wednes: (Peanut Butter/Jelly)
Been thinking in the shift in how I spend my time online. As it happens, I'm on Facebook more than anywhere else. That's not necessarily how I want it; it's just where everyone is. I still pop by DW/LJ, and I hit up Google+ mainly to wait for people to show up. I haven't figured out how to get a decent feed that shows posts in chronological order. That might help. I don't like that I can't go back and find Facebook conversations I had a month ago. I don't like how much information I'm entering but have absolutely no control over. I can't put my finger on my fear--since I'm not really hiding anything from anyone. I just have a feeling that all this sharing is going to come back to bite me later, and I'll wonder how the hell I ever could have been so stupid and naive. After all, humanity is always coming up with new and terrifying ways to exploit the vulnerable for profit.

Watched both parts of Appropriate Adult, the BBC movie about Fred and Rosemary West. As far as I know, I've read or watched all available material on this case. Godawful parents are a speciality of mine. This movie didn't come close to the true horror of the case, the family, the crimes, the victims. Emily Watson, the chick from Red Dragon, was the main character, as some sort of civilian helper for criminals--some kind of barely trained social worker I guess. She was great in it, but the movie itself was just a big dud. It implied that all sorts of facts about the case weren't known--stuff I'd already read about years ago. I don't get it, and I didn't like it.
The most striking thing to me was the treatment of the main characters partner (live-in bloke but not married). He was bi-polar and went off his meds. So the MC calls an ambulance and says "My partner's bi polar and has gone off his meds. He's having a manic episode." So the ambulance picks him up, takes him to a nice hospital where he has a private room. He stays there until he's better. And when he gets out, his job is waiting for him with no reprimand or judgement whatsoever. He starts taking his meds again, and everyone moves on. As an American, that knocks me on my ass. How much healthier would our country be on the whole if we had such a reasonable attitude about helping the mentally ill? How many less people would be in prison? How many less drug addicts who deteriorate slowly over years of dysfunction and unhappiness? What am I saying? If Facebook is any indication, people can't even agree that gay people should be allowed to be gay--let alone that people are still worthy of dignity even though they're mentally odd.

Scaling back on everything but The Finster Effect, as I am in the home stretch. No more freelancing for a bit. May even skip a podcast, we shall see. TFE is shaping up nicely, just like I keep saying.

New TV season starts soon. Yay! This season, I'll be watching
(or at least saving to the DVR or catching On Demand):
Criminal Minds
Dexter
Boardwalk Empire
The Walking Dead (I know...I can't resist)
Person of Interest
Sunday night FOX
and we'll probably keep going with Falling Skies whenever that comes back, midseason I'd guess. H also wants to start downloading Fringe.

Sleep Study on Wednesday. They were supposed to send me some paperwork that still hasn't arrived. I called, and they sent me a link to download it, saying that it often doesn't arrive until the day before. Front page, it says you have to give 48 hours notice to cancel (everywhere else on earth it's 24 hours). If you don't, they charge you $200 out of pocket. Fine, fair enough. But if that's the case, shouldn't they be telling you that within 48 hours of your appointment? *sigh* As my great-grandpa used to say That's how they gitcha!

New Zombie Zone News interview is up. This week: James L Grant. Some of you local types may know him as [personal profile] flemco. He's what my mom would call "mouthy," which made for a great interview.
wednes: (Stabby Rage)
Just like to make a general announcement that the person who sends me a copy of Appropriate Adult, BBC's made-for-TV movie about Fred and Rosemary West will receive a bounty of gifts superior to anything they could possibly imagine. You guys like candy and signed books, right?
;-]

That story is freaky as shit, and a nice reminder for ME that I didn't have the craziest, most secretly fucked up family in the world. The BBC does not tend to fuck around.
This movie is gonna be amazing--far superior to any overhyped sensationalized American shit WE would have come up with on the off chance that we'd even touch a story like that. Apparently, the BBC cast just the right guy to play Fred.

And I want it. Want. Want. Want.

Fabulous prizes await the first person to send me a clean copy that I can play on an American DVD player.
wednes: (Ouija)
To counteract my annoyance, short temperedness, and irritation of the last week, the following things will be written so as to emphasis the positive:

--West Memphis Three: FREED!!!

--Shrimp Satay for dinner at the day job.

--Clearing the air on unfortunate situation from earlier in the week.

--JoJo not covering my new chair with any bodily excretions...yet.

--Fright Night remake opens today. I'm totally going (despite still not seeing the new Planet of the Apes). I just adore it when David Tennant takes his shirt off. I mean, he's no James Purefoy, but he's pretty spicy for a British guy.

--Daily Show and Colbert on vacation for two weeks. This means extra sleep since I won't be staying up until midnight on work nights.

--Applied for a few jobs. Might even get some (jobs, I mean).

--Planning a weekend full of productivity and article writing.
wednes: (Default)
My brother, Mark came over for dinner today. I made a big stir-fry that turned out really delicious. The cheesecake brownies were delicious too and I sent him home with a couple of sizable ones. I'm starting to sound like one of those grandmotherly-types that keeps telling people to eat, and wants to send them home with big Tupperwares full of food. Not that I have any actual Tupperware. Anyway, there was food, (Bro-ham called my cooking "gourmet") trivia, great conversation. He's such a good guy. H took this awesome picture of us:

I like it very much, although I'm pretty sure having a shine on your face is one of those things chicks are supposed to feel mortified about. And just for fun, here's one of JoJo. He's once again making sure that he's the center of attention.

Not pictured: Pentelope, H.

I've been debating making a conscious choice to stop saying "Mentally ill." I don't care for the phrase, connotatively. More importantly though, I don't think it's accurate. There is no cure for a mental health diagnosis. Even a supposed cure-all like ECT (I've never had ECT, but it's one of my greatest fears in re: The Crazy) doesn't actually make you not mentally ill. Like the common cold, treatments are designed to relieve symptoms so the patient is able to function out in the world. Saying a person is "ill" all the time...forever is goddamn depressing. If I take my meds and do what I'm supposed to, I feel reasonably well most of the time. So calling me "ill" is not accurate. It's not like I'm contagious.
But what to say instead? I'm okay with the word Mental even though the connotation of that is not great in many circles. After trying and rejecting several options I'm almost ready to settle on Mentally Odd. That sounds closest to the truth to me.

My brain chemistry works differently than a lot of other people's. If I want to have a job and maintain relationships the way other people expect and deserve, I have to take pills to alter my brain chemistry. That sounds pretty simple, but socially/politcally/emotionally it opens up a whole can of worms. I know people who literally flinch at hearing the word "crazy." They view it as accusatory and derogatory. They take great offense. It *is* kind of a low-brow way to refer to someone, and when people use it seriously or "half-jokingly"--you can bet it's coming from a combination of ignorance and judgement. The word "crazy" calls to mind images of ranting lunatics in straight jackets, being led away by men in white coats. We now know that not everybody with a mental health diagnosis (verbose phrase, isn't it?) reaches anything close to that point. But some of us do, and we're not entirely comfortable with people not taking it seriously. At the same time, it *can* be pretty fucking funny.

The word "insanity," like "crazy" gets tossed around all too often. Insipid people describe themselves as crazy if they lose their car keys or space out in traffic. That is a far cry from what actual mentally-odd people go through. (Okay, I tried it out there. How'd it sound?) I almost resent people using it casually and untruthfully. I do accept that it's in the vernacular now. More importantly, when people say it, I grok that they are talking about themselves and not me. Still, it's not accurate, just hyperbole. I don't want to be one of those douches who can't take a little hyperbole without getting all Gloria Allred on everyone. ;-]

My final point on insanity today is this: Having a brain chemistry that is different from the average person is a good thing, IMO. Not that I have a choice, but now that I understand what the hell's going on with me I am able to manage it in a way that still allows for feeling the highs and lows of life. I can get to my crazy for writing, and deal with my crazy for say, going to work. And my books really are getting better and better. Like regular people, sometimes it gets to be too much. But I can deal with it, sometimes with a bit of help. I'm not ashamed to ask for help if I need it. In fact, I'm proud that I can now recognize that I need it BEFORE I've done something horrible to fuck up my life. That thing recently was a pretty close call though, I admit. Anyway--I'm not trying to jump on a "we crazy people are sooooo much deeper than you" high horse. Just saying that there are benefits to having a brain that doesn't want you to do the things you think you want to do.
Mentally odd (!) people see the world differently that so-called sane people. We often do feel things with greater intensity than the average person (I almost want to use the word severely. We feel things severely.) and with my diagnosis, dizzying highs and crippling lows. Of course, there are also crippling highs and dizzying lows--which are not as good. The ability to see things in a different way from many is why so many of us become artists of one kind of another. Once we recognize that we have this ability (people usually have to tell us, because we don't tend to realize how different we are on our own) we typically aspire to hone it. People wonder why so many great musicians, actors, etc turn to drugs, or die young, or can't make a marriage last. It's because we're fucking crazy. ;-] Mentally odd people crave the outlet, the expression, the approval--even the applause when all those noisy people aren't scaring the shit out of us. But we also have issues. Scary, scary issues. Seeing things "differently" is natural for us. It's only different when compared to the "sane." But even a differently-mentally-odd partner (damn, it's getting verbose in here again) needs someone with some level of predictability. If we want to live and be around other people, we're better off etching our message of benevolent oddness into the glorious wall of human creativity--shut up, it's a metaphor--than we are etching it into our own collective forearms.

Plus, sometimes, writing a book about murdering people reminds us how wrong it is to actually murder people.
wednes: (Default)






Enjoy, kids! And if you likes it, do tell your friends!
wednes: (Default)
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Chances are, the reason it's my dream home in the first place is because some kind of crazy murder took place there. (Is there a such a thing as a non-brutal murder???) Obviously, I would give the new digs every kind of spiritual sweeping within my power. But a murder would NOT keep me from buying a house or living there, even though I am terrified of my own shadow most of the time. A random killing might make me a little more nervous than a crime of passion, as in the Simpsons house hunting adventure where one of the houses has a chalk outline on the ground, and I'll be back!! written in blood on the wall. Let us not forget that the Manson murders at Roman Polanski's house were a case of mistaken identity.

If indeed there are upset spirits of the formerly alive wandering around trying to get justice for one thing or another--then pretty much every place would be haunted. Every hospital, every old folks home, every asylum--hell, especially every asylum. We'd have our asses haunted every time we found love, or happiness, or had children, or aquired wealth or did anything else happy that some ghost is judgmental and bitter about because they don't think they got their fair share of whatever the thing in question is. They'd never stop fucking with us, and we'd be basically powerless to do anything about it.

In the end, ghosts are probably the spiritual remains of people. Like people, some of them will be really nice, others will be complete dicks, and most will be average and boring as shit. There is the theory that if they are ghosts, than it's because they were too upset over something to travel to whatever comes next. That would suck, but it's no reason to haunt an innocent bystander. So I'll say to ghosts what I say to most people who take their bullshit out on others instead of doing the work. "Get over it. Move on already."
wednes: (Default)
Question: Why does your new novel have stabbing in it, when your last novel centered around a stabbing? Are you ever gonna branch out? Is this just more of the same? Why all that stabbing anyway? Can't you ever write something pleasant?

Answer: Heavens! I hadn't realized anyone was putting so much thought into this. Firstly, only my first novel is centered around a Stabbing. Secondly, the second book is about revenge, magic, drugs, and cats. No stabbing. Thirdly, there is much, much more than stabbing going on in this new book. Promise.

But there is a very good reason my characters stab, several in fact. Stabbing is up close and personal, it is an act of rage. You are physically thrusting something sharp into the vessel of someone you hate (or love so much you want dead--however that works out). You didn't poison their food and wait for them to eat it, you didn't point a gun in their general direction, you didn't chase them down from the comfort of your car. You didn't set up an elaborate, Law & Order inspired scheme to get them killed. Stabbing is a brutal killing done in a passionate way. It tends to be done in the heat of the moment.

Stabbing is also penetrative. Obviously there are many, many connections between sex and death. The French refer to orgasm as "the little death." Surely some of you ladies out there know that some fellas, especially young fellas wield their erection like a stabby knife. All about the old in-out, in-out and if there's also a lady nearby enjoying herself, well that's nice too. I think men are more likely to enjoy hands-on, passionate killing as opposed to women who generally are after the end result of a person being dead. I am not aware of any female killer who commits hands-on murder for the sheer enjoyment of doing so. If you's know of one, please be sure to hip me. Mary Bell is the only one I can think of, and she was a wee tot who killed just the one time. Here..

In terms of hands-on murder techniques though, I think nothing is more personal and passionate than a strangling. For one thing, it's savage, like a snake. Snakes strangle and you all know how much I loved my Dante, even when he bit me 32 times. But to be that close to someone and literally keep them from breathing with your bare hands until they die beneath you? Yikes. As a literary concept, I love it. As a weird, poetry writing teenager I loved it even more. So why haven't I used it? Well, I'm saving it for a special occasion.

As for the pleasantness, I find my books to be terrifying and disturbing in a very pleasant way.
Eye of the beholder, I guess.

Thanks for writing!
wednes: (Default)
...and which I am learning 8 times over. I've been trying to murder this character since Friday night. After some initial procrastinating, I have literally been at the keyboard for more than 10 hours total, and still have not managed to kill this girl. It's going to be a bad death, one that has some substantial impact on the story, and I just can't do it. I don't know why. The mechanics of the kill aren't falling into place--the girl's character development isn't strong enough to lead me in the right direction (another problem in and of itself). And my MC is grating on my nerves. But I'm going to do it today. I'm not due at work until 3pm tomorrow, so I'm not going to bed until she's dead.

Cartoons were awesome last night. Family Guy does Stephen King is one of the best ideas they've ever had. And the false lead in about The Shinning? Excellent! Next weekend is all the cartoon season finales. I just hope I'm back in town in time to see them. (I'm going to Clare to celebrate [livejournal.com profile] absinthofhearts birthday in case you didn't know.)

H decided he doesn't want to see Star Trek anymore. So we're not going. His rampant mind changing about movies that are getting good reviews is one of the few things H does that annoys me. We'd been planning to see it for months, now he doesn't want to. So...I need someone to go with. Truth be told though, I won't die if I have to wait for the DVD.

Season finale of LOST this week. I know I say this a lot, but 1) I hope there is a polar bear, and 2) I heart Michael Emerson.
wednes: (Default)
I have today off because I am working on Saturday this week. So far, everything is going according to my sinister plan. Got paid yesterday, going to cash my cheque tomorrow (minus what I give H for the bills). After I pay the dentist and put aside my cab monies for the next 2 weeks, I should have a small fortune leftover for my getaway weekend with [livejournal.com profile] absinthofheart to celebrate her birthday. I do so enjoy her company. This year I got her the fourth in the series of Harry Potter pens from The Noble Collection. They are boss.

In weird-ass news, a mentally ill kid from my Alma Mater seems to have murdered someone in Italy while on a school trip. Isn't that cray-zay?

In things-that-will-surely-suck news, Keanu Reeves has signed on to star in Jekyll and Hyde. I don't know about you, but I'm getting pretty sick of Keanu fucking up things I love. He fucks up Shakespeare, he almost ruined Dracula, he destroyed Day the Earth Stood Still, and now he's going to massacre Jekyll & Hyde. I guess he hasn't heard that you need ACTING ABILITY to take on such a role. It's not a fucking action mov--well, I suppose if they really wanted to fuck it up bad, they could make it one. I wouldn't put it past Hollywood to show less than no respect for such a classic and wonderful story.

So far, the Star Trek reviews are good. I'm stoked, as H and I plan to see it Tuesday night when I get off work.

I'm quite sick of hearing about the bible thumping, fake boob getting, pageant losing, prejudice spokesmodel Miss California. Like "Joe the Plumber" I'm at a loss for why anyone gives a rat's ass what these people think. They are not learned, well spoken, or particularly well informed. So why are they in every third news story?

As for me, I'm going to kill off a character today, and get some things summed up.
And for anyone who was paying attention, it appears that I did not make any kind of stir whatsoever at the Ippy Awards. Bummer.
wednes: (Default)
I shouldn't complain as I only have to work one Saturday a month, but MAN it's such a drag. It's so slow that people mostly just eat and dick around on the computer all day. I'm wearing a T-shirt to work, since we're allowed to do that on Saturday, and I ate a donut for breakfast because there was a Tim Horton's run. Wow, this post is shaping up to be supremely boring.

I've been reading about how Wal*Mart is warning their people that the company might shut down or something unless McCain is elected. Apparently the Dems want to make it easier to form *gasp* unions, which would wipe out a company like Walmart who profits mainly from running out small busineses and treating their employees like indentured servants. I've had some really shitty jobs in my day, but I've never been locked in a store at night, or denied health benefits. Although I have worked jobs where 24 hours a week is considered full-time.

Speaking of the election, this is another one of those situations where I can't imagine anyone in their right mind voting for The Reds (by which I mean the Republicans). The thought of Obama in office gives me hope, as trite as that sounds. I'd like for America to be more than a war mongering, oil guzzling, american idol watching laughing stock. Like the last two elections, I'm really going to be disappointed in people when they vote for McCain. I wish I could figure a way to be more tolerant, but right now I don't think I can...

So...what are you all doing for your "Staycation" this summer.
I don't know what I'll be doing yet, maybe finding out if there's an age limit at the Youth Hostel in Washington DC. I stayed there once in college, but I don't know if 37 is too old to stay there again. I'd like to pop in and visit my cousin Kathi if I can stand to be on a Greyhound for that long.
Speaking of which, did you hear about the guy who got decapitated by another guy with a hunting knife? It was on a Greyhound, in CANADA. I didn't realize things like that happened in Canada.
wednes: (Default)
Sitting here watching the first ever interview (for me, at least) with Ron DeFeo, I am again fascinated with the way different killers deal with the crimes they committed. There seem to be three basic types: The Proud, The Penitent, and The Longest River in Egypt. DeFeo appears to be in this latter catagory, along with greats like Manson, Bundy, and sometimes Berkowitz. So far this interview is a heapin' helping of here's what I think happened... followed by some tripe about his sister doing the killings. He has that Charliesque "You don't underSTAND MAN!!" attitude that pretty much defines this old vaudvillian era of mass murders and serial killers.

In case you're wondering, "Proud" killlers are those totally unapologetic about thier crimes. Arthur Shawcross, Henry Lee Lucas, Albert Fish, HH Holmes, and (sometimes) Berkowitz are examples of this. Penintent types include Dahmer, Aileen Wournos, Ed Gein...and sometimes Berkowitz. Anyway, this DeFeo is a huge, crazy liar and this interview is lame. Oh wait, he said his sister did it. Then later, he said his father hit him and his mother cheered him on so that's when he decided to kill them both. Maybe later it will be an assisted suicide *snerk*.

In other news, I'm getting really sick of the story about the naked proposing guy getting chased by the armed army drill sargent. I'm posting about it in the hopes that it will finally go away. Although those stupid fairy doors are still every damn where.

Since my job prospects are even lower that usual lately, I'm taking a stab at the JulNoWriMo because I can't seem to keep to a schedule unless I can chat about it with strangers. And since the WriYear people can kiss my ass, this will have to do.

One of my favorite hobbies is psychoanalyzing everyone I know. I like to determine what is "wrong" with everyone, and if possible, how that came to pass. So if I know you, and I've met your parents, watch out! It seems that the good people at The Onion enjoy that as well. So here, several days after it's release, here is this funny thing about America.

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