Tag: Sentential Links

Some things I’ve seen the last week or so….

:: Bill Altreuter reflects on a visit to Gettysburg:

I believe the United States has as its chief value in the world its aspirational qualities, and I believe that those qualities are best expressed in the Constitution and its supporting documents, particularly the Federalist Papers. The Constitution, a living document, is, like all scripture, flawed. The 3/5ths Rule, for starters was the seed for the horrors of the war I’ve spent the weekend thinking about, but we spent the next century plus– up to and including now, today– addressing the problems created by the country’s economic dependence on chattel slavery in an incomplete and unsatisfactory manner. It’s great that we have the 14th Amendment, but it would be a far better thing if we had more Supreme Court Justices that believed that the 14th Amendment means what it says.

:: Briana Morgan opens up about depression and how it affects her writing career:

I’ve been battling the blues since I was seventeen. As days of sadness turned into weeks and months and even years, I tried to wrap my mind around this new reality. When would I feel better? When would I be cured? Would the existential loneliness ever go away?

(Briana is one of an increasing number of awesome writers I’ve met on Twitter and Instagram. Seriously, she’s really great.)

:: Roger meditates on Hiroshima and Nagasaki:

Regardless, I was never convinced that the United States should be the first country to drop the bomb. The sheer devastation, not just immediately but in the aftermath, troubled me.

(I confess that I’ve always believed the “party line”, that the A-bombs had to be dropped to keep the war from grinding on into an awful, bloody, hellish 1946. I also confess that my belief in such is not informed by the closest reading of history.)

:: Sheila O’Malley on the anniversary of American Bandstand:

Dick Clark was no dummy: he made sure the show was aired in the afternoon, right when kids got home from school. It became Appointment Television for American teenagers. You could watch new music, hear new artists, see your favorites perform, and participate in the frenzy of rock ‘n’ roll, which was still exploding, outward and outward and outward, a Big Bang Theory of culture. Elvis had already moved on, his explosion was so powerful (Martin Sheen made the comment that Elvis reached the sun – what was it like up there? Who else knew but Elvis?), but many many more followed in his wake.

(I don’t remember ever watching Bandstand, but I’ll read Sheila writing about anything.)

:: John Scalzi points out, yet again, that GamerGate consists largely of dummies:

Seriously, though. How these people get through life without poking their eyes out with spoons is entirely beyond me.

(Ayup. I’ve yet to encounter anything from GamerGate that isn’t flecked with frothing stupidity.)

:: SamuraiFrog on the death of Rowdy Roddy Piper:

Man, he’s only a year older than my Dad. That’s hard to think about. I can’t imagine what his family is dealing with right now. He was just a piece of my childhood puzzle, you know? Sad, sad news.

(I have to admit this: I had no idea who Piper was, even as he died. It’s not uncommon for me to be totally unfamiliar with this or that famous person’s work when they die, but Piper took me aback, as I watched people on Facebook — friends of mine I know reasonably well — openly mourn his passing as a part of their childhoods. I had to wonder, increasingly, just how I’d managed back then to be so unplugged from the wrestling world that I literally couldn’t remember ever hearing of this man, who seems to have generated an awful lot of good will in his time here on Earth.)

:: Cal is unimpressed with Donald Trump.

Conclusion – Trump is a maniac that can’t be dealt with like a rational human being. His ego is writing checks that his butt can’t cash at this point.

:: Jennifer is not impressed with what her dog did to her glasses.

This. This is a photo of me with my now fixed glasses.

(I’ve broken two pairs of glasses in my life: one when I stepped on them in second grade, and one in college when I slipped on ice and landed flat on my backpack with the glasses inside.)

:: Lance Mannion is impressed with the rowing team he watched.

The coach finished talking and the crew set to work again. The scull took off and I ran out of room to chase after them anymore. But if I could have, I might have followed them the whole nine miles upriver to Poughkeepsie if that’s how far they were going, it was that thrilling to watch and that pleasant to be be outside and if not on the water then at least by it.

:: Lynn is not impressed with somebody’s rules for eating hot dogs.

I use whole wheat buns. Is that okay, Your High-and-Mightiness? I haven’t seen any sun dried tomato or basil buns but I would try them. Then they tell us the exact order in which the condiments must go on the hot dog. Sorry, I put the onions on first, then the chili. And I’m right; the Hot Dog Council is wrong. Putting the onions on first keeps them from falling off.

(She’s right. Onions on the bottom. I put chili on top, though…and when I have a chili dog, I eat it out of a bowl with a fork because that’s how I roll.)

:: Abby Hathorn is impressed with her new pair of vintage overalls.

On my last trip to Nashville, I stopped by this lovely little vintage shop called The Hip Zipper. There, I picked up bunches of new-old goodies, but the piece I am most excited about is my Liberty overalls!

(Abby Hathorn is another writer I met on Twitter and Instagram. She’s primarily about fashion, and she writes about clothes and fashion with an infectious sense of fun. She really likes color and variety, which is really cool, and she does not think it’s impossible to look good in overalls. Oddly, I do not own any pairs of Liberty overalls. I should probably rectify that at some point…they were the staple brand worn on Hee Haw, which we watched a lot when I was but a wee bairn, and which may well be a big part of my lifelong fascination with overalls. Hmmmm…I honestly don’t remember, but I wonder if there was pie-throwing on that show….)

Blogistan is still a nice place, even if nobody goes there anymore!

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Bloggers I like react to Leonard Nimoy’s passing:

:: I met him one night at an event at the New School. He was there with director Stanley Donen. It was just a quick “Hi, how are you” kind of introduction, but he was one of those celebrities where it was impossible to believe that it was actually him, there in the flesh. His face, as Spock, with the ears and the eyebrows and the hair, is so much a part of our culture that seeing him outside of it, as just a regular elderly guy in a suit, laughing with Donen, that face, that look, is so distinct that it floated around in my head as I looked at the real-life guy. I thought, “Now THAT’S the role of a lifetime, if it’s an after-image forevermore.” And he handled it beautifully.

:: I imagine it’s a strange thing to be a famous actor, anyway. People love and admire you for your having impressed yourself on their imaginations as various someones who are not you. Must be stranger still to be famous for one particular not you.

:: I have all of Nimoy’s albums, and while I don’t share his assessment, I do think that as a singer he’s a terrific actor. I don’t think they’re embarrassing, but they can be very earnest and Nimoy’s vocal range almost doesn’t exist.

:: This quote I found on Daily Kos is true: “We lost the man who played the first ‘cool’ science nerd… Maybe that’s why his death is having a bigger impact on many of us than we would have thought, until now.” As his last tweet read: “A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP.”

:: Not much of an anecdote, I know, but it’s all I’ve got. I really didn’t know the man but if that’s what he was always like, I wish I had. (This is a great anecdote.)

:: To be honest, I think I felt more grief yesterday than I did when I lost my real grandfathers, neither of whom I was close with. But Leonard… ah, Leonard I felt like I gotten to know, and I liked him. It’s not the loss of “Spock” I’ve been mourning. It’s the kind, good-humored old Jewish man with the quick smile and the big laugh and the unmistakable voice, the lively wit and strong sense of social justice, the celebrity who seemed genuinely concerned for his fans when he urged them to learn from his example and stay away from cigarettes.… (Jason has to outlive me so he can write my obit. That might be inconvenient for him, as I plan to live to the age of 137, but them’s the breaks.)

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Wheeee! Linking some new blogs (to me, anyway) and blogs that I’ve bookmarked or linked forever but for whatever reason (usually laziness or lack of time) I simply haven’t checked much in a while.

:: The negative is that I have been the subject of body shaming and bullying recently and I feel like I need to have a good talk with you all about the importance of watching your language and the way you talk to people. (Cut it out, people. Just stop.)

:: I swear to you, I don’t think I’ve been in a better mood than I have been today since I last ovulated.

:: I.

Am one with a giant Ponderosa pine tree.

Weird.

Yes?

Blessed and grateful?

For certain.

:: I am over the moon about my debut novel entering the big, wide, world! The unfolding of our own personal stories parallels the publishing of a book in so many ways. For me, it’s just like this gigantic, lean back in the chair, moment of awe. It has been a freaking roller coaster. And you’ve been along for the ride.

:: At a little distance, love
emerged, entirely.

:: But there is so much about the wal-mart experience that is highly unaesthetic and makes me think, “This could be so much more pleasant.”

:: He was not a perfect man — the more I find out about him, the more I realize that — but he had the courage to stand up for his principles at a time when it would have been far easier for him to back down, and he also had the bravery to stand up against authority in an age when such a thing was not only just not done but tended to be life-threatening as well. These are not bad traits to admire, even in a man whom many might otherwise find less than admirable.

More next week! Or not. You never know.

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Just to shake things up, some links which are not sentential in nature. Wow!

::  Writer-acquaintance Ashley Carlson (whose new book, The Charismatics, is both available and good!) has some thoughts on strategy for men who are trying to appeal to women on e-dating sites.

::  A good question, asked by Anne Leigh Parrish: “What if we all wrote with the idea that no one might ever read us? Would this silence us, or set us free?” I’m not sure. I don’t like the idea of not being read…but I can’t write with the assumption that a specific group of readers will read me. Good question…thoughts?

::  Wow! SamuraiFrog, one of my favorite bloggers, has been blogging for ten years! Congrats to him!

::  Who cares if the movie came out last summer? I love it to pieces, so here’s Lance Mannion’s review of Guardians of the Galaxy. (My review here.)

::  Ach, I wasn’t paying attention and missed the birthday of Robert Burns! Sheila O’Malley, as always, had things well in hand, though. (We did watch an episode of Outlander, which…well, it doesn’t count at all, I guess. But a time-travel romance drama set in Scotland is nice.)

::  Finally, I have to end on a sad note. I started reading John Scalzi’s blog right around the time they acquired a fuzzy little kitten. That kitten became a beautiful long-haired cat, who has just passed away after twelve years. Don’t read this right before driving or handling cutlery.

Keep on truckin’, folks, and if you live in NYC or Boston or points in between, stay warm and safe!

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Linkage time!

:: Always be ready for inspiration to strike. For this reason I have more than a hoarder’s share of notebooks I travel with, not to mention my phone with several apps dedicated to jotting down ideas. For this reason there is no excuse for me not to write. If I want to finish all these ideas I have I’ve got to write write write. Morning, noon, and night. (I know the feeling!)

:: Uranus is the only planet to have been named after a Greek God, Ouranos. (Those outer gas giants are so fascinating. It’s amazing to me that we’re still only a century out from them even being known to exist in the first place. I read a story by one of the early 20th century science fiction writers that had spaceships landing on the surface of Neptune. Wow!)

:: I’m going to be published.

Finally. (Great news and congratulations!)

:: So where have I been? I suppose I’ve been off being terribly, terribly angry. (Yes, this has been a banner couple of months for the “Everything is terrible” crowd.)

:: Just because I have a new baby doesn’t mean I don’t love my first baby.

:: Because of course that’s the thing: Even when these idiots declare me “not a real man,” it doesn’t change that I am always seen to be a “real man,” and that I get all the benefits that accrue to me for being biologically male, identifying as a man, and conforming to social standards for what both of those mean. The worst these dudes can do is be mean to me on the Internet. It doesn’t change anything about what I get from the world.

:: For some obscure reason, I’ve read old journals/diaries of mine from the 1970s and 1980s, and much of it is cringeworthy. The only reasons I keep them are these: 1) I could use some of it to cull out family and FantaCo history; 2) all the terrible stuff I could throw together as a roman a clef.

:: I believe in being kind to old cars.

Somebody sure had been kind to this one.

More next week, I hope!

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Linkage!

:: Overalls should be large enough to wear a cable knit sweater UNDER them. Overalls should have wide enough legs to go OVER boots, not tuck into boots. (Agreed! Oh, and scarves go perfectly with overalls. I love my scarf collection and am planning to add to it.)

:: One of the shows I used to watch religiously was MASH. Indeed, I liked it so much, I’d often watch the summer reruns. But somewhere about season 8, I stopped watching the reruns. This article by Ken Levine, who wrote for the show in the later years, touches on why; they started, generally inadvertently, recycling plotlines. Why would I need to watch the rerun when the story itself was being replicated? (We don’t rewatch stuff a whole lot here, and I always get a bit antsy when binge watching. There’s always something new to find, but we do rewatch things once in a while. As for M*A*S*H, that show’s a bit fuzzy for me. I literally grew up with it; it was on the air my entire childhood until, I think, fifth or sixth grade. By the time I knew what it was about, I think it had gone on too long, and I never felt a great deal of fondness for it. Later on, though, in high school, I discovered through syndicated reruns that the early seasons really were all kinds of brilliant. Oddly, apparently there was a huge M*A*S*H craze at my college the year before I got there, and everybody was watching the reruns at 6:30 or something like that. Weird. This was over by the time I got there. Oh, and this seems as good a time as any to bring up a usual complaint: Where the hell is Season Three of Once and Again?! It has never been released in any format. I do worry that some worthy items will slip through various cracks and never be seen again.)

:: It deeply bothers me that we’ve basically erased all of the cultural gains made by The Cosby Show and a well-off suburban black family is suddenly a big mystery again, and too many white critics can’t relate to it if Dre isn’t trying to get the family to out-black themselves every week. (Speaking of teevee…I hadn’t even heard of Black-ish until this post. Shows how much attention I pay to teevee seasons at the outset; we only attend to returning shows we already watch, and then we wait to see what’s highly-regarded and/or becomes a hit. This was we avoid the “Hey, this is good! Annnnd…it’s canceled!” thing. I’m hearing good things about this show all of a sudden, though, and if it survives, we may check it out.)

:: What a tawdry, mean, ugly, unhappy time that was.

And it’s not just the reminders of what it was like back then.

It’s learning there was even more tawdriness, meanness, ugliness, and unhappiness than I remembered.

Or ever knew.

Like the sudden, sharp rise in the price of meat.

:: I watch HOUSE and believe I have whatever mystery ailment the patient of the week has. My doctor then assures me that bleeding out of my eyes is normal, just drink a glass of water. (This is funny because, in light of Roger’s quote above, we’ve been watching/rewatching HOUSE on and off for the last few months. We didn’t watch the show regularly until its seventh season; before that it was something we occasionally watched and enjoyed but never paid much attention to. Now we are picking up on some of the standard story beats, and of course, House’s lack of social skill is quite legendary and the dialog is whip-smart. Of course, there is a danger with HOUSE that sometimes we watch it expecting a fun medical mystery…and then it’s one of the sad ones where the patient dies. It’s good to have a comedy or two in the back pocket.)

:: She was a high-school boy’s dream and my mother’s worst nightmare, a five-foot-three gymnast who styled herself after the “Like a Virgin”-era Madonna. I can’t remember how or when we first met — in fact, I really only remember a handful of moments I shared with her — but there was chemistry between us.

:: From a storytelling standpoint, I’ll take The Mummy every time. (Michael May is blogging about horror movies all month long. Check it out!)

:: I am interested in the story possibilities of such a moment as this.

More next week!

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Linkage….

:: If you are going to use a game as a delivery vehicle for a movie, then this is how you need to do it: You need to make a proper movie. I am irritated to the point of intolerance with games that interrupt our playtime for movies that are bad, poorly-paced, cliche-ridden, ham-fisted, utterly predictable, filled with glaring plot holes, tonally confused, boringly shot, and completely tedious[2]. The reflexive defense is, “It’s just a game, you’re not supposed to worry about the story!” Which is kind of my point: If the story doesn’t matter, then why are you wasting my time with it? Why did you waste money making this crappy thing that you didn’t want to make and I don’t want to watch?

:: Simmons is confusing death with music that just isn’t meant to speak to him. Each generation creates music that is relevant to that generation. The fact that Gene Simmons is not feeling the same emotions or dealing with the same issues as today’s teenager doesn’t mean the current music is any worse than when he was giving the world classics like “Love Gun” and “Christine Sixteen.”

:: Now, every time my wife starts to get down on her artwork, I can tell her, damn it, Svengoolie likes it, and so do Elvira, Jaime Murray, Ashley Eckstein, Pandora Boxx and Bruce Campbell, to name only a few.

:: The main innovation of The Three Musketeers (1973) is that it’s a comedy. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone – after all, the novel itself is very, very funny. But I was still a bit shocked at how completely hilarious the film version was. I was in stitches most of the time I was watching – and apart from a few wince-inducing moments, I was mostly laughing WITH the movie rather than at it.

:: We very nearly woke up in a different world, kids.

:: His handwriting is a fingerprint. It says: “Him. And him only.”

:: It’s been a great four weeks. If you were a part of it, thank you for being part of it. (I look forward to reading Mr. Scalzi’s book…and hope that a future tour brings him closer to Buffalo! Come on, Mr. Scalzi! We don’t have cooties up here! And depending on which way the wind blows, our city smells like Cheerios.)

More next week!

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Hey, want some links? Well tough shit, you’re gettin’ ’em anyway.

:: It’s not our fault that someone as an issue with us. We don’t owe anybody an explanation for our life choices, especially some stranger we neither know or respect.

:: In hindsight, I should have known. I didn’t mention the case, but the defendant was accused of assaulting a police officer at 3:20 a.m. nearly a year ago. I was undoubtedly bumped by the defense attorney because I was still thinking about my victimization, AND because I was perceived, I’m thinking as too pro-cop. Not the way I see myself, but there it is. (I think I’m due to get called at some point in the not-too-distant future. Last time, I got out because The Wife and I were working opposite schedules which would have left a three-hour window during which we had no one to watch The Daughter, who was only six or seven at the time. I was always impressed that the judge was understanding about that, and in all honesty, I found that the Erie County jury-selection process really is designed to be as pleasant as possible, given that nobody especially wants to be there. Next time, we’ll see what happens! I wouldn’t mind serving, actually.)

:: Oh here’s a good one: The Ice Bucket Challenge is a Satanic Ritual. And Oprah is Satan. (Crap, wish I’d have known about that before I dumped the water on my head.)

:: It’s hard to admit I’m happy, but I really am. (Well, they say the first step to solving a problem is admitting…wait, that’s not the response called for here…hmmm….)

:: If you ever begin a post with the phrase “In today’s society…” you fail the class immediately.

There. That should take care of that.

You’re welcome, America. (Yeesh. In today’s society, profs are jerks!)

:: As I go about my day here in the Queen City of the Lakes what I’m seeing is something quite new to me in my time here: economic activity.

:: It’s a poison place filled with poison people; it makes Reddit look like a circumspect garden party by comparison, and that is indeed the very point of the site, to allow people to wallow in this sort of thing anonymously with no consequences. (Every new story about the rampant sexism in the gaming world gives me pause, because The Daughter’s favorite hobby is gaming, and she’s actually mentioned it as a field she’d be interested in pursuing later in life.)

More next week, unless I decide that there won’t be. In which case, well, you know….

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Time for linkage! These are from blogs of fellow writer type people.

:: Sometimes life imitates art, but more often it’s the other way around. As strange as it sounds, what happens to Sara in this chapter happened to me when I was visiting my best friend’s grave. Darbi died in a car accident when we were only seventeen, and I thought of her often while I was writing this book. Her death hit me really hard, but I believe what happened that day at her gravesite was her way of letting me know she was okay. (I haven’t been reading this story, but I do believe in our writing and our art being shaped by the things that have happened to us along the way.)

:: Something incredible happened to me this weekend. It was an unexpected, monumental moment in my life, one that I have dreamed about for so long but part of me actually doubted if it would ever happen. But it did happen. It definitely did and I have the proof here on my computer.

I started to write my novel again.

:: Do you ever read a book and one of the main characters, or a beloved character, dies? Do you get upset with the story itself or do you actually get upset at the writer? (It depends, I suppose. A death has to make some semblance of sense within the story. It needs to be set up; it can’t be arbitrary. Yes, in life, death is often insanely arbitrary, but I don’t read or write in order to reflect the real world. Arbitrary death always feels false to me. So does excessive death. George RR Martin comes close to being excessive at times, although frankly, the degree to which his stories are bloodbaths isn’t really among my complaints about his books. Nicholas Sparks, though? There’s a guy who is so reliant on death as a narrative device that it really lessens the impact his books have, the more you read. And then there are movies where the villains do so much killing that it’s not a moment of triumph when they are defeated, but one of relief. I’m thinking of The Patriot, with that awful scene in which a villain whose villainy is already well established decides to lock a bunch of colonists in a church and set the church afire. Another example is Air Force One, which has Gary Oldman kill a couple of people in taking over the plane…and then, a bit later on, has a gratuitously depressing scene where he holds a gun to some poor woman’s head as he gives the Action Hero President until the count of ten to surrender. The President doesn’t, and Oldman kills the woman. For me, in my writing, death is the Big Gun. I know that I will have to kill a few characters off over the long haul, but I don’t look forward to it. You know who handled death really well in her books? JK Rowling. The deaths in the Harry Potter books get to both mean something and be arbitrary. I’m kind of starting to think that Rowling is underrated as a writer.)

:: Have you planned a writing retreat or attended one? (I never have, and I’m not sure I’d want to…let me put that differently, I’d be nervous about attending one. I tend to be wary of sharing my work or talking about writing at all, which is my introvert self taking over. Maybe I need to start getting over it….)

:: So far, so good.

I have a place for all the Elements.

But the problem I have here, is that the mythology of these Elemental directions is then out of whack.

This causes me problems, because I like the idea of endings in the West, where the sun sets, and begins in the East, with the rising sun, and the many stories that go with these associations.

Placing my Elements as I have, doesn’t fit this.

So what is one to do?

:: Parker is almost six, though she will correct you immediately that she is “five and three-quarters” if she hears you say that because she is precise, and detail-oriented, and very much her father’s daughter in that way.

But she is my daughter too.

A daughter that I was petrified of having, and then elated that I was having – all because of a very tumultuous past I have with my own mother.

:: Sometimes when I’m reading a novel or watching a show, the writer throws an empty threat into it. In a novel I was recently reading, a love triangle develops, but I knew from day one that the protagonist was going to stay with her first love. Yet, the author dragged me about this awkward love triangle for the majority of the book. It was still interesting, but it lacked stakes, it lacked intensity because I knew nothing big would come out of it.

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Linkage.

:: But now I understand why people are nostalgic. It’s your brain trying to express a moment, and recognizing that the only people who would ever truly get what you’re trying to express were the ones who were there, and they already know.

:: I got in trouble at Graceland, basically, because I wanted to read Elvis’ marginalia. (Wow…why have it on display if you’re going to discourage people reading something Elvis scrawled in a book?)

:: Police militarization was a mistake. You can argue that perhaps we didn’t know that at the time. No one knew in 1990 that crime was about to begin a dramatic long-term decline, and no one knew in 2001 that domestic terrorism would never become a serious threat. But we know now. There’s no longer even a thin excuse for arming our police forces this way.

:: You might think that Dolly is being a dolt about how day, night, and the various bodies in our solar system relate to each other, but she’s actually 100% right: it’s two in the afternoon and the “dark” is the construction paper Mommy and Daddy have used to block all the windows in the Keane Kompound, punishing the children for some minor act of disobedience with simulated eternal night. Sorry, PJ, but you won’t get to see the sun again until your older siblings show some halfway convincing repentance.

:: Chad Scott. What did you do to the world? Was this a joke? Some plot to punish people? Were you sitting at home in your rat cage and your roommate said, “Gee, what do you want to do tonight, Chad?” and you respond with, “The same thing we do every night, Pinky, try to kill the entire population of the world with stench and bad ideas.” (I wasn’t a fan.) First of all, I’m very open-minded when it comes to flavor combinations and food and trying new things … I sort of have to be in my line of work. But all of my senses were assaulted, here. For this, I will never forgive Mr. Chad Scott. – See more at: http://www.hobotrashcan.com/2014/08/14/bacon-and-legs-cappuccino-chips-and-the-seven-depths-of-hell/#sthash.MUj5z9G0.dpuf (Yeah. Under no circumstances will I subject myself to this.)

:: So I’m going to help Marvel find it’s “next Guardians,” the C and D characters who will rack of a few hundred million at the box office.

And to make it a challenge, I’m only going to use characters who’ve starred in Marvel Premiere and Marvel Spotlight, because that’s a key breeding ground for losers.

Let’s start with this guy… (Hmmmm. Maybe…just maybe….)

:: I hate writing tributes. And this year it seems I’ve had to write more than ever. Some are more personal, some are bigger stars than others, but they all chip away at the soul.

:: I like to think that before Robin Williams passed from this world altogether, bound for whatever lies ahead for all of us in that undiscovered country, he was granted a brief moment to pause and look back and see how many of us have been standing on our desks this week in solidarity and affection for our fallen captain. I hope the sight made him smile. (Like Jason, I have problems with Dead Poets Society, but in terms of sheer imagery, the standing-on-the-desks is so iconic that it really seems the best way to say farewell to a deeply talented, and apparently deeply troubled, man.)

More next week!

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