David Dubrow's Blog, page 17

2017 in Review: Top Five Posts

I like having an online place to hang my hat, to write about the things I want to write about, to show my readers what I’m up to. Some posts are more popular than others, and it’s always a surprise to look at the statistics: my favorite articles rarely get the traffic I think they should, and the more throwaway pieces often see more hits than the serious ones. Go figure. In ascending order of hits, these are the five most popular posts of 2017.

5: My Triumphant Return to Facebook : Despite that the title was a lie, it’s still a good piece that reiterates why I left Facebook and why the decision is still a good one. Author David Angsten has called Facebook (and I’m paraphrasing here; he said it better himself, as he always does) “the cocktail party with all your friends right outside your door”, and he’s right. There’s always the temptation to dip in. Anyway, everyone likes to go meta and talk about the nature of social media, hence this post’s popularity.
4: Book Review: The Space Vampires : This was a real surprise. To commemorate film director Tobe Hooper’s passing, I watched his movie Lifeforce again and re-read the book it had been based on, Colin Wilson’s The Space Vampires. As it was an older book and worth discussing, I reviewed it for the site and it got plenty of hits. A fun, pulpy read, positing some very bizarre theories on human energy.
3: Book Review: Red Room #1 : This post’s popularity was also a surprise. Who knew people wanted to know what I thought about this new magazine? Even though the interview gets kind of social justice-y, it’s a great magazine of crime and horror stories, something you should be reading if you’re not already. Looking forward to issue #2!
2: The Problem Isn’t Hollywood. The Problem Is You. : In this post I made the unwelcome connection between your buying decisions and your buying choices. As long as you keep spending your money on empty, unimaginative franchise pieces, Hollywood will continue to produce empty, unimaginative franchise pieces. And don’t get me started on indie content creators singing the praises of these bloated wastes of attention: it’s like knowingly eating rat poison and wondering why you feel so sick.
1: Twitter Is the Worst Thing Ever Devised : Like I said, everyone likes to read about social media almost as much as they like to be on it, hence this post’s popularity. I raked the value of Twitter over the rhetorical coals and explained how awful it is even while using it. I think the reason why people like the social media posts so much is because we all know that social media is bad for us, like smoking cigarettes or skin-popping heroin, but we do it anyway. (What?) Everyone’s always trying to quit something, but people serious about it actually quit. They don’t try to.

Last year’s top five included more political material, but a social media analysis article ranked up there too, proving my point about its interest to the general public. Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the site’s most popular article of all time: Red Flags and Ginger Nuts of Horror. I love linking to the piece because it always gets a rise out of Jim Mcleod, the drama queen it describes, and illustrates that the things I write about, like ethics, morals, and culture, have real-world consequences. The ill-educated, half-witted Philistines don’t all work in publishing; some have arrogated themselves the role of gatekeepers of media, and it’s important to show the world how worthless they are.

2017 in Review: Top Five Books

Despite my writing proclivities I read across genres, and not just because I occasionally intend to review what I read. Most of what I’ve read this year I haven’t reviewed. Pleasantly, this year I’ve mostly figured out the trick of being a book author and a book reviewer: it’s reviewing the stuff you like and not reviewing the stuff you don’t like. Make no promises and you’ll alienate no one. Win-win.

Here are the top five books I’ve read this year.

5: Empire of Imagination: Gary Gygax and the Birth of Dungeons and Dragons  by Gary Witwer: One of the most transformative moments of my younger days was joining the high school’s D&D club and playing the RPGs I’d collected since age ten. There will always be a special place in my heart for Dungeons and Dragons, and this biography of Gary Gygax, D&D’s creator, unveils so much I didn’t know about the early days of the game. It gets a bit silly in parts with the dramatizations of moments in Gygax’s life, but overall it’s a must-read for D&D fans.
4: The Assyrian by Nicholas Guild: Not dissimilar to Mika Waltari’s The Egyptian and Gary Jennings’s Aztec, Guild’s two novels about the life and times of Tiglath Ashur are riveting reading. Published in 1987, they’re as relevant today as when they were written, focusing on universal themes and unforgettable characters.
3: My Tired Shadow by Joseph Hirsch: What can I say about this book that I haven’t already said in my review? The rise and fall and further descent of Ritchie “Redrum” Abruzzi is a classic story, well told. Full of brutal ugliness and intense pathos, it’s the kind of book you don’t see coming, like a shovel hook to the liver.
2: Night of the Furies by David Angsten: The sequel to Angsten’s amazing Dark Gold , it continues the adventures of Jack Duran, who is once again plunged into terrifying adventures by his scholarly but irresponsible brother Dan. This time the action moves to the Greek isles, where the old gods are still in charge. Once I got to the last third, the titular Night, I could not put the book down. Fast-reading and mind-ripping, it rekindled that sense of Hellenic magic and danger I remember from Mary Renault’s The King Must Die.
1: Tough Guys by Adrian Cole: I wasn’t half-finished reading Tough Guys when I knew that it was likely going to be my favorite book of the year. In every story in the collection the writing is sharp, the plotting is tight, and every scene builds on the next, tightening the nerves until the conclusion. Characters like Oil-Gun Eddy and Razorjack echo in the imagination long after the book’s done. I can only compare Cole’s work to writers like Robert E. Howard and Michael Moorcock with the highest respect and admiration. If you read nothing else this or any other year, read Tough Guys. I can’t believe Cole isn’t a household name in every fantasy/horror fan’s lexicon.

Only one horror book in the favorites pack this year, though it was the top one. What surprises does 2018 have in store?

2017 in Review: Top Five Movies

I’ve watched fewer movies this year than in previous; between writing, spending time with family, and the occasional television program, there hasn’t been time for it. Also, my overall discontent with Hollywood and its emphasis on empty, worthless franchise projects makes finding a movie worth seeing a difficult prospect at best.

And yet I did see stuff I liked. Here are my top five movies of 2017:

5: The Theta Girl : Trippy and bizarre in all the right ways, The Theta Girl proved that a low budget doesn’t automatically equal low quality in filmmaking. When it wasn’t funny it was grotesque, and despite the uneven acting it had some unforgettable scenes. If you have the opportunity to see it, pop some Lemonheads and put your peepers on the screen.
4: Wichita : A movie I dug despite a draggy middle section, it was full of pleasant surprises. Trevor Peterson as Jeb was the stand-out, and if you’re going to hang your movie on a single actor’s performance, he was the perfect pick. Creepy but vulnerable, he made the film.
3: They Call Me Jeeg : This year I’ve made my disgust with superhero films crystal clear, but They Call Me Jeeg turns the entire genre inside-out, making it fresh and worth paying attention to. Enzo, the protagonist, goes from being kind of disgusting to sympathetic to heroic, which is movie magic the likes of which James Cameron has never achieved. Check it out.
2: Burn : It’s a short film, and in the interest of full disclosure was written and produced by Chris Barnes, proprietor of The Slaughtered Bird. Putting aside my biases, I really liked this movie. Punchy, disquieting, and extremely well-done despite the minimal budget, it takes Michael Keaton’s My Life and eviscerates it with a meat hook.
1: Deep in the Wood : When considering my favorite films of the year, there was never any question that Deep in the Wood was going to sit at the top of the list. We use terms like “affecting” and “unforgettable” a lot in movie reviewing, but this one takes the cake for intensity. Every scene is meticulously planned, portrayed, and produced for maximum effect. I loved it.

Next year, I may switch from movies to Top Five TV Shows of 2017, but we’ll see.

Movie Review: Somebody’s Darling

For my last movie review of the year, I reviewed Somebody’s Darling at The Slaughtered Bird:

The vague intimations of a plot made themselves known about 45 minutes in, but by then it became difficult to maintain attention. Something about a high-class college fraternity led by Christian, a handsome young man existing somewhere on the mid-to-high-functioning end of the autism spectrum. Sarah, hostile to fraternities and romantic relationships in general, goes to Christian’s frat party; says some mean things to him that are supposed to make the audience stand up and shout, “You go, (person who identifies as a) girl;” and storms out. Then she meets him again on campus and they sort of strike up a friendship and there’s sort of a love triangle with them and some asshole in a baseball cap and then Christian gets sick.

Was this film my darling? Will it be yours? Click to find out!

Appalling Stories: 13 Tales of Social Injustice

I’m pleased to announce that my newest book is available for download at Amazon!

Appalling Stories: 13 Tales of Social Injustice is an anthology of short stories written with authors Paul Hair and Ray Zacek, spanning several genres and points of view. It also features a foreword by R.M. Huffman, author of Leviathan and Fallen, books 1 and 2 of The Antediluvian Legacy, so you know it’s good. Here’s a peek at the back cover copy:

With political correctness gobbling up the culture like a fat kid on his sister’s quinceañera cake, where do you go for quality, old-school entertainment?

Appalling Stories focuses on themes and characters you’re just not supposed to read about anymore, using social issues as the setting, not the plot. Inside, you’ll read about a disturbing erotic resort that caters to an exclusive clientele, a violent Antifa group biting off much more than they can chew, a serial killer with a furious inch, and a lot more.

The authors find message fiction as tedious as you do, and traditional publishing seems intent on shoving favored narratives down readers’ throats. This anthology pushes back against PC moralizing, bringing you story above all else. Are you going to let Social Justice Warriors dictate what you can and can’t read?

Consider this your trigger warning.

Ben Wilhelm, Staff Writer for NOQReport and noted advocate for veterans and Second Amendment issues, said of it, “Ripped from the headlines, Appalling Stories is brilliant satire that illustrates the downfall of American society in the realms of culture, morality, religion, and even military policy. It is a must read for every patriotic American!”

Heck, even if you’re not a patriotic American, you’ll dig it.

Kristin Devine, a contributing author of GenderDreaming, the atomic feminist, and Ordinary Times, says of Appalling Stories, “While reading Appalling Stories: 13 Tales of Social Injustice you’ll find yourself in a rapidly deflating lifeboat afloat in a dark and dank sea of forbidden ideas. You won’t feel safe in these waters. Dive in anyway!”

All the stories within are terrific, but the best story in the book isn’t even mine! So what’re you waiting for? Get clicking and get reading!

My Tired Shadow Is Live!

In late August, I reviewed an advance copy of Joseph Hirsch’s novel My Tired Shadow right here:

There’s little to like about Ritchie “Redrum” Abruzzi, the protagonist of Joseph Hirsch’s My Tired Shadow. A former pro boxer, Ritchie’s also a bully, a thief, and a shit who makes his money by doing the only thing he’s half-way good at: beating people to a bloody smear with his fists. So no, I don’t like him at all.

But damn it, I do love him. How can I not? He’s me. Or, rather, he’s the part of me who yearns for greatness but gets in his own way every time. He’s smart enough to know what he’s capable of, but not strong enough to overcome his own weaknesses. His needs. His anger. Forged in the blood and sweat and spit of the boxing ring, Ritchie’s both the gold and the dross, and that’s what makes him such an unforgettable figure in a fast-reading novel that’ll leave you gasping like a fighter who’s just taken a shot to the liver.

I’m pleased to announce that My Tired Shadow is available right now on Amazon! You like good books, don’t you? So what’re you waiting for? Go get your copy!

Writers and Social Media in the Age of Trump

We need to talk about business relationships, social media, and writers in the Age of Trump. I myself was a reluctant Trump voter once Ted Cruz dropped out of the primary, and I’ve been a conservative for over twenty years. Trump does some things I like and some things I don’t like. He’s a politician, so he’s automatically suspect; the lionization of politicians, people who want control over how you live, is one of the more disturbing elements of modern society. Most fiction writers are not conservatives. Most call themselves progressives, independents, or moderates. However they’re labeled, it’s clear that they’re anti-Trump. This doesn’t bother me; I came to my political beliefs through research and careful consideration, and I owe fealty to family, God, and country in that order, not a politician. I’m quite familiar with the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution; I’ve read The Federalist Papers, several books by 17th century philosopher John Locke, Charles de Montesquieu’s On the Spirit of the Laws, and similar texts to deepen my understanding of how, on what, and why my country was founded. I hope you’ve done something similar.

Social media-fueled political division has scoured our collective skin to its most sensitive layer; Twitter and Facebook are filled to the brim with angry people wielding scalpels and bile every hour of every day. This collective rage, bleeding into hate, isn’t even personal any longer. We’ve just rubbed each other raw for so long that the slightest touch draws blood and fury in equal measure. We can talk about how we got here another time, but we are here, so we’re just going to have to live with it.

If you voted for/supported Obama in 2008 and 2012, you’re no doubt terribly unhappy with 2016’s presidential results. This is entirely understandable. However, if you’re honest, you have to acknowledge that you had it pretty easy during the Obama years. Nobody seriously challenged you or what you believed. Every news outlet, save one, venerated Obama as a man who could do no wrong. The entertainment class, save for a tiny handful of actors, worshiped him. You achieved universal healthcare, nearly unrestricted immigration, the erasure of the War on Terror, and many other progressive policy gains. Even if you had your problems with Obama, it’s undeniable that the arts, particularly the literary scene, have been owned by progressives for decades. Several decades. Progressives still control it. Stephen King and J.K. Rowling, arguably the most popular authors writing today, are vocal progressives, always eager to stick it to Trump, his supporters, and his voters at every opportunity.

And yet Trump won. It’s upsetting. I get it. This buffoon, this crude, baby-handed ogre is representing us around the world, to our utter humiliation. Stupid, evil, pussy-grabbing Donald J. Trump is the President of the United States, to the cheers of every racist, sexist idiot across the country. Your disgust at such an unacceptable state of affairs needs an outlet. You’ve got to vent.

The great news is that it’s pretty safe to vent when you’re a progressive/independent/moderate writer. You’re in the majority, so you’re always going to find an audience for your loathing of Trump and his moronic supporters. It’s a way of bonding with other writers, most of whom are like-minded.

Other writers don’t make up the majority of your customers, however. At least, they shouldn’t. Readers do. And, like it or not, there are at least as many Trump-voting readers as there are Trump-hating readers. You never lose readers because of what you don’t tweet.

Now that we hate each other so much, consider what posting the next “Trump’s a KKK Member” meme does: it insults the people who voted for him by painting them as racists. And it binds his supporters to him that much tighter. Not only that, but it’s unprofessional. If you’re trying to make money, why alienate half your customer base? I’m not doing business with anyone who insinuates, infers, or implies that I’m a racist/sexist/bigot/homophobe, and neither should you.

This is not a cry for mercy; you do what you have to in the Age of Trump. In fact, I like it when you call me a racist or a Nazi because of who I voted for; knowing how small and angry and hateful you are makes me happy. Your contempt delights me. I don’t typically choose who I buy from based on ideology, but I’ll be damned if I buy books from or work with someone who goes out of his way to tell me how evil I am. You are not Stephen King. You can’t afford to alienate your customer base. He can. He’s made his fortune. You haven’t.

Conservatives in the arts don’t have to make a big thing out of not buying your books or writing for your press. We just won’t participate. When you hate us, we hate you right back. Selecting your colleagues and customers on the basis of ideology over ability is not the behavior of a serious writer.

The bottom line is that nobody gives a shit if you hate Trump. There’s no courage in expressing your banal, cheap loathing for such an easy and obvious target. Nobody gives a shit if you like him, either. Just try not to be stupid enough to call your customers idiots/racists/bigots for voting for him. You might increase sales.

Movie Review: The Follower

(Not to be confused with It Follows.)

I reviewed the indie horror flick The Follower at The Slaughtered Bird:

At this point in horror filmmaking, found footage has become a style rather than a gimmick, so you can take it or leave it. I don’t mind the style as long as it doesn’t make me throw up. In service to it, the story focuses on David Baker, who runs a YouTube channel that focuses on weird phenomena. He’s invited to a strange house in the woods that Carol, the beautiful owner, says is haunted. Occult hijinks ensue, from moving chairs to dropping light bulbs to exploding tape recorders.

Is this a film you want to follow all the way to video, or one you hope doesn’t follow you home? Only one way to find out, and that’s by clicking!

Endless War

America’s widening ideological/cultural/political division, what we often call the Culture War, is not going to heal in your lifetime.  It won’t heal in your children’s lifetime, either. Or your grandchildren’s. Simply whining about the divide, whether you’re a politician or a concerned citizen, won’t fix what’s wrong. More communication won’t fix it, either; social media has enabled us to talk to each other for years, and the divide yet widens. In fact, it would be better if we didn’t talk to each other so much, because we’ve used these platforms to spread disunity and tribalism rather than togetherness. The Brotherhood of Man is sundered, not least because we can’t even agree on what a man is, biologically speaking.

This division didn’t happen ex nihilo.

The way that the Culture War has been fought makes ending the conflict impossible. Nobody has the authority to call a truce, and none of the combatants would agree to one in any case. National tragedies like mass shootings, terrorist attacks, or natural disasters no longer result in temporary armistices; instead, we’ve decided to “never let a serious crisis go to waste.” That is, we’ve politicized every single aspect of human life, from God to TV to weather to bridge collapses.

By politicizing everything, you criminalize every difference of opinion. You reduce every issue, no matter how complex, into a Manichean proposition of good vs. evil. Brendan Eich learned that to his cost. Masterpiece Cake Shop learned that to their cost. And I learned it also, when Jim Mcleod, proprietor of the horror site Ginger Nuts of Horror, kicked me off the writing staff and called me, a Jewish man, a Nazi for expressing, in my own space, opinions that millions and millions of other people share. If your difference of opinion has been elevated to the status of criminal hate speech, how can you possibly find common ground with people who disagree?

The entertainment class has decided to escalate the Culture War further by expressing, loudly and frequently, its utter contempt and loathing for the other side. That the other side also buys movie tickets and watches television shows is immaterial: what matters is signaling one’s virtue by slandering one’s ideological adversaries. Nobody makes a Hollywood actor call someone a Nazi at gunpoint: these people choose their ideology and they choose the ways in which they express it. You don’t have to go on Twitter and call your customers KKK members because of who they voted for. So is it any wonder that many of us are secretly cheering every disgusting revelation of appalling behavior from Hollywood’s casting couches rather than expressing dismay? Hollywood has set itself up as the political enemy of half the country, not to mention its moral superior. It hates us rubes in flyover country. Why shouldn’t we hate Hollywood back? Why should we forbear the smallest slight, in light of how divided we are? Remember your Shakespeare.

Social media fuels the Culture War with every angry Tweet, every thoughtless Facebook status. We’ve got too much communication going on, not too little. Daily doses of loathing poisons the psyche; it strains the nerves, keeping us on edge. Anger’s easy to kindle, but difficult to maintain; it provides a dopamine-like hit that’s too addictive to quit, but terribly exhausting to endure. This is undeniably detrimental not just to our common culture, but to civilization as a whole. Lacking the Brotherhood of Man, we can no longer come together to repel the Visigoths at the gate, be they Muslim extremists, domestic anarchists, or even the decay of the rule of law. There’s no longer an us or a we. There’s you, there’s me, and there’s fuck you for disagreeing, you Nazi; go die in a fire. The sickening public responses to recent mass shootings and hurricanes and terror attacks have taught us this.

The solution isn’t to lay down your arms and hope the other side does the same. Not when your livelihood’s at stake because you think that gender is a biological constant rather than a social construct. Not when your reputation’s at stake because you believe that the proper response to an armed attack is overwhelming force instead of continued conversation. Not when your life’s at stake because you want to take responsibility for your own personal safety instead of unilaterally disarming. After a victory, we’d all like to lean on our shovels and say, “Well, that’s done.” Well, it’s not done, it’s not over, and you have to keep fighting.

From the ease with which terms like “Nazi” and “racist” are thrown around, with companies signaling their virtuous tolerance in letting deviants into women’s private areas, to the horrific revelations about how the Hollywood sausage is made, we’re seeing with crystal clarity exactly what happens when you let anything slide. That time is over.

If the people in Hollywood hate you so much, don’t enrich them by watching their movies and TV shows. If the inmates at the local college dismissively refer to your hard work and sacrifice as “white privilege,” don’t send your kids there to be indoctrinated in Social Justice claptrap. And if the ideologically-driven news media trots out lie after lie in service to a narrative at odds with your deeply-held ethics, don’t give them your clicks and attention. You can do quite a lot simply by opting out. You can do that at least, can’t you?

Movie Review: The Theta Girl

(I know I said I had a book review for Thanksgiving week, but I’m brooming that for the time being to make room for this movie review. It’s worth it.)

I reviewed the low-budget indie horror film The Theta Girl at The Slaughtered Bird:

The story, reaching back to 60’s and 70’s themes of turning on, tuning in, and dropping out, focuses on Gayce, a drug dealer who distributes Theta, the ultimate psychedelic. That it just happens to look exactly like Lemonheads is a complete coincidence and you should totally ignore that. (Or laugh at it, like I did. You’re supposed to.) Some people react well to Theta…and some don’t. The movie then concerns itself with bad trips, naked orgies, horrific murders, God, and the nature of reality. Yes, you read that right.

Is The Theta Girl as groovy and trippy as Timothy Leary, or just square, man? Only one way to find out, and that’s by clicking!

This year, as always, I’m thankful that I’m lucky enough to be married to my wife, and that we have a wonderful little boy. I’m thankful that I’m healthy and can write. Have a happy Thanksgiving.