Kyle Michel Sullivan's Blog: https://www.myirishnovel.com/, page 229
April 5, 2015
I hate logic...
I think it was Hitchcock who once said that logic was for small-minded people, but I can't find that quote. However...he never had to deal with a story that takes you places that look great until you ask yourself one simple question...and then the whole thing falls apart. Well, not the whole thing; just a subplot that I really liked but makes no sense, now that I'm thinking about it. Dammit.
That's why thinking is a dangerous pastime; it ruins the worlds you build in your mind. My best worlds come from turmoil and anger and chaos, because those moments clear away the crap I'm focused on and let me find clarity. Still, I've had moments torn away from me in OT and CK because logic must prevail, and now it's happened again. I followed a character to a point and thought, "This is great." Then a light popped on and I saw it was amazingly stupid.
I hate that in other work. Like Mystic River -- the opening bit where a boy is kidnapped and sexually assaulted by a couple of priests; I didn't believe how it happened. Two men drive up in a car, put the kid in the back seat and drive away with him? In full view of witnesses? And then when he escaped with his tee-shirt still a pristine white, after days of abuse? It was all downhill from there, for me.
I can get weird about some of the dumbest things -- like changing a character's nickname because at a critical juncture in the story, it would sound dumb. Like Meryl Streep's pronunciation of Stingo in Sophie's Choice. Sting-go. It's comical at moments not meant to be funny. Of course, I didn't like that movie, either, but for entirely different reasons.
So today I slammed into a wall and used my ironing to excuse me watching the opening of the reboot of Battlestar Galactica. It was made 12 years ago for SyFy and still holds up so damn well, even against my glowing memory of it. This was a hard-hitting series, and is still relevant in too damn many ways. That the Emmys ignored it was a travesty.
Of course, it didn't hurt that Jamie Bamber did that famous towel scene, a few episodes in...
That's why thinking is a dangerous pastime; it ruins the worlds you build in your mind. My best worlds come from turmoil and anger and chaos, because those moments clear away the crap I'm focused on and let me find clarity. Still, I've had moments torn away from me in OT and CK because logic must prevail, and now it's happened again. I followed a character to a point and thought, "This is great." Then a light popped on and I saw it was amazingly stupid.
I hate that in other work. Like Mystic River -- the opening bit where a boy is kidnapped and sexually assaulted by a couple of priests; I didn't believe how it happened. Two men drive up in a car, put the kid in the back seat and drive away with him? In full view of witnesses? And then when he escaped with his tee-shirt still a pristine white, after days of abuse? It was all downhill from there, for me.
I can get weird about some of the dumbest things -- like changing a character's nickname because at a critical juncture in the story, it would sound dumb. Like Meryl Streep's pronunciation of Stingo in Sophie's Choice. Sting-go. It's comical at moments not meant to be funny. Of course, I didn't like that movie, either, but for entirely different reasons.
So today I slammed into a wall and used my ironing to excuse me watching the opening of the reboot of Battlestar Galactica. It was made 12 years ago for SyFy and still holds up so damn well, even against my glowing memory of it. This was a hard-hitting series, and is still relevant in too damn many ways. That the Emmys ignored it was a travesty.Of course, it didn't hurt that Jamie Bamber did that famous towel scene, a few episodes in...
April 4, 2015
Mighty Minsky is no Mouse...
I've been watching some of Alex Minsky's snippets and they're fun. Here's his latest.
Alex was hit by an IED in Afghanistan and lost his right leg, below the knee. The tattoos were started to cover the scars from burns and such. I follow him on facebook and use these videos to take me out of myself and back into the understanding that my crap is middling compared to many others'.
His story also pisses me off even more at the GOP, who are so eager to send more men like him into battle (and women) just so they can keep Obama for any sort of success. Evil cowardly people elected by evil cowardly people.
But Alex...he's my hero, and he's become Zeke, to me, in Carli's Kills.
Alex was hit by an IED in Afghanistan and lost his right leg, below the knee. The tattoos were started to cover the scars from burns and such. I follow him on facebook and use these videos to take me out of myself and back into the understanding that my crap is middling compared to many others'.
His story also pisses me off even more at the GOP, who are so eager to send more men like him into battle (and women) just so they can keep Obama for any sort of success. Evil cowardly people elected by evil cowardly people.
But Alex...he's my hero, and he's become Zeke, to me, in Carli's Kills.
April 3, 2015
Trigger pulled...
I'm a mess, right now. As all writers are, once in a while. I guess. And it's all due to a phone call from one of my cousins. It's not the subject of the call, so much -- that my aunt was in the hospital for cancer surgery; it's that she was already coming home and everything looked good. In fact, she's probably home now.
Nice to know, right? But it jolted me back to when I lost that side of the family. In September 1987. I'd made plans to visit my sister in San Diego and mentioned them to that same aunt, and she talked me into changing my trip to come up to see her for a few days then go on to California. It sounded important, so I did. This was back when you could change your ticket without hundreds of dollars in penalties.
Well...turned out that trip was an ambush. I was still in the closet, back then, but my cousins had been told I was gay by someone we all knew, and they wanted to know if I had AIDS. I spent an extra $300 in plane fare so they could look in my eyes as I told them I was HIV neg. Some of them didn't believe me, anyway, and the whole atmosphere was so hideous, I came close to walking to the airport so I could leave. Which would've taken a while; it was twenty miles away.
I'd always thought of myself as being part of their family. I found out that I never was, really. And after I left, they stopped contacting me unless someone died. Like when the one cousin who was still cool about me killed herself. I was in Houston, and they let me know the day before her funeral. I was told that it wasn't necessary for me to come. Same message when my uncle died.
I didn't see them, again, until after my mother was buried. I visited my aunt to give her some photos and things. In truth, the only one I wanted to see was her, but she invited the whole family and their now-grown kids. They acted like nothing had ever happened and we ate homemade pizza and I left as soon as I could because I was getting sick from holding in my hurt and anger. I realized that in some things, I have the memory of an elephant, especially as regards being injured.
So once again I'm told about something important after the fact. Don't come. Not really necessary. And then, to cap it off, he said goodbye with the the nice, casual, stand-offish phrase of, "my friend." Not Cuz, like he used to call me. Or Ky. Just something polite. All but telling me he felt he had to let me know my aunt was ill, but now his duty was done.
My aunt is 85 years old. When she's gone, that side of the family will be dead to me. And I will not be sorry.
What a funny tragedy this would make.
Nice to know, right? But it jolted me back to when I lost that side of the family. In September 1987. I'd made plans to visit my sister in San Diego and mentioned them to that same aunt, and she talked me into changing my trip to come up to see her for a few days then go on to California. It sounded important, so I did. This was back when you could change your ticket without hundreds of dollars in penalties.
Well...turned out that trip was an ambush. I was still in the closet, back then, but my cousins had been told I was gay by someone we all knew, and they wanted to know if I had AIDS. I spent an extra $300 in plane fare so they could look in my eyes as I told them I was HIV neg. Some of them didn't believe me, anyway, and the whole atmosphere was so hideous, I came close to walking to the airport so I could leave. Which would've taken a while; it was twenty miles away.
I'd always thought of myself as being part of their family. I found out that I never was, really. And after I left, they stopped contacting me unless someone died. Like when the one cousin who was still cool about me killed herself. I was in Houston, and they let me know the day before her funeral. I was told that it wasn't necessary for me to come. Same message when my uncle died.
I didn't see them, again, until after my mother was buried. I visited my aunt to give her some photos and things. In truth, the only one I wanted to see was her, but she invited the whole family and their now-grown kids. They acted like nothing had ever happened and we ate homemade pizza and I left as soon as I could because I was getting sick from holding in my hurt and anger. I realized that in some things, I have the memory of an elephant, especially as regards being injured.
So once again I'm told about something important after the fact. Don't come. Not really necessary. And then, to cap it off, he said goodbye with the the nice, casual, stand-offish phrase of, "my friend." Not Cuz, like he used to call me. Or Ky. Just something polite. All but telling me he felt he had to let me know my aunt was ill, but now his duty was done.
My aunt is 85 years old. When she's gone, that side of the family will be dead to me. And I will not be sorry.
What a funny tragedy this would make.
Stealing Paul Krugman's Blog Post
This is one of today's posts, and he's getting right at the heart of what today's GOP is all about -- behaving like a bunch of bullies out to cause as much destruction as possible because it's fun.
John Galt Hates Ben Bernanke
Ah: I see that there was a Twitter exchange among Brad DeLong, James Pethokoukis, and others over why Republicans don’t acknowledge that Ben Bernanke helped the economy, and claim credit. Pethokoukis — who presumably gets to talk to quite a few Republicans from his perch at AEI — offers a fairly amazing explanation:
B/c many view BB as enabling Obama’s spending and artificially propping up debt-heavy economy in need of Mellon-esque liquidation
Yep: that dastardly Bernanke was preventing us from having a financial crisis, curse him.
Actually, there’s a lot of evidence that this was an important part of the story. As I pointed out a couple of months ago, Paul Ryan and John Taylor went all-out conspiracy theory on the Bernanke Fed, claiming that its efforts were not about trying to fulfill its mandate, but rather that
This looks an awful lot like an attempt to bail out fiscal policy, and such attempts call the Fed’s independence into question.
Basically, leading Republicans didn’t just expect a disaster, they wanted one — and they were furious at Bernanke for, as they saw it, heading off the crisis they hoped to see. It’s a pretty awesome position to take. But it makes a lot of sense when you consider where these people were coming from.
After all, what is Atlas Shrugged really about? Leave aside the endless speeches and bad sex scenes. What you’re left with is the tale of how a group of plutocrats overthrow a democratically elected government with a campaign of economic sabotage.
Look, I know it sounds harsh to say that Republicans opposed QE in large part out of fear that it would work, and deliver a success to a president they hated. I mean, the next thing you know I’ll be accusing them of crazy things they would never do, like deliberately trying to undermine delicate nuclear negotiations. Oh, wait.
John Galt Hates Ben Bernanke
Ah: I see that there was a Twitter exchange among Brad DeLong, James Pethokoukis, and others over why Republicans don’t acknowledge that Ben Bernanke helped the economy, and claim credit. Pethokoukis — who presumably gets to talk to quite a few Republicans from his perch at AEI — offers a fairly amazing explanation:
B/c many view BB as enabling Obama’s spending and artificially propping up debt-heavy economy in need of Mellon-esque liquidation
Yep: that dastardly Bernanke was preventing us from having a financial crisis, curse him.
Actually, there’s a lot of evidence that this was an important part of the story. As I pointed out a couple of months ago, Paul Ryan and John Taylor went all-out conspiracy theory on the Bernanke Fed, claiming that its efforts were not about trying to fulfill its mandate, but rather that
This looks an awful lot like an attempt to bail out fiscal policy, and such attempts call the Fed’s independence into question.
Basically, leading Republicans didn’t just expect a disaster, they wanted one — and they were furious at Bernanke for, as they saw it, heading off the crisis they hoped to see. It’s a pretty awesome position to take. But it makes a lot of sense when you consider where these people were coming from.
After all, what is Atlas Shrugged really about? Leave aside the endless speeches and bad sex scenes. What you’re left with is the tale of how a group of plutocrats overthrow a democratically elected government with a campaign of economic sabotage.
Look, I know it sounds harsh to say that Republicans opposed QE in large part out of fear that it would work, and deliver a success to a president they hated. I mean, the next thing you know I’ll be accusing them of crazy things they would never do, like deliberately trying to undermine delicate nuclear negotiations. Oh, wait.
April 1, 2015
There are no more Christians in America...
A lot of people still claim they are, but their actions are the exact opposite of the teachings of Christ so their claims are lies. Period.
To me, the whole idea of being a Christian is boiled down to its essence in three chapters of Matthew -- 5-7. The Sermon on the Mount. That's where Jesus tells people not to judge, to love others as much as they do themselves. To be tolerant and understanding, and to live their lives right, not to loudly proclaim how good and Godly they are.
But since the dawn of the church, those words have only been used for others to live up to, not the self-professed christianists. They have used the bible to excuse slavery, slaughter, genocide, torture, hate, selfishness, condescension, injustice and intolerance in the extreme. Not to mention silence in the face of all this evil, because it's a tenet of law that silence equals consent. And none of this is acceptable to Christ.
I'm not saying they're the only ones who do this. Muslims have pulled the same crap since Mohammed, and if you read the Old Testament, you can see where Jews have done it, too. All in the name of their god, be he Allah or Jahweh. Hindus and Buddhists and even Sikhs have done it. But it's the christianists in America who are the focus of my hatred, right now, because they're the ones turning our country into a theocracy, just like Iran is, Israel is becoming, and just like what ISIS wants to do. They're the ones bringing hell to my neighborhood.
Maybe they should be called Paulists, because Paul's the one who turned Christianity into something spiteful and vile.
To me, the whole idea of being a Christian is boiled down to its essence in three chapters of Matthew -- 5-7. The Sermon on the Mount. That's where Jesus tells people not to judge, to love others as much as they do themselves. To be tolerant and understanding, and to live their lives right, not to loudly proclaim how good and Godly they are.
But since the dawn of the church, those words have only been used for others to live up to, not the self-professed christianists. They have used the bible to excuse slavery, slaughter, genocide, torture, hate, selfishness, condescension, injustice and intolerance in the extreme. Not to mention silence in the face of all this evil, because it's a tenet of law that silence equals consent. And none of this is acceptable to Christ.
I'm not saying they're the only ones who do this. Muslims have pulled the same crap since Mohammed, and if you read the Old Testament, you can see where Jews have done it, too. All in the name of their god, be he Allah or Jahweh. Hindus and Buddhists and even Sikhs have done it. But it's the christianists in America who are the focus of my hatred, right now, because they're the ones turning our country into a theocracy, just like Iran is, Israel is becoming, and just like what ISIS wants to do. They're the ones bringing hell to my neighborhood.
Maybe they should be called Paulists, because Paul's the one who turned Christianity into something spiteful and vile.
March 31, 2015
Oh, boy...
I got into a confrontation scene that shot all over the place, to where I'm so confused by it I have no idea what I set out to do. So I put it aside and will look at it, tomorrow. Nothing unusual about that, unfortunately; I plow into the moment and suddenly everybody's pops in with ideas that don't necessarily match up, and I have to take a breather to regain my bearings.
I'm having fun watching the meltdown in Indiana. Mike Spence is twisting himself into a pretzel trying to explain how a bill clearly meant to help Christians discriminate against anyone they damn well want to is not a bill meant to let Christians discriminate against anyone they damn well want to. He's a stupid son-of-a-bitch, but he's also stubborn; not a good combination...because stupid people are almost always stubborn about what they're being stupid about.
It's true religious freedom laws have been passed in 19 other states, and one is being passed in Arkansas even as I write, but what I think's happening here is the old idea about the straw that broke the camel's back. Those other laws were protested, but they were in states where people almost expected this crap to happen. Indiana was supposedly forward thinking. Yet the second the GOP had control they snuck through a bill to kick anyone not a heterosexual WASP male in the teeth.
This was one state too many, and now the full-scale backlash has begun. We'll see how far it goes; I'm still too cynical to think much will change, and I have a good idea once the uproar dies down, all these companies who support equal rights will go back to business as usual with the state. But at least it's an enjoyable spectacle as it happens. And proves, yet again, that the GOP is completely, totally, and absolutely without moral fiber or capability. To paraphrase Paul Krugman, "It's like they enjoy causing pain and suffering to those who are marginalized." That is diseased.
So, my dear despicable Governor Spence, this picture's for you. And since you'd probably need a translation as to what it is I mean, this is the PG-13 version of, "Suck my dick, asshole."
May you and your ilk rot in hell.
I'm having fun watching the meltdown in Indiana. Mike Spence is twisting himself into a pretzel trying to explain how a bill clearly meant to help Christians discriminate against anyone they damn well want to is not a bill meant to let Christians discriminate against anyone they damn well want to. He's a stupid son-of-a-bitch, but he's also stubborn; not a good combination...because stupid people are almost always stubborn about what they're being stupid about.
It's true religious freedom laws have been passed in 19 other states, and one is being passed in Arkansas even as I write, but what I think's happening here is the old idea about the straw that broke the camel's back. Those other laws were protested, but they were in states where people almost expected this crap to happen. Indiana was supposedly forward thinking. Yet the second the GOP had control they snuck through a bill to kick anyone not a heterosexual WASP male in the teeth.
This was one state too many, and now the full-scale backlash has begun. We'll see how far it goes; I'm still too cynical to think much will change, and I have a good idea once the uproar dies down, all these companies who support equal rights will go back to business as usual with the state. But at least it's an enjoyable spectacle as it happens. And proves, yet again, that the GOP is completely, totally, and absolutely without moral fiber or capability. To paraphrase Paul Krugman, "It's like they enjoy causing pain and suffering to those who are marginalized." That is diseased.
So, my dear despicable Governor Spence, this picture's for you. And since you'd probably need a translation as to what it is I mean, this is the PG-13 version of, "Suck my dick, asshole."May you and your ilk rot in hell.
March 30, 2015
That scene...
Nothing more meed be said...
The Big Sleep (1946)
Do NOT watch the 1945 or 1978 versions; the 1946 movie is the definitive telling of Raymond Chandler's crazy-quilt book. I read it, years ago, and it was a lot racier than the move...except for one scene...in a bar...between Bogie and Bacall...as they discuss horse-racing.
Bogart at his peak. Bacall at her most sexy. Doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense, but it works and that's what counts.
Bogart at his peak. Bacall at her most sexy. Doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense, but it works and that's what counts.
March 29, 2015
I drink too much...
Tea and Dr. Pepper, that is. I only have the occasional beer or glass of wine. Rarely any mixed drink. And water, now and then. But I can go through 3 pots of hot tea a day...which means I have to pee every ten minutes, it seems. And that also might be the source of a lot of my weight -- overabundance of liquids. I'll have to look into that...sometime. It's just, when I'm writing I like having something to drink at hand. And water just don't hack it.
I'm at that stage in UG where I've started trying to repeat aspects of the story. Not deliberately. Fact is, it's like they're new ideas to me, but then I remember I've already got something like that in an earlier chapter and have to get rid of it. Like two steps forward and one and a half back. Fortunately, I've got a fairly decent outline of the story, this time, so it seems to be moving forward well enough.
Devlin's a bastard, but he keeps revealing aspects of his history that sort of excuse it. His father was physically abusive and may well have killed his mother and buried her somewhere. His older brother is mentally and emotionally scarred from that abuse, so he had to take over the family business. Some people have tried to take advantage of the family situation and, in fact, nearly half a million dollars was scammed out of dear old dad, which nearly sent them into bankruptcy. He's learned he has to be hard, sometimes, to keep things going.
He's also built a nasty vindictive streak that makes him need to take revenge on those who've wronged him or his brother. I can't quite figure if he was headed for a nervous breakdown or into serial killer territory when he collides with Reg. That encounter shatters his whole psyche, sending his mind into chaos and letting him see just how crazed he was becoming.
It's hard to believe I snuck this photo on the London Underground over a year ago, starting this whole story going in my brain. He's become Reg, to me...Reginald Brewster Thornton. I wish I'd followed him off the train, now. Found out who he really is. But for me to do that would be totally opposite of how I usually behave. I barely approach people I know, let alone perfect strangers.
But seeing him really did get the whole process started. His sad eyes and slumped posture. I'm not sure why Dev became the storyteller in this, or why the sex started out so raw and vicious...but that's only at first. I already see it growing gentler and more inclusive as the story progresses...some of it to my surprise.
It'll be interesting to find out how this finally turns out.
I'm at that stage in UG where I've started trying to repeat aspects of the story. Not deliberately. Fact is, it's like they're new ideas to me, but then I remember I've already got something like that in an earlier chapter and have to get rid of it. Like two steps forward and one and a half back. Fortunately, I've got a fairly decent outline of the story, this time, so it seems to be moving forward well enough.
Devlin's a bastard, but he keeps revealing aspects of his history that sort of excuse it. His father was physically abusive and may well have killed his mother and buried her somewhere. His older brother is mentally and emotionally scarred from that abuse, so he had to take over the family business. Some people have tried to take advantage of the family situation and, in fact, nearly half a million dollars was scammed out of dear old dad, which nearly sent them into bankruptcy. He's learned he has to be hard, sometimes, to keep things going.
He's also built a nasty vindictive streak that makes him need to take revenge on those who've wronged him or his brother. I can't quite figure if he was headed for a nervous breakdown or into serial killer territory when he collides with Reg. That encounter shatters his whole psyche, sending his mind into chaos and letting him see just how crazed he was becoming.It's hard to believe I snuck this photo on the London Underground over a year ago, starting this whole story going in my brain. He's become Reg, to me...Reginald Brewster Thornton. I wish I'd followed him off the train, now. Found out who he really is. But for me to do that would be totally opposite of how I usually behave. I barely approach people I know, let alone perfect strangers.
But seeing him really did get the whole process started. His sad eyes and slumped posture. I'm not sure why Dev became the storyteller in this, or why the sex started out so raw and vicious...but that's only at first. I already see it growing gentler and more inclusive as the story progresses...some of it to my surprise.
It'll be interesting to find out how this finally turns out.
