The Action is Elsewhere

This is the 800th entry on this blog. A lot has changed.

New Year's Eve. Where did the year go? Where did the autumn go?

Need to sort myself out, 2007. Might be a bit scarce this week, trying to pull it together. It's so easy, to disappear completely. But it's all in the interest of coming back stronger. Better. Faster. Going forward.

I've done some good, the past twelve months. Can't afford to choke in the new year.

I really wonder what it's for, sometimes. Maybe I can figure it out later.

Misanthropic New Year to all. I'll see you in bad dreams.

Nobody Likes Me

Hey, I get it already. I would hate me too, for getting a deal with Paramount. Truthfully, I actively hate myself. It's not that it's all I want to talk about with other people. It just happens to be the ONLY thing I've got to talk about. Coz other'n this, my life's a big zero.

I am... elsewhere, at the moment.

But I had to drop a blog confirming that I've just (like literally a minute ago) completed the rough-rough first draft of my screenplay. Adaptation. What have you.

Before the new year. Before the eve of the new year. Two months into my three-month allotment of time.

Now... the dreadful task of reading it.

One month for do-overs.

Who wants ice cream?

The Christmas That Wasn't

I woke up this morning to the smell of roasting ham... I guess one of my neighbors was cooking ham...

Yes, a Christmas alone in the Fortress of Solitude 2.0. Can I get a "HELL YEAH"?

My mother dropped by the city, with her partner, and we had lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant. I pretended to be normal.

Wanted to be alone this Christmas. Just didn't feel like I earned a Christmas this year. And I've been forcing myself to write, which for some reason has required me to block out the world. Not that the world was exactly beating down my door.

I've been thinking about what a luxury it is to take things for granted. Some would argue for the importance of NOT taking the good things for granted... but I think the best part of having good things in your life is being able to take them for granted.

I've gone through stretches in my life where I was desperately thankful for everything I had. It's exhausting. And it was coupled with the fear of losing those good things. A homeless man wakes up with a home and some money, it's going to be a while before he stops being afraid of losing those things. If he ever does.

Point being, I admire the people who can take the good things in their lives for granted. It must be a great comfort.

Happy Holidays, lurking world. (Said with sarcasm.) I've gotta finish writing a horror movie...

Holiday Hanging

As a kid, on Christmas Eve, I'd be psychotic with anticipation. I think one of my fondest Christmas memories was getting a ColecoVision. 1982. I played the hell out of that thing. We were living in the boondocks of Brooklyn at the time...

I had a lot of good X-mases. I been watching a shitload of old-school Christmas specials/cartoons, trying to work up some kind of feeling.

But I got no feeling. Except cold.

The Grinch has stolen Christmas. Scrooge will sleep without dreams tonight.

My 30th Christmas shall be stillborn.

Light a candle. Say "Malice Highload" in a mirror five times.

Demons keep me company tonight.

Diddy's in the Woods

Yo yo yo yo yo yo, we gotta get the fuck outta here yo! It's Diddy's boys!

RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!

This made me LOL.

You can read about racoon dogs here.

"Raccoon Dogs are secretive and not very aggressive; they prefer to hide or scream rather than fight, and play dead to avoid predators."

In other words, racoon dogs are the official new mascot of Misanthropy Central.

Dead to the world,
M'alice

Antichristmas

These things happen in cycles. Perhaps I'll be visited by three ghosts on Christmas Eve and renew my faith in the world and the essential good of handicapped children.

Doubtful.

And yet, I'm feeling strangely optimistic about life, the universe, everything. Probably because I'm nearing the end of the rough-rough first draft of my script.

Been to a series of social events this week, yet feel more antisocial than ever.

Next year, the sea change progresses. But every day matters till then. I don't even want to think about New Year's Eve... elephant in the room, i'nit?

Mediocre People Do Exceptional Things All the Time

Had a grand time at the Friar's Club last night. I think. Tom Fontana might think I'm a yutz, but I'm not entirely sure "yutz" is a word, so I'm okay with that.

These are the dying days of 2006. My script's coming along, I think. I've reached the point where anything goes. Just making it up as I come to it. Hopefully, a bunch of unexpected scares. At least on the page. Resisting the urge to retreat and rewrite. That's what January is for.

Life's a bit of absurd, at the mo. Running about headless. Who gives a crap. You can think it to death or you can just dive in.

Oblique enough of an entry...?

Sometimes I feel like a sociopath. I really ought to be in therapy. But I'd rather wallow in quiet dysfunction.

Lemme hearya say HEYYYY....!

Scrooge Me

Growing up, I loved Christmas...

I fucking hate it now...

In career terms, I've had the best year of my life. On a personal level, the year's sucked more than ever. And I'm looking forward to my lamest Christmas day ever...

Next year, I'll have a better time. Maybe I could nail this gig...

Racist Koont(z)

Netflixed/watched "Demon Seed" this weekend, for reasons I completely forget. (This happens a lot. "Why did I rent this...?")

It's absurdly bad. Anyhoooo, I noticed during the opening creds, it's based on a Dean Koontz book. I've never actually read one of his books, but I thought I remembered my sister reading some of his books years ago and commenting on his vaguely racist depiction of Asians in them. (In hindsight, I think she was actually talking about Robin Cook, physician/author who I've also never read.)

So while the movie's running, I google "Dean Koontz racist" and come up with...

THIS...

And THIS...

I guess it's an old controversy now, but I never heard of it and it threw me for a loop. I'm hardly one of those uppity, militant "ASIANS RULE" types -- and I've been known to engage in some off-color humor within certain social circles -- but there's always a specific, understood context. But it just seems like THIS scenario was totally obscene, more so because most of the audience supposedly loved it...

A belated Misanthropy Central JEERS to you, Mr. Koontz!
---
Hey, it's Julie Benz!

Brace Yourself, Fool!

I know, I know, this blog kinda sucks right now. (Unlike before.) Dealing with shit and trying to get shit done this month.

To all the motherfuckers at my old day job who lurk here (I can SEE you!), I don't think I'll be going back in January. I still have to touch base with the Powers That Be, so don't go crowing about it all over town just yet, but I don't think I'm coming back. It might make things tougher for me, but I might need it to be that way. And six months from now, I might still skulk back there with my tail between my legs as a tempbot, but I'll deal with that then. For right now, I've gotta work without the safety net.

If I haven't made this clear, I am NOT having a good time right now. I've still got everything to lose, and writing is a pain in the ass, and I am NOT going out and living it up. But there'll be time enough for that if I can play my cards properly over the next few months.

2007, man. 2007, I'm going on a fucking rampage. No prisoners. Nobody will survive. It will be brutal.

Insider

All right, I'll say it, I don't get it.

Obviously this was made a number of years ago. I just can't quite figure out why it was made. How they got Trey and Matt to make it. How they got all those people to participate. And what it was used for.

Universal Insider Part 1

Universal Insider Part 2

Still funny. Smirkle. (Smirk + Giggle)

Ack Tongue Baby

I've had a plant for a few years that I've managed to keep going against all odds. Sadly, anything I touch is ultimately doomed and it appears that my plant has had its day in the indirect sun. I'll keep it till it's completely brown -- perhaps even black. It's the very least I can do.

This is not an invitation to buy me some new plants for X'mas. I promise, if you give me anything that is alive, I will be its death sentence. I am the grim reaper.

I've been managing to get some work done. Turns out the way for me to be productive is to lock myself up for days on end without any human contact. I may be poor company, but I'm determined to make my deadlines, goddamn it.

I surrender to the fact that now is not a fun time for me. Work is not fun. Uncertainty is not fun. There are at least 11,000 members of the Writers Guild of America and I'm pretty sure that most of them are having more fun than me right now.

December, Twenty Oh-Six. I've had a good year. The kind of year I've been wanting for forever. I have surpassed almost all of my career expectations for this year. But Twenty Oh-Seven is going to be the bitch. That's when I find out if my flying-machine can really fly. Or if I'm fucked.

Place your bets...

Steam

Nothing like getting derailed.

Not gonna talk about "it" here. Dealing with it.

Can't let it get me down.

Can't use it as an excuse to not do things.

All I have to do -- my whole life -- is writing. That's everything I need to do right now. The stories might be absurd but they're not meaningless and I've got to write them out. The writing is going to save me. I can handle the writing. I've done it my whole life. And now, it's all I've got in the world.

Cruelest Place on Earth

When I've got a bit more time and I'm feeling more charitable, I'll put together a more involved entry recounting my little vacation. But for now, while it's still fresh, I'd like to document the saddest thing I've ever witnessed in my life. I saw it on the last day of our trip to Disney World, at a Winnie the Pooh Buffet where families could stuff their faces and take pictures with characters from the Hundred Acre Wood...

I spotted her almost immediately, as we waited to enter the eatery. Large woman. That in and of itself didn't stand out because I'd noticed an inordinate number of plus-size people at the Magic Kingdom. But in addition to her size, this woman had done an awful job of applying makeup to her face. A pasty white base, bright rouge highlights on the cheeks, blue splotches for eyelids and lipstick as bright as Christmas ornaments. The woman looked like a clown and I commented on it to Codename JGoose as the lady walked by us...

We ended up sitting at the table next to the woman. I had assumed she was there with her family, but it gradually became obvious that she was there alone. She had waiters take pictures of her with the various Pooh characters that made the rounds. Pooh himself. Eeyore. Piglet (who she bore a remarkable resemblance to -- though somehow even larger than the character in the suit).

She had them all sign a birthday card for her. Turns out, it was her 40th birthday. And she had come to Disney World to celebrate it. Alone. 150 pounds overweight. In Joker makeup.

Let me clarify, JGoose and Merillon did NOT find this anywhere near as amusing as I did. Let me also clarify, I only found it amusing in that it was by far the saddest real life thing I had ever witnessed first-hand. (And I've seen peasants in the Philippines willing to fall off the side of a mountain to catch the loose change from tourists.)

JGoose wanted to invite her to eat with us. JGoose has a very good heart. (For the record, I had essentially forced JGoose and Merillon to take me to Disney World and Universal Studios.) Thankfully, we decided to keep our party-of-three separate from this woman's party-of-one.

Yes, I can be mean. And sure, I might *occasionally* say mean things about other people. But once in a while, you encounter a scene that's so sad, it's beyond ridicule. Sad to me, anyway. The woman wasn't weeping into her birthday cupcake. She seemed chipper, happy to be there, which just seemed to make me sadder. I just imagined what kind of hell this woman must have gone through in her life, such that going to Disney World alone on her 40th birthday seemed like a good idea. I went so I could ride Space Mountain a million times. Why did she go? So she could conjure up some memories of a happier time when she was a child...?

All right. This blog's black enough as it is, and I just got some bad news I won't write about here. Let's try not to dwell on the macabre. I'll write some more when I'm in better spirits...

Happiest Place on Earth

Look who's back.

Update tomorrow, maybe. Bedways is rightways now...

A Denial, A Denial, A Denial...

All right, time for a confession...

If I seem particularly unreachable for a few days (typically, no one's trying to reach me, but assuming anyone were), it's because I'm taking a trip to The Happiest Place on Earth. Malice is setting out to ruin every child's fondest dreams.

This represents Phase Two of Misanthropy Central.

"But MALICE! Isn't that place for the baby kids and the like gays?"

Wendy. Darling. Light of my life. Now, we're going to make a new rule. When you come in here and hear me typing, or whether you DON'T hear me typing, or whatever the FUCK you hear me doing -- when I'm in here, it means that I'm working: THAT means don't come in. Now why don't you start right now and get the fuck out of here...?

A'right whatever. I just need to get outta the city for a few days. Screw you guys, I'm outta here! Laptop's withmeh, I'll be writing...