Apparently, somewhere along the way, somebody decided that we were interested in and wanted to read news articles about the misplacement of virginity committed by two soul-sucking two-dimensional pop-stars whose music adds not one iota of warmth or good or meaning to this sick world, nay, it sucks those things right out of our spirits whenever we’re subjected to them.  Somebody decided that it was acceptable, even normal for journalists to pursue this information.  I didn’t vote for this.  I have better things to do.  We all have better things to do.  The human race has more important matters at hand.  Keep that in mind at all times.  Thank you.

I was thinking about “The Purpose of Tools” and the events that have led me to write it and how it could be perceived by audiences.  Funny that it could be described as my religion-bashing play when that’s not really what it is at all.  Yes, there are MASSIVE problems with organized religion, but most of those problems are not so much about organized religion so much as they are problems with human beings and how we tend to behave when we put ourselves into groups.  People will separate themselves into groups against other groups based on anything, from the type of car they drive to where on the planet they live to what kind of music they like.  Add to this mix some seemingly unquestionable dogma such as religion, an ideology, political leaning, nationality, whatever, and you have the makings of fascism.  You have the makings of people turning off their brains and letting the group rhetoric speak for them.  You put some people at the top of these groups in positions of authority, people who so convincingly believe and express it with an incredible charisma and charm and never once appear to have any doubts that what they are saying is THE truth, THE word, no question about it, just answers, and not just answers but ALL the answers…answers that perhaps some poor deluded souls out there are dying to hear, and the rhetoric, the fascism, it spreads like a disease.  So no, this isn’t my religion bashing play.  I guess it’s really just my human-race bashing play.

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Comments

Julie

2003-06-24T21:48:24.000Z

I keep reading how the reason the Republican Party has such a hold right now is that they claim to have all the answers.  Everything is black and white and people don’t have to make murky decisions.  Whereas the Democrats chew things over a little bit and try to say, “I see the merits of that, but…”  Republicans just say “You’re wrong and you’re evil and you make Jesus cry!”  I think in the wake of September 11th, a lot of “normal” Americans are scared.  They want a big Papa Bear to tell them it will all be okay.  They don’t want to hear that the truth:  It’s not okay, it’s not going to be okay, but this is how we try to work to make it better and to make the life we’re living right now better instead of worrying about how we could die tomorrow.

I slept kind of late yesterday, clocking in breakfast at about 1:30 in the afternoon.  Consequentially, I didn’t have a very easy time falling asleep last night, and I started thinking about what I want to/need to/should do next now that The Purpose of Tools is all written.  Here’s what I came up with:

1. Production for Tools (advertising, set, whatever).

2. Provide input for and starting thinking about production of The Rapist and the Murderer.

3. Revisit horror play.  Still very interested in doing a series of short nightmare plays with one longer one-act type piece as the main show.  I have two nightmare scripts written and the framework for the one-act written in a first draft on my computer.  It just needs to be pulled out and visited anew once again.

4. Start thinking about publishing and sale of LGT scripts.

It’s done.  Finished.  “The Purpose of Tools” is officially completely written.  I put the final touches on it last night and mailed it out this morning to be made into paper copies.  Am I happy with it?  Yes.  I can honestly say that I’m very pleased with it.  True, there are probably things I could go back and find and change, but what would be the point?  I’ve had my time with it.  It is what it was meant to be.  Besides, any changes I make now will not make it on stage, and that’s what it’s intended for.  Period.  I have to say, it was most enjoyable going through the script hearing the voices of the actors we cast, in place of the celebrities I’d inadvertently attached to each of the roles during the writing process.  Now on to the next project, whatever that may be.

So I run to the bank on my lunch hour today.  And on my way back, I’m driving along 360, minding the speed limit, traffic is light…and this woman in a white car pulls up behind me and starts tailgating me.

I hate being tailgated.  I hate seeing other people get tailgated.  I hate riding in a car where the driver is tailgating someone.  I hate it I hate it I hate it.  It puts me into a murderous rage.  It makes me want to bring down all manner of furious plagues upon those who would ride too close to the bumper in front of them. 

It wasn’t like there was a lot of traffic.  Hell there was NO traffic.  She could’ve easily switched lanes and passed me, but no, she had to make like a hound dog and sniff the ass of my car with her car.  If a kitten had run out in the road and I had hit the brakes, she would have slammed right into me, no question about it.  None.  So I switch lanes, thinking at first that I’m going to just let her pass me and let my blood stop boiling later…

…but what’s that in front of me in the other lane?  Why, it’s an old Suburban going about the same speed as I was.  I checked my rearview and sure enough, the white car was catching up, ready to pass me, and would soon catch up to the Suburban ahead.  Whether she would tailgate itor actually change lanes and go around remained to be seen, but I couldn’t let an opportunity like this pass me by.  I stepped on the accelerator and caught up to the Suburban until I was neck and neck with it…and I decelerated…and watched in my rearview as the lady in the white car pulled in behind me, thinking that I was going to pass that old Suburban.  But did I?  NO!  I COASTED NECK AND NECK WITH THAT SON OF A BITCH!  I don’t recall laughing out loud, but the vengeful bastard inside me was hyperventilating with laughter at the thought of that woman being stuck behind me and that big ass Suburban, unable to pass, unable to accelerate, frustrated by my cunning vehicular skills. 

That lasted for about a minute, but then I had to exit the highway.  Otherwise I would have gone like that all the way to 71.  I hope she was late wherever she was going…or better yet, I hope she was so pissed off about being forced to slow down that she overcompensated by driving really fast and got pulled over, but tried to get out of the ticket by working up some fake tears, but the cop was a big mean mullet sporting lesbian warrior of a woman who laughed at her pathetic tears and took great joy in writing up that citation.  That’s what I hope happened.

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Comments

Anonymous

2003-07-09T20:53:28.000Z

“I brake for tailgaters.” -Allen V., wants to put that on a bumper sticker.

I’ve been dying to get rid of that working title forever, and now, thanks to my lovely girlfriend Ashley, it’s gone, replaced with a much better one that I am very very fond of.  Guess we just needed “inspiration.”

The reading went great.  I didn’t wince nearly as much as I do sometimes when having my stuff read, so that’s good…lots of good reactions.  I think I’m about ready to call this thing done. 

Oh, and Sean, the Sean Roedecker of “Scaping the Goat” fame revealed to us all that he is in fact the beastmaster.  I watched with my own eyes as he pulled apart a pit bull and a rottweiller who had gotten into a serious dogfight…not even a moment’s hesitation, he just up and did it.  I am never toying with Sean ever again.

So all of LGT already knows this, but for those who don’t, I have this weird fascination with werewolves.  Not so much that I own silver bullets, (though a recent werewolf story I read suggested that the silver may have nothing to do with the bullet’s power, but that’s a different story) but I probably spend more time thinking about them than your average person.  And yes, my friends do enjoy teasing me for it…

Last night was my second werewolf dream ever that I can remember.  The first was years ago, maybe I’ll put it in a later entry.  In this one though, it wasn’t so much a werewolf because I never saw it change into a person or anything, but it was definitely a wolf that thought and planned in a connivingly human manner…oh, and it walked on two legs…

I don’t remember how the dream started, but I recall that Ashley and I had been someplace talking either just between the two of us or with other people about this wolf thing that was attacking people in the area.  The theory was that this thing waited for people to be alone, and specifically, physically apart from their significant others.  Then it would attack.  That part is hazy…

The next part is where it gets clear.  Ashley and I were walking hand in hand across the bridge that, in my waking life, spans the creek between the office where I work and the parking garage.  We were walking towards the parking garage, just talking.  It was a beautiful day and we were happy…

For some reason I turned around, and there’s this wolf thing standing right behind us, the one we’d been talking about earlier.  It was so close I could have reached out and touched it.  It wasn’t very big, shorter than me (I’m 5’6”) and pretty thing.  It made no aggressive moves, it just stood there calmly with this blankly evil look on its face.  I grabbed Ashley and pulled her close to me and we backed away.  Still, it  didn’t do anything overtly aggressive, it just kept pace with us, making it very clear that it was going to stay with us.  Ashley and I were both trying to keep ourselves out of the panic zone, but we were obviously frightened.  Mr. Wolf, even though his face was totally blank, radiated something that said he was enjoying our fear…

I think that’s what pissed me off and what prompted me to give him the finger.  He stopped cold.  We kept backing away, but me giving him the finger had so incensed him that he stopped following us.  His expression remained blank, but something subtle, maybe the flutter of an ear, maybe something totally telepathic, let me know that he was angry, that he could bide his time, and that we were now on his list.

I woke up in the dark, very glad that werewolves don’t exist.

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Comments

Simboy17@aol.com

2004-08-04T15:03:57.000Z

I have werewolf-related dreams all the time.  I also have an obsession with werewolves.  I usually have a dream about being a werewolf rather than being chased by one but last night I had a dream that this girl who was also a werewolf and I were waiting to transform and she went to sleep.  So I was waiting then I started to transform and so did she even though she was asleep.  Then I saw some people and I ran towards them to try to make them run inside their house before I lose control of myself.  But they just got pissed at me because I had actually somehow changed back really fast.  Then the girl who was a werewolf was waking up and she hadn’t changed back so I was trying to get these people into their damn house and then I was in there and they had a door that was mostly glass and then a second door that had a giant stained glass window in it.  I was pretty screwed so I remember running upstairs and slamming a door shut behind me right as I hear the first glass door breaking and the people’s dog barking like crazy.  Then I was just sitting there thinking “what the HELL is going on here?”

So I’m hard at work last night trying to finish up my play in time for this weekend’s reading, right? And because a major component of the play is this church organization that some of the characters are involved in, the words/names “God”, “Lord”, “Jesus”, “Christ”, “Holy Spirit”, etc. appear numerous times.  And I realized that I haven’t been capitalizing them all.  Now then, the fix for this is simple, I just do a replace-all to go through and make sure that they all appear in the same format…

BUT!

…therein lies a strange problem for me.  See, the “God” that these people refer to is not the same god that I hope exists.  The god they’re talking about is this unforgiving, unmerciful, petty, conniving, materialistic entity…more like one of the Greek gods if you will.  So if they’re talking about some other god that I don’t want to believe in, do I capitalize it still and call it “God?”  See?  See how stupid this is?  I like to worry myself over ridiculous items like this.

…in your bedroom while ‘roided-out texas-style heavy metal blares from your blown japanese speakers, wearing your rubber-ducky boxer shorts and a “Guys N’ Dolls” tee-shirt.  You wake up the next morning covered in all kinds of small, egg shaped bruises.

Smoking that is.  I decided yesterday.  My last cigarette was Sunday afternoon, and I’m pretty confident.  Let’s see what happens.  By about this time tomorrow, all the nicotine should have been flushed from my system.