap.
Like I said, we're permanently fucked.
Sorry.
Game over, dude.
The worst of it is, I knew this already. So do you. All of you.
We just wish it could be different.
But it won't.
Ever.
Wednesday, August 18
Rest?
I didn't mean to sound like I was complaining. I'm not.
Writing is HOW I rest. Sort of. As long as it doesn't need to be done on a whipcrack deadline.
Getting paid for what I do is a privilege, because I'd still be doing it even if I weren't getting paid.
I'd just be even crankier.
btw, the ms of REVENGE I turned in is about 115,000 words, which will make it roughly the same size book as SHATTERPOINT (within 30 pages or so), depending on design and typeface.
Writing is HOW I rest. Sort of. As long as it doesn't need to be done on a whipcrack deadline.
Getting paid for what I do is a privilege, because I'd still be doing it even if I weren't getting paid.
I'd just be even crankier.
btw, the ms of REVENGE I turned in is about 115,000 words, which will make it roughly the same size book as SHATTERPOINT (within 30 pages or so), depending on design and typeface.
Tuesday, August 17
Delivery
Earlier this afternoon, I delivered the manuscript of REVENGE OF THE SITH.
Let me state here and now, with my customary modesty, that it is a work of goddamn genius.
Or something.
At least it's done.
Until the kind folks at LFL and Del Rey editorial deliver unto me their list of revisions.
I was planning to take at least a week off. Laze around, watch TV, start reading non-SW books again, hang with my wife, play with my dog, that kind of thing . . .
But I've got this Caine-shaped itch that I just can't scratch.
Let me state here and now, with my customary modesty, that it is a work of goddamn genius.
Or something.
At least it's done.
Until the kind folks at LFL and Del Rey editorial deliver unto me their list of revisions.
I was planning to take at least a week off. Laze around, watch TV, start reading non-SW books again, hang with my wife, play with my dog, that kind of thing . . .
But I've got this Caine-shaped itch that I just can't scratch.
Monday, August 9
I just had to share
Okay, here goes (with thanks to Kathy Kozan, who forwarded this one to my wife):
How many members of the Bush administration are
required to replace the proverbial light bulb?
The Answer is SEVEN:
(1) one to deny that a light bulb needs to be
replaced;
(2) one to attack and question the patriotism of
anyone who has questions about the light bulb;
(3) one to blame the previous administration for the
need for a new light bulb;
(4) one to arrange the invasion of a country rumored
to have a secret stockpile of light bulbs;
(5) one to get together with Vice President Cheney and
figure out how to pay Halliburton Industries one
million dollars for a light bulb;
(6) one to arrange a photo-op session showing Bush
changing the light bulb while dressed in a flight
suit and wrapped in an American flag;
(7) and finally one to explain to Bush the difference
between screwing a light bulb and screwing the
country.
So, okay, it's not really funny. It's too true to be funny.
In answer to LKM, I don't really know any more about Barak Obama than anybody else; I, like most of the country, was most impressed with his keynote address at the convention. I also, again like most of the country, promptly forgot about it in the wake of a string of War On Terror announcements.
Wonder how many of those we're gonna have during the week following the Republican Convention?
Y'know, I don't WANT to be political. I don't have a position. I don't have a plan. All I have is a profound dislike for obfuscation and the politics of fear.
I hope one day to write my own work of political philosophy; I'll call it --
JEFFERSON'S OATH
"I pledge eternal enmity toward every form of tyranny over the mind of man."
Or, maybe, NIETZSCHE'S CONTENTION
"Convictions are more dangerous enemies of truth than any lies can be."
I guess my vote is pretty much always gonna lean toward whatever party comes closest to realizing that Questions are more useful than Answers.
Instead of a War on Terror, we should have a War on Ideology, and just shoot the asses off every kind of fundamentalist, religious or political. But that ends up being an ideology of its own, so I guess -- to be truly intellectually honest -- I'd have to start by shooting myself.
So it goes.
How many members of the Bush administration are
required to replace the proverbial light bulb?
The Answer is SEVEN:
(1) one to deny that a light bulb needs to be
replaced;
(2) one to attack and question the patriotism of
anyone who has questions about the light bulb;
(3) one to blame the previous administration for the
need for a new light bulb;
(4) one to arrange the invasion of a country rumored
to have a secret stockpile of light bulbs;
(5) one to get together with Vice President Cheney and
figure out how to pay Halliburton Industries one
million dollars for a light bulb;
(6) one to arrange a photo-op session showing Bush
changing the light bulb while dressed in a flight
suit and wrapped in an American flag;
(7) and finally one to explain to Bush the difference
between screwing a light bulb and screwing the
country.
So, okay, it's not really funny. It's too true to be funny.
In answer to LKM, I don't really know any more about Barak Obama than anybody else; I, like most of the country, was most impressed with his keynote address at the convention. I also, again like most of the country, promptly forgot about it in the wake of a string of War On Terror announcements.
Wonder how many of those we're gonna have during the week following the Republican Convention?
Y'know, I don't WANT to be political. I don't have a position. I don't have a plan. All I have is a profound dislike for obfuscation and the politics of fear.
I hope one day to write my own work of political philosophy; I'll call it --
JEFFERSON'S OATH
"I pledge eternal enmity toward every form of tyranny over the mind of man."
Or, maybe, NIETZSCHE'S CONTENTION
"Convictions are more dangerous enemies of truth than any lies can be."
I guess my vote is pretty much always gonna lean toward whatever party comes closest to realizing that Questions are more useful than Answers.
Instead of a War on Terror, we should have a War on Ideology, and just shoot the asses off every kind of fundamentalist, religious or political. But that ends up being an ideology of its own, so I guess -- to be truly intellectually honest -- I'd have to start by shooting myself.
So it goes.
Friday, August 6
Full disclosure
Just a note because, looking back over the history of this blog, I can see how someone might get the impression that I am a die-hard liberal Democrat.
I'm not.
I am a registered Democrat, but only because I lived for 20 years in Chicago, where (if you're not a Democrat) your vote doesn't really count. Municipal and Congressional elections in Chicago were decided by the Democratic primary; nobody cared who the Republicans ran, because they didn't have a chance.
I am not involved in politics. My business -- and my concern -- is with truth. Real truth, not the kind of half-assed hedging one gets from a Bushite State of the Union reference to uranium.
I believe that the Right and the Left, in this country, have both been blinded by ideology; I believe that they both indulge in a type of magical thinking, a superstitious belief that Things Are Simple, and that Answers Are Easy.
Caine's Law: Everything is more complicated than you think it is.
1st corollary: Anyone who tells you things are simple is trying to sell you something.
For me, that's a truth that cuts across the whole political spectrum. I lean Democratic these days because I truly believe that Kerry and Edwards are more interested in asking the right questions than pretending they have all the answers. I think there's an intellectual honesty that says: This is a problem. I think I might have an answer. Let's try it and see if it works. If it doesn't, we can try something else.
That's where the Republicans are losing my vote. They never seem to be willing to try something else. They're more interested in justifying their mistakes than in actually fixing the problems.
That would be an easy way for them to win my support: Admit they were wrong, and tell me how they're going to fix it.
"Stay the Course" is hypocritical and disastrous, whether we're talking tax cuts, energy policy, or the war in Iraq.
That's truth. As close to it as I can come, anyway.
I'm not.
I am a registered Democrat, but only because I lived for 20 years in Chicago, where (if you're not a Democrat) your vote doesn't really count. Municipal and Congressional elections in Chicago were decided by the Democratic primary; nobody cared who the Republicans ran, because they didn't have a chance.
I am not involved in politics. My business -- and my concern -- is with truth. Real truth, not the kind of half-assed hedging one gets from a Bushite State of the Union reference to uranium.
I believe that the Right and the Left, in this country, have both been blinded by ideology; I believe that they both indulge in a type of magical thinking, a superstitious belief that Things Are Simple, and that Answers Are Easy.
Caine's Law: Everything is more complicated than you think it is.
1st corollary: Anyone who tells you things are simple is trying to sell you something.
For me, that's a truth that cuts across the whole political spectrum. I lean Democratic these days because I truly believe that Kerry and Edwards are more interested in asking the right questions than pretending they have all the answers. I think there's an intellectual honesty that says: This is a problem. I think I might have an answer. Let's try it and see if it works. If it doesn't, we can try something else.
That's where the Republicans are losing my vote. They never seem to be willing to try something else. They're more interested in justifying their mistakes than in actually fixing the problems.
That would be an easy way for them to win my support: Admit they were wrong, and tell me how they're going to fix it.
"Stay the Course" is hypocritical and disastrous, whether we're talking tax cuts, energy policy, or the war in Iraq.
That's truth. As close to it as I can come, anyway.
Why
One of my friendly readers posted a question on yesterday's post; I think it's important enough that I'm reproducing my answer here.
He asked why the Bushies have been lying to us about Iraq, and what they're really after.
My response:
There are a number of possible explanations; the most generous is that they sincerely believed we would be welcomed with open arms by the Iraqi people, and we would be able to safely and easily create a stable democracy in the Muslim Middle East.
I hope that's the truth, because it means they're just stupid, as opposed to actively rotten.
There are other likely explanations; one is a personal vendetta against Saddam Hussein by Mr. Bush, seeing as how Hussein did try to have his father, George H. W. Bush, assassinated.
It's also possible that Michael Moore was right. What d'you think the odds might be that the real reason Dick Cheney has been fighting the release of records of the energy task force meetings is that they contain (hypothetical, one hopes) discussions on how to divvy up the oil fields in Iraq?
For an overview of what the American Left Wing seems to suspect, check this out:
http://www.tompaine.com/articles/these_are_their_ends.php
I do not fully endorse the arguments in this essay -- but I do think they raise the important questions, and I do think the Bush Administration owes the American people, and the world, some straight talk. We just don't seem to be getting it.
He asked why the Bushies have been lying to us about Iraq, and what they're really after.
My response:
There are a number of possible explanations; the most generous is that they sincerely believed we would be welcomed with open arms by the Iraqi people, and we would be able to safely and easily create a stable democracy in the Muslim Middle East.
I hope that's the truth, because it means they're just stupid, as opposed to actively rotten.
There are other likely explanations; one is a personal vendetta against Saddam Hussein by Mr. Bush, seeing as how Hussein did try to have his father, George H. W. Bush, assassinated.
It's also possible that Michael Moore was right. What d'you think the odds might be that the real reason Dick Cheney has been fighting the release of records of the energy task force meetings is that they contain (hypothetical, one hopes) discussions on how to divvy up the oil fields in Iraq?
For an overview of what the American Left Wing seems to suspect, check this out:
http://www.tompaine.com/articles/these_are_their_ends.php
I do not fully endorse the arguments in this essay -- but I do think they raise the important questions, and I do think the Bush Administration owes the American people, and the world, some straight talk. We just don't seem to be getting it.
Thursday, August 5
Tuesday, August 3
For the fanbeings
This is your Star Wars update.
Yesterday, reading through meal breaks and such, I finished Sean Stewart's DARK RENDEZVOUS.
It's good. Really really good.
Anybody who likes my SW stuff is gonna love this. Most of the people who DON'T like my SW stuff are gonna love it, too.
I should probably have this guy killed.
Ah, nah. With that last name he's probably a Scotsman. Shooting him will just make him angry. He also seems to know his way around unarmed combat . . .
Here's the thing: Shelly Shapiro, who (as most of you know) is the Del Rey Star Wars Guru, tells me that SW authors get a cross-over bump to their own books' sales that's between 1% and 2%. Yeah, that's right: about the same as direct mail.
This is what I think: we can do better, and I'm gonna do my part. I, for one, am about to order at least three Sean Stewart novels.
That's all. I have to go kill some Jedi now.
Yesterday, reading through meal breaks and such, I finished Sean Stewart's DARK RENDEZVOUS.
It's good. Really really good.
Anybody who likes my SW stuff is gonna love this. Most of the people who DON'T like my SW stuff are gonna love it, too.
I should probably have this guy killed.
Ah, nah. With that last name he's probably a Scotsman. Shooting him will just make him angry. He also seems to know his way around unarmed combat . . .
Here's the thing: Shelly Shapiro, who (as most of you know) is the Del Rey Star Wars Guru, tells me that SW authors get a cross-over bump to their own books' sales that's between 1% and 2%. Yeah, that's right: about the same as direct mail.
This is what I think: we can do better, and I'm gonna do my part. I, for one, am about to order at least three Sean Stewart novels.
That's all. I have to go kill some Jedi now.
Monday, August 2
This Just In
For anyone who was interested in our discussion on government:
http://www.nytimes.com/2004/08/02/opinion/02farah.html
I apologize for the lack of a direct link (there seems to be a Gecko issue with Blogger.com, but what the hell). The essay's worth checking out, and worth forwarding to every cretin who thinks the best government is no government.
http://www.nytimes.com/2004/08/02/opinion/02farah.html
I apologize for the lack of a direct link (there seems to be a Gecko issue with Blogger.com, but what the hell). The essay's worth checking out, and worth forwarding to every cretin who thinks the best government is no government.
Thursday, July 29
REVENGE fever
I am so close to the end that I'm starting to choke.
I've blown the Aug 1 delivery date, but I should turn it in within two weeks, if my body holds out. My vision blurs, my head pounds, my hands shake --
My perception is clouded by the darkness in the Force.
You want dark? You're gonna get it.
I've blown the Aug 1 delivery date, but I should turn it in within two weeks, if my body holds out. My vision blurs, my head pounds, my hands shake --
My perception is clouded by the darkness in the Force.
You want dark? You're gonna get it.
Sunday, July 25
The Ep III Moment
I wrote the Moment today.
I'm reporting this because I'm pretty goddamn proud of myself; I've been working on this Moment since last Thursday. It started out to be roughly twelve pages (around 3,600 words) spread over three scenes, but it just wasn't working.
It is now a single scene of under 200 words, and I am very, very happy with it.
That's all.
Sometimes the real trick to this writing shit lies in what you DON'T say . . .
I'm reporting this because I'm pretty goddamn proud of myself; I've been working on this Moment since last Thursday. It started out to be roughly twelve pages (around 3,600 words) spread over three scenes, but it just wasn't working.
It is now a single scene of under 200 words, and I am very, very happy with it.
That's all.
Sometimes the real trick to this writing shit lies in what you DON'T say . . .
Thursday, July 22
Now, everybody dies. Everybody. Ep IV is all clones. Really. Oh, okay, I'm a goddamn liar. Whatever.
I'm over the hump on Ep III.
Yesterday, I officially passed the point where it was still possible that this book would suck.
Yes, there was a chance it would suck (up till yesterday, anyway); there's always a chance.
There was a sequence that I just didn't know how I was going to handle -- so visual and kinetic that I wasn't sure I could pull it off on the page; if I could have cut it out, I would have (though of course that was never a real option).
But guess what? I wrapped that sequence yesterday, and it came out better than I had dreamed.
This book no longer contains the possiblity of suckitude.
There's a lesson for all you little writers out there: don't quit on something just because you think you can't pull it off. You don't KNOW what you can pull off.
No masturbation jokes, either.
Yesterday, I officially passed the point where it was still possible that this book would suck.
Yes, there was a chance it would suck (up till yesterday, anyway); there's always a chance.
There was a sequence that I just didn't know how I was going to handle -- so visual and kinetic that I wasn't sure I could pull it off on the page; if I could have cut it out, I would have (though of course that was never a real option).
But guess what? I wrapped that sequence yesterday, and it came out better than I had dreamed.
This book no longer contains the possiblity of suckitude.
There's a lesson for all you little writers out there: don't quit on something just because you think you can't pull it off. You don't KNOW what you can pull off.
No masturbation jokes, either.
Thursday, July 15
Okay, okay, here's your Ep III fix
Somebody asked, a few days ago, how I'm liking working on Ep III, and what I thought of the first two PT movies, and how I think the Ep III film will be. Since I know that a great deal of traffic around here is generated by people looking for Ep III tidbits, I'll undertake to answer those questions.
First:
Writing this adaptation is the hardest work I've ever done. It's also extremely interesting: an entirely new challenge for me as a writer.
One of my talents (that is, one of the things I seem to just be good at, as opposed to the skills I've had to struggle to develop) has always been my control of incident. If what's happening in the book isn't working, I'm really goddamn good at coming up with something else that might (or should) happen that will lead the story in the direction it needs to go.
In Ep III, of course, I can't do any of that. Everything that happens in the script has to happen in the novel. I don't have the liberty to alter the incidents, or the chain of causality that carries the story. Instead, what I have to do is look at each individual scene as a simple historical fact -- it's almost like writing a history, in fact, instead of a novel. What I have to do is take What Really Happened (GL's script) and retell that exact story in a way that makes for an entertaining (and, one hopes, affecting) novel.
It ain't easy. A script is a script, and a novel is a novel; they are very different animals, and for good reason. So if a scene isn't working for me, I have to find a way -- a change in point of view, or an altered tone, or a shift in esthetic distance -- that MAKES it work. Because I am entirely incapable of writing anything I'm not excited about. My brain just won't do it.
So, to answer the unspoken question: yeah, I think the book is going to be really, really good. I am pulling out all the stops on this one, because I think it'll be a great film, and it's the culmination of the most important pop-cultural phenomenon of the past hundred years. It's the last of the movies, and I want my novel version of it to not only do justice to the film itself, but to the whole universe that GL (and so many collaborators) has given us.
Second:
I didn't like the first two Pequel movies when I first saw them. I suppose, like many other fans, I was really hoping for something that would be the Original Trilogy Bigger, Faster, and Louder.
But --
After reading the script for Ep III, I went back and watched I and II again, and they were MUCH more enjoyable to me when I looked at them as parts of an organic whole. There is a real emotional arc to the whole story, and it works for me. I think it's gonna work for nearly all of you, too.
This is what I truly believe: when Ep III comes out, there will be a radical re-evaluation of the first two films, not unlike what I went through.
I really think it's gonna be that good.
Third:
I recently received the latest disk of screen shots and concept art.
I can't speak to the pacing, or the acting, or the editing, since I haven't seen the actual footage.
What I can tell you is that it's going to be a goddamn masterpiece of visual imagination.
There. That's your Ep III fix for the week. Now I have to go get back to work on it.
First:
Writing this adaptation is the hardest work I've ever done. It's also extremely interesting: an entirely new challenge for me as a writer.
One of my talents (that is, one of the things I seem to just be good at, as opposed to the skills I've had to struggle to develop) has always been my control of incident. If what's happening in the book isn't working, I'm really goddamn good at coming up with something else that might (or should) happen that will lead the story in the direction it needs to go.
In Ep III, of course, I can't do any of that. Everything that happens in the script has to happen in the novel. I don't have the liberty to alter the incidents, or the chain of causality that carries the story. Instead, what I have to do is look at each individual scene as a simple historical fact -- it's almost like writing a history, in fact, instead of a novel. What I have to do is take What Really Happened (GL's script) and retell that exact story in a way that makes for an entertaining (and, one hopes, affecting) novel.
It ain't easy. A script is a script, and a novel is a novel; they are very different animals, and for good reason. So if a scene isn't working for me, I have to find a way -- a change in point of view, or an altered tone, or a shift in esthetic distance -- that MAKES it work. Because I am entirely incapable of writing anything I'm not excited about. My brain just won't do it.
So, to answer the unspoken question: yeah, I think the book is going to be really, really good. I am pulling out all the stops on this one, because I think it'll be a great film, and it's the culmination of the most important pop-cultural phenomenon of the past hundred years. It's the last of the movies, and I want my novel version of it to not only do justice to the film itself, but to the whole universe that GL (and so many collaborators) has given us.
Second:
I didn't like the first two Pequel movies when I first saw them. I suppose, like many other fans, I was really hoping for something that would be the Original Trilogy Bigger, Faster, and Louder.
But --
After reading the script for Ep III, I went back and watched I and II again, and they were MUCH more enjoyable to me when I looked at them as parts of an organic whole. There is a real emotional arc to the whole story, and it works for me. I think it's gonna work for nearly all of you, too.
This is what I truly believe: when Ep III comes out, there will be a radical re-evaluation of the first two films, not unlike what I went through.
I really think it's gonna be that good.
Third:
I recently received the latest disk of screen shots and concept art.
I can't speak to the pacing, or the acting, or the editing, since I haven't seen the actual footage.
What I can tell you is that it's going to be a goddamn masterpiece of visual imagination.
There. That's your Ep III fix for the week. Now I have to go get back to work on it.
Thursday, July 8
Promises, promises . . .
I will post something on Ep III soon. Really. I promise. Meanwhile, however, I feel compelled to reply to a rant from one of the kind folks who occasionally post comments around here.
This is the rant:
--I just object to being robbed and threatened by people who claim to represent me, and who claim to be doing it for my own good. Government is a racket, and government officials are gangsters with badges. The fact that most of the people around me get offended when I point that out I'm losing at least a quarter of my check a week for roads that don't work, a Ponzi scheme retirement plan that'll be bankrupt before I'm old enought to qualify for it, laws that don't make sense, armies that invade every country on the globe and piss off their inhabitants at me, and a government that no longer even pretends to obey its own laws just aggravates me that much more.
# posted by Joe Crow : 2:42:04 AM --
While Joe is an intelligent and well-spoken fellow, I must intercede here to make a claim that this paragraph represents a particularly pernicious species of bullshit. JC is the last guy I'd expect to spout Reaganista agitprop, and I think this needs a response.
First, taxes are not robbery. Taxation is the foundation of civil society; you can't have the second without the first. Somebody has to pay for the fire department's trucks; somebody has to pay for the cops, and the roads, and the courts of law that are the thin black line between us and the law of vendetta. If the roads where Joe lives don't work, maybe Joe should try petitioning his local government to hire better contractors. The roads where I live work just damn fine. Government is a racket? If so, it is a racket full of people who devote their lives to making sure that we can all live together in something resembling peace; I believe that Joe should focus less on what government "makes" him do, and more on the responsiblities incumbent upon a citizen of a civilized nation. One of those responsiblities is, for example, paying taxes. The threat of sanctions -- what Joe seems to see as extortion -- upon those who refuse to pay such taxes, is nothing more than civil society's attempt (flawed though it may be) at fairness: to prevent anti-social slackers from getting a free ride on the backs of responsible citizens. Joe is not LOSING anything; if he were to stop and calculate the value of the public services financed by that quarter of his paycheck, he will discover (unless he is very, very rich indeed, and paying considerably more in taxes than I make in a year) that he is getting back vastly more than his money's worth.
Second, Social Security is in no danger of going broke, if we can only stop our fucking Congress from sticking its fingers into the pot. This whole "Ponzi scheme" line of horseshit was invented by the Reaganistas as an excuse to privatize Social Security to prop up the NYSE. As long as the Social Security funds are left where they are, and not used as a bottomless purse to fund, oh, say, the occupation of Iraq, there is no danger it will collapse. Even with our current deficits, Social Security is fully funded until 2040. I'd say 35 years is enough time to fix any further problems that might arise. And Social Security is NOT a retirement scheme. Retirement funds are the individual responsibility of all Americans. Social Security is a safety net, intended to ensure that we don't have people in the United States (by reason of age or physical disablity) starving to death. If Joe thinks we'd be better off, as a nation, letting those folks starve, well, he's entitled to that opinion. I, however, disagree.
The hyperbole about invading every country on the globe requires no reply; the final feature of my response to this has to do with the "government that no longer pretends to obey its own laws" business. I'll avoid the rhetorical cheap shot of pointing out that he's already decided those laws don't make sense, and thus hardly has any cause to complain if they are not obeyed (well, okay, I won't avoid it altogether); mostly, I want to emphasize the logical fallacy in referring to "the government" as a whole, as if it were some unified entity, answering to a single will. The simple fact is that in America, at least, one should properly refer to "the governments," in the plural. As we have seen -- with the Supreme Court's recent smackdown of the Bushite enemy-combatants-are-whoever-we-say-they-are horseshit, not to mention the 9/11 commission's smacking around of Rumsfeld and Condoleeza Rice, and the upcoming Senate Intelligence Committee report -- our governments often work at cross-purposes, and the intersection of their often-messy vectors of interest sometimes produces something resembling justice. To pretend that "it's all one thing" is merely agitprop, like I said before, largely invented by the Reaganistas: a bogey on whom to blame all of society's ills.
Not to say all this works perfectly -- i.e. that Senate Intelligence Committee report I mentioned before will focus solely on the failures of the CIA in analyzing pre-war intel on Iraq; the Dems and the GOPs have agreed to leave fallow their findings on all the damn lies of the Bush Administration until after the election.
Which is a giant motherfucking disservice to democracy.
However, we all have a recourse on this: get the hell out and vote. Because once we throw those shitsacks out of office, it won't MATTER how much they lied -- except, perhaps, someday (okay, I'm fantasizing now -- but that's what I do for a living. Sue me.) at their criminal trials . . .
That's MY rant for the day.
This is the rant:
--I just object to being robbed and threatened by people who claim to represent me, and who claim to be doing it for my own good. Government is a racket, and government officials are gangsters with badges. The fact that most of the people around me get offended when I point that out I'm losing at least a quarter of my check a week for roads that don't work, a Ponzi scheme retirement plan that'll be bankrupt before I'm old enought to qualify for it, laws that don't make sense, armies that invade every country on the globe and piss off their inhabitants at me, and a government that no longer even pretends to obey its own laws just aggravates me that much more.
# posted by Joe Crow : 2:42:04 AM --
While Joe is an intelligent and well-spoken fellow, I must intercede here to make a claim that this paragraph represents a particularly pernicious species of bullshit. JC is the last guy I'd expect to spout Reaganista agitprop, and I think this needs a response.
First, taxes are not robbery. Taxation is the foundation of civil society; you can't have the second without the first. Somebody has to pay for the fire department's trucks; somebody has to pay for the cops, and the roads, and the courts of law that are the thin black line between us and the law of vendetta. If the roads where Joe lives don't work, maybe Joe should try petitioning his local government to hire better contractors. The roads where I live work just damn fine. Government is a racket? If so, it is a racket full of people who devote their lives to making sure that we can all live together in something resembling peace; I believe that Joe should focus less on what government "makes" him do, and more on the responsiblities incumbent upon a citizen of a civilized nation. One of those responsiblities is, for example, paying taxes. The threat of sanctions -- what Joe seems to see as extortion -- upon those who refuse to pay such taxes, is nothing more than civil society's attempt (flawed though it may be) at fairness: to prevent anti-social slackers from getting a free ride on the backs of responsible citizens. Joe is not LOSING anything; if he were to stop and calculate the value of the public services financed by that quarter of his paycheck, he will discover (unless he is very, very rich indeed, and paying considerably more in taxes than I make in a year) that he is getting back vastly more than his money's worth.
Second, Social Security is in no danger of going broke, if we can only stop our fucking Congress from sticking its fingers into the pot. This whole "Ponzi scheme" line of horseshit was invented by the Reaganistas as an excuse to privatize Social Security to prop up the NYSE. As long as the Social Security funds are left where they are, and not used as a bottomless purse to fund, oh, say, the occupation of Iraq, there is no danger it will collapse. Even with our current deficits, Social Security is fully funded until 2040. I'd say 35 years is enough time to fix any further problems that might arise. And Social Security is NOT a retirement scheme. Retirement funds are the individual responsibility of all Americans. Social Security is a safety net, intended to ensure that we don't have people in the United States (by reason of age or physical disablity) starving to death. If Joe thinks we'd be better off, as a nation, letting those folks starve, well, he's entitled to that opinion. I, however, disagree.
The hyperbole about invading every country on the globe requires no reply; the final feature of my response to this has to do with the "government that no longer pretends to obey its own laws" business. I'll avoid the rhetorical cheap shot of pointing out that he's already decided those laws don't make sense, and thus hardly has any cause to complain if they are not obeyed (well, okay, I won't avoid it altogether); mostly, I want to emphasize the logical fallacy in referring to "the government" as a whole, as if it were some unified entity, answering to a single will. The simple fact is that in America, at least, one should properly refer to "the governments," in the plural. As we have seen -- with the Supreme Court's recent smackdown of the Bushite enemy-combatants-are-whoever-we-say-they-are horseshit, not to mention the 9/11 commission's smacking around of Rumsfeld and Condoleeza Rice, and the upcoming Senate Intelligence Committee report -- our governments often work at cross-purposes, and the intersection of their often-messy vectors of interest sometimes produces something resembling justice. To pretend that "it's all one thing" is merely agitprop, like I said before, largely invented by the Reaganistas: a bogey on whom to blame all of society's ills.
Not to say all this works perfectly -- i.e. that Senate Intelligence Committee report I mentioned before will focus solely on the failures of the CIA in analyzing pre-war intel on Iraq; the Dems and the GOPs have agreed to leave fallow their findings on all the damn lies of the Bush Administration until after the election.
Which is a giant motherfucking disservice to democracy.
However, we all have a recourse on this: get the hell out and vote. Because once we throw those shitsacks out of office, it won't MATTER how much they lied -- except, perhaps, someday (okay, I'm fantasizing now -- but that's what I do for a living. Sue me.) at their criminal trials . . .
That's MY rant for the day.
Sunday, July 4
Ehrenreich
http://www.nytimes.com/2004/07/04/opinion/04EHRE.html
Read it. Now.
Later on, I'll have something to say about Star Wars, too. Right now, I have to go write some. Then I'll be back to talk about it.
Read it. Now.
Later on, I'll have something to say about Star Wars, too. Right now, I have to go write some. Then I'll be back to talk about it.
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