survival of the wittiest

zombie post apocalypse scenario #55.

yep. some terrible flesh eating mutant virus has taken over planet earth. the  humans that remain are walking shitbags of a rabies like cannibal inducing disease. four people have survived. their descriptions are as follows; one small girl, 13. a small woman ,25. young man skinny, 30. and tubby mcdaniels, the resident elder. hes prob weighing in at 220 and has a 40 inch waist. (size is an important factor for this exercise).  all  are in relatively good health and mental state considering their moms and dads just tried to eat their legs for breakfast and the world has ended as they know it. mode of transportation:  a  comfortable sedan for four. destination: unknown. but lets guess up to 2000 miles.  gas+food+lodging are scare as all hell. the four come across a gasoline tanker in an empty lot. they stop to refuel.  tubby mcdaniels siphons gas into a canister. once its full they all  get back into the sedan and keep driving, leaving the tanker behind.

question a) what is wrong with this scenario?

question b) what should the party have done to better ensure their survival?

the scene i just described is from the movie “28 days later”. now why the 3 capable  adults couldnt figure out to drive the tanker with them or drive the tanker instead of the sedan (ya’ll would have fit as determined by their physical descriptions) when gas refueling options are non existent is beyond me. (even if tanker is diesel and theres a compatability prob at least the plot could have addressed this.)  this judgement in error is the difference between having a movie that keeps me fully involved and invested in the characters because their acumen is worth giving 2 hours to, or having movie characters that seem to keep “hacking it” with the dullest knives in the drawer… in some cases, movie characters  make such poor choices I hope they die as quickly as possible.  why wait for them to bumble to the end? exhibit b:  the main character in “blink”, played by madeline stowe. just saw that on sunday. spoiler alert.  she plays a “strong” “resilient” woman who can “survive on her own”, is “super smart” and “aint taking shit from anybody”. the hero guy in the movie assaults her twice and she still has sex with him. each time. ummm. no. a  vicious killer breaks into her house, stalks her, etc and she still decides she doesnt need police protection in the middle of a rainy night in an unknown desolate part of town. ummm. no. as ive b een saying for a while. “we gots to do better” for our characters. and our audience.

arlight. thats it for today.

actuallly heres what i was originally going to write:

much to the delight of art lovers everwhere  i havent posted a writing blog in a long time. ive been very quiet lately in my blog and personal life. have no interest in calling or seeing anyone. or sharing my thoughts. and im totally ok with that. wondering how long the quiet phaze will last.  the end.

good night.

love ,

odie mama. and odie. (he wishes for smarter characters in his movies as well)

sci fi surrealistic! (episode I)

killian eng is an amazing surrealistic sci-fi artist from sweden (est. 1982). he uses computer graphics to enhance his wonderful illustration and drawing skill set.  i simply love his choice of perspective, color, and light. his art is infused with  the hyperreaslitic tension, emotion, and spirituality of the future-world environment/dimension. enjoy.

hallway of the future. ominous yet irrisistably inviting.
intricate detail and colorwork. and i love the symboled border. killian definitely needs to illustrate a tarot card deck series.
this eye is a window and a doorway to the soul of some distant future. unfortunately for the guy who's hiding, that soul is embodied in a 50 ft woman.
this illustration is titled "collapse" (named after the song on an album killian illustrated). the bean bag of the future. has armrests.
the jungle. amazing detail. i love the levels and layers and colors of this illustration.
meeting your maker
masked enforcer.
fleeing man versus machine men. who's gonna win?
fall. into the future. of your own destruction.
a call to alms. one of four prayer depictions by killian eng. (more to come)
sunrise confessions. an illustration from the Caotico album. has an egyptian ark kind of feel. i like.

killian has so much good stuff. im going to post more tomorrow.

have a great sci fi kind of night.

love,

odie mama.

and of course, odie.

beatri (x) (ce)?

top of the morning to you! my hair looks like mozarts wig. after the concert. thats what  happens when you have super duper curls and take a shower right before bed. instant dreadlocks. its not the 60’s so i didnt do an updo or some hair cap contraption to prevent this.  i just let the afro flow upon the pillow. all night.  today itll take me 30 minutes to comb out the dreads. before they set for real.

all the same im glad i didnt use that toxic hair straightening treatment i mentioned not using before. though the plus of that being you dont have to worry much about combing your hair straight when youre bald. the only plus.

its a hell of a morning for my brain as well. it feels like scrambled eggs, mess hall style. the uncooked, semi-runny kind that just slip out of the serving spoon and slop down on your buffet tray and ooze. (my favorite kind :). my IQs down an additional 50 points at least. how many points does that leave me with? this ny municipal tap is killing my cells…so’s the chinese food diet. but it tastes so good.

moving on and trying to make sense with whats left:  ive made good progress with the play. scene two is done. the core. theres a smaller end ing scene i think id like to included, even if it gets cut out in the final version… its too funny not to give it a try at inclusion. and  its the first time the mom comes under pressure to reveal something truly personal about herself, which shes always reluctant to do. its amazing to see her dodge and dance the hammer.

the first scene also has a denoument and then another exciting cataclysmic conflict build before it ends. just like scene deux. i wonder if the audience will like this style that im writing in or if theyll feel like the scenes are overlong. overlong play scenes = boredome=death of a playwright. fuck the salesman.

did anyone else find that play, the most admired play in the world, to be a sad depressing one way journey into the land of caca. sure it was great writing character reveal etc., but what a sad depressingly hopeless story. about a character with no character arc. about unimitigated failure. i need my characters to want to live. to recognize mistakes. to want to get better. to apologize. and maybe even kick some major ass along the way.  i cant sit for two hours and see someone go straight downhill. thats so 1950.

lets return to 2012. which is looking like 2013 at the rate im writing…

ive also plugged the plot hole with nunez’s saint name. i think its going to be beatrice but with an ‘x’ at the end. beatrice was dantes muse. beatrix,  is the nun version. the dante reference is important. shes the light out of his darkness of hell. nunez is the light for the mom in this same way. and beatrix fits the requirements of being unusual. foreign. and a hard name to say which all plays perfectly into the name/nickname scene ive spent days crafting.

beatrice. beatrix.

there is a saint by the name beatrix. actually two? perhaps more. ive only dont light research so far. the first beatrix was roman and died approx 300 ad. she is not included in the traditional roman calendar of saints, but that doesnt mean shes not fit for  inclusion in the play. as tim gunn says. make it work. poor beatrix  was hanged for helping persecuted christians. the rope is her symbol.  the second beatrix is carthusian nun. died around 1820. known for her passion she impaled her left hand to understand christs pain.

these two historic nuns alone with the priceless dante reference makes the name perfect i think. of course the mom only knows about the dante beatrice at first. but that connection is the most important aspect of the name. “if the name fits you must awrit.”

did any of what i just wrote make sense? oh well. im leaving it. ive got to return to playville.

i have a feeling im going to need someone from the order to go over the details of this play to make sure its factually sound and somewhat plausible.

alright. gotta go.

its play time!

love,

odie mama.

and odie….hes off eating his new brand of cat food that he loves. so happy!

N.B. since its sci fi week i should tie this post in with a sci fi reference. and here it is. the name Beatrice was lifted from a passage in Hyperion. is this book not the stuff of my literary dreams or what?!!!

excerpts

hey guys. lifes roses are bloooming for me again. Im reading an amazing book by dan simmons. hyperion. sci fi. 1989. boy, does this man know how to write. hes brilliant!  the work is funny, insightful. detailed. imaginative. as a writer and craftsman he’s got it all. wish i could suck the genius from his brain and implant it into mine. (thats prob something that could happen in the world of his novel). though its set in the year 3000 a.d. he uses a lot of “old” earth (circa 1990-2020) references and some of his quotes are magically potent for the you and i of today. ill share some with you.

“to be a poet, i realized, a true poet, was to become the Avatar of humanity incarnate; to accept the mantle of poet is to carry the cross of the Son of Man, to suffer the birth pangs of the Soul-Mother of Humanity. To be a true poet is to become God.”

“Belief in one’s identity as a poet or writer prior to the acid test of publication is as naive and harmless as the youthful belief in one’s immortality….and the inevitable disillusionment is just as painful.”

“[after working] ten standard months [on the novel] i was done, acknowledged the ancient aphorism to the effect that no book or poem is ever finished, merely abandoned.

“In the beginning was the Word. Then came the fucking word processor. Then came the thought processor. Then came the death of literature. And so it goes.”

this last quote reminds of the downgrade/transistion from facebook to instagram. its a great purchase for facebook. theyve realized what i found out the hard way through blogging. not nearly as many people give a fuck about the written word as they do about pictures, wordless easily digestible images. less effort in. less effort out. easier to push the like button on.

in the post-Instagram future people will just post a numbered code or corresponding color to express mood. or a machine will sense the mood and post it for you. youll also be able to rig the machine to if youre sad it will still tell the world youre having the time of your fucking amazing life!

Im also going to share a later passage from the same section. the protagonist is a writer whose first book was extremely successful. he hands a manuscript for his second novel to his editor/publisher  named Tyrena. its epic poetry. completely different from his first work. he wants to know what she thinks and goes to see her in her office…this is the exchange.

“what do you think?” I asked Tyrena as she read through the first copy.

Her eyes were blank, bronze disks in that week’s fashion, but this did not hide that fact that there were tears there. She brushed one away. “it’s beautiful,” she said.

“I tried to rediscover the voice of some of the Ancients,” I said, suddenly shy.

“You succeeded brilliantly.”

“the Heaven’s Gate Interlude is still rough,” I said.

“It’s perfect.”

“It’s about loneliness,” I said.

“It is loneliness.”

“Do you think its ready?” I asked.

“It’s perfect . . . a masterpiece.”

“Do you think it’ll sell?” I asked.

“No fucking way.”

just like writing in todays world. ive learned a lot from him. thanks dan. im looking forward to continuing my education through your other novels. :)

love,

odie mama.

im just visiting.

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints.  We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time.  We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.  We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.  We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life not life to years.  We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor.  We conquered outer space but not inner space.  We’ve done larger things, but not better things.

We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We’ve conquered the atom, but not our prejudice.  We write more, but learn less.  We plan more, but accomplish less.  We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait.  We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships.

These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes.  These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill.  It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom.  A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete…

Remember, to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.  Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn’t cost a cent.

Remember, to say, “I love you” to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it.  A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person might not be there again.  Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.” <—————-

notice the quote mark at the end…yeah. i didnt write this. im just visiting..its a quote from bob moorehead. originally i was going to steal this like any other great author but then i thought better about it and decided to borrow it. and soemtimes thats ok. thanks bob!

what wisdom in his words. and what a great way to write it. it was so spiritual and grounded that I actually thought it was a quote from the dalai lama at first read. and while i dont agree  with bob that we’ve cleaned up the air, i do agree with everything else. and so im glad i got to share it here with you.

ok. one more confession. I didnt even find this quote all by myself. i borrowed it  from a friend who in turn copied it from a great website of great quotes and emailed it to me. he knows  that ive been super contemplative this past few weeks and wanted to bring me perspective. now this leads me to wonder where he got all the quotes from. he has yet to fill me in on  the source, but when he does ill share it with you. all i do know is that he sent me a lot of good material. and i was able to sneak around a bit and find a few more on my won. so for todays blog im going to share other peoples quotes. if they said it better why not just borrow it…

and now a short one..

“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.”

― Maya Angelou

this reminds me of what ive been writing about lately in my blogs. that undiscussed aspect of the work behind splendor and beauty and achievement.. there’s great effort put into things that look so effortless in their perfection.

and now for this:

“When I was a child, adults would tell me not to make things up, warning me of what would happen if I did. As far as I can tell so far, it seems to involve lots of foreign travel and not having to get up too early in the morning.”

―    Neil Gaiman,    Smoke and Mirrors

when i first read this i didnt understand it was about writing. because i dont know neil gaiman. my friend kindly cleared this up for me. i guess its more about being a successful writer and what that lifestyle means. this is the what a writers “butterfly life” looks like.

heres another quote from neil. this one however is clearly about the writing process. the larval stages.. the development process can be shear hell. all writers understand this…

“People talk about books that write themselves, and it’s a lie.  Books don’t write themselves.  It takes thought and research and backache and notes and more time and more work than you’d believe.”  ―    Neil Gaiman,    Smoke and Mirrors

and in terms of where ideas come from: the magic behind this. gods hand in creating the beauty of the finished butterfly is irrationally magnificent.

Confluence.  Things come together.  The right ingredients and suddenly: Abracadabra!”  ―    Neil Gaiman,    Smoke and Mirrors

and some funny lines that are part of the finished process…i love this quote. clever, unique writing..

I saw her chewing gum, when I was thirteen, and I fell for her like a suicide from a bridge.”  ―    Neil Gaiman,    Smoke and Mirrors

alrighty everyone.

going to bed.

i actually got out of the house, met a friend, and had a tropical cocktail in  a makeshift tiki hut where there was sand on the bar floor in brooklyn of all places!. theres so much great stuff out there that ive been missing. it was really cool. and my drink had an orange slice, a little blue umbrella, and two straws, one with a fake tropical flower. i was in heaven. rum, blue curacao, pineapple, and soda. and ten gallons tall. delish. i kept the straw!

funny because last week i was blogging about not being able to sit back and have a nice relaxing tropical cocktail with the funny umbrella! the gods must have heard me.

alright for real this time.

a very relaxed, much happier.

odie mama.