The More things Change

On Christmas night, 1996, someone murdered a little six-year old girl named Jon-Benet Ramsey in Boulder Colorado.

That person remains at large.

Jon-Benet's mommy, Patsy Ramsey, died earlier this week due to a cancer which had been in remission before the murder, and before the slanderous and viscious media campaign and the wanton incompetence of the Boulder law enforcement and justice system branded her a murderess.

Patsy will be laid to rest next to her daugher in an Atlanta cemetary.  I pray they both rest in peace. 

The inconceivable torment of being judged and convicted by a sensationalist media is not unique to Patsy Ramsey.  Just ask current Seattle resident, the former Lindy Chamberlain, whose infamous treatment at the hands of an out of control media frenzy became the subject of the film A Cry in the Dark.  The Chamberlains were camping near Ayers Rock in Australia in 1980 when their 9 week old daughter was abducted by a dingo, a wild dog native to Australia.  As rumor and innuendo grew, media speculation about whether the Chamberlains were guilty of infantacide grew proportionately.  At last, the Chamberlains were prosecuted and found guilty.  It took a number of years for them to vindicate themselves and prove themselves innocent of their daughter's death.

Both Patsy Ramsey and Lindy Chamberlain were convicted by a scurrilous combination of rumor mill and witch hunt.  It is a peculiar thing about human society.  Every now and then we need a good witch hunt.  That is not to say that there haven't been mothers who have killed their children--there certainly have.  Susan Smith, Diane Downs and Andrea Yates are the most notorious, but there certainly are many, many more. 

But with Ramsey and Chamberlain the facts just didn't add up.  It took the cold light of science through dispassionate, unbiased investigation to correct the injustice by a wildly speculative rumor machine.  For some reason in these cases, as with others, the rumors were more interesting and entertaining than the facts.  Justice demands we treat every accused with the presumption of innocence. 

Ashamed to be an Iowan

Today I'm ashamed to have been born in Iowa.  It is a grand state full of literate, sensitive people.  Except for one--US Representative Steven King. 

King was instrumental in stripping a House Bill (H.R. 5576) which would have financially benefitted the LAGLC, the largest urban gay resource center in the United States.  You can click on this link: LAGLC, to see the people that Steven King, the bigot (not the author, who with one openly gay child, is a good friend to the gay community) is so damned afraid of.

LAGLC provides AIDs assistance and prevention services, mental health services, and employment counseling.  Apparently, for representative King the only good gays are those who are either (1) dead, or (2) acutely depressed and chronically unemployed.  If this had been a center that provided services to any other class or group of people, King's constituents would have seen the bigotry for precisely what it is.

Reprehensible.  I call on all of my Iowa friends and relatives to oppose this mean spirited and dangerous person the next time he is up for reelection.

Poor Poet

Poor Poetby Robert W Service

'A man should write to please himself,'
         He proudly said.
Well, see his poems on the shelf,
         Dusty, unread.

When he came to my shop each day,
         So peaked and cold,
I'd sneak one of his books away
         And say 'twas sold.

And then by chance he looked below,
         And saw a stack
Of his own work,—speechless with woe
         He came not back.

I hate to think he took to drink,
         And passed away;
I have not heard of him a word
         Unto this day.

A man must write to please himself,
         Of all it's true;
But happy they who spurning self—
         Please people too.

Not in the Mood

I'm not in the mood to blog, so I shall. 

Gurney Halleck (from David Lynch's Dune): "Moods are for cattle and loveplay, not for fighting!"  But my mood is marred by running out of my anti-depressant.  I've been five days without and I'm in profound withdrawal.  I never expected this!  I feel completely wired, as though from speed or way too much coffee.  I have bizarre flashes like electric shocks, and moments of inexplicable rage.  But my neighborhood pharmacist has kindly provided me with three days worth (which is by law all he can provide me with, sans Dr. communication) and I've taken my dose for today and so hopefully things will return to normal soon...

Jared Leto now claims that it was all a joke.  He's the joke.  What a pathetic attempt at free publicity.  What a jerk.  He probably is gay, but now nobody will ever care again.  Asswipe.

I'm wanting to do some graphic arts.  I recently bought this great new artists pen from Rotring.  Sounds like a venereal disease, but it's a fine arts manufacturer in Germany.  "Rot" auf Deutsch means "red".  Ring, I believe, has the same meaning in both languages.  So "red ring" which may be a reference to a target?  Dunno.  Anyway, I have a desire to do some portraiture in ink--stark black and white--with a decidedly gothic bent: I envision portraits of Lizst, Wagner, Poe, Lovecraft and Oates.  If/when I accomplish this, I'll post results here, as well as on my Deviant Arts site.  (I'm not posting a link because my gallery is currently <empty>.

Here's a little toot of my horn: My novel A Diamond in the Ashes (currently unpublished) made the final round of judging for the Pacific Northwest Writer's Conference Literary Contest.  It's a mixed blessing.  On the other hand, my novel After the Fire did not.  And I consider After the Fire by far the superior work.  So I'll be interested to look at the critiques.  Perhaps my judgment of my own work is severely flawed. 

Maybe I have to stop considering myself a literary artist and just write fantasy and gothic horror and be done with it.  Maybe I'm over reaching.  Maybe I have to learn how to tell a story first before I try more sophisticated subject matter, tone and style.

Finally, I had a letter published in the Seattle Times (scroll down to the very bottom).  It's a funny ha-ha one-liner that they love to publish from time to time.  Still, it was a concept that would occur to any fan of Star Wars so I knew that I should submit as soon as I could.  And voila!  In print.

A little background--Tim Eyman was the personality behind the referendum to vote on (and presumably repeal) the recent gay rights bill passed by the Washington State legislature.  He showed up in Olympia Monday dressed as Darth Vader to announce his failure to garner enough signatures to get the referendum on the November ballot.

The thought did occur to me that Eyman may have hijacked the referendum effort from the evangelical Christians who started it in order to impose his own political gravitas and then sabotage the entire effort  In which case, gay Washingtonians owe him a debt of gratitude.  But since that was too cynical by half, I decided to go for direct ridicule.

And that may be the problem with my fiction--I don't utilize the more accessible meat.

Jared Leto Comes OUT!

Jared Leto just came out of the closet on AOL.  Click here to read the interview.  There's also a nice picture of Jared looking smoulderingly sexy ala Charlize Theron in Aeon Flux.  Jared's always been a fave of mine.  Loved him in the wonderful Requiem for a Dream.  Fantastic acting from the whole cast, especially Oscar laureates Ellen Burstyn and Jennifer Connolly.  Marlon Wayans gives an excellent dramatic performance.  He's usually over the top goofy so this was quite a stretch for him.  Maybe not.  Dying is easy.  Comedy is hard. 

Jared has been in so many good films: Fight Club, The Thin Red Line, Girl Interrupted.  My personal favorite is Highway, a buddy, on the road, crime thriller costarring studly Jake Gyllenhaal.  I'm so happy for Jared.  But reading his bio at the IMDB, it must be a little embarrassing in retrospect, being connected to Cameron Diaz (engaged from 2000 to 2002).  You know, that says something.  It puts Ms. Diaz' sexuality in doubt, and most certainly Justin Timberlake's.  Well, we'll just have to see, won't we?  Hollywood: the place of plastic dreams.

I am DYING!

... for a cup of coffee, that is...

Sorry faithful readers, you know who you are, but I've been lax in my blogging commitment and ambition.

All reasonable people could care less what I put inside my body, but allow me the luxury of telling you that I've spent the past two and a half weeks on a detox program, hence the subject-line of this blog entry. 

Originally I was motivated to do this process years ago when I was an actor at the Idaho Shakespeare Festival.  As an actor I always make friends with the costume department because I know what side my toast is buttered on (though buttered toast is strictly a no-no on this detox program).  How far will he go for a joke you may ask yourself?  Until the setup creaks and groans like a top-heavy seige engine and the payoff simply negligable.  But be that as it may, I had this friend in the costume department.  After the shows went into production I saw nothing of her for a couple of weeks--maybe a month.  This is only to be expected in the theater.  But when I did see her again, several weeks later, what a profound change had occurred!  She was lean, tanned, and fit, she seemed solid, centered, and glowing!  I said, "What happened to you?  You're a babe!" 

After frowning a bit and deciding to take it as a compliment, she replied, "I did a detox."  My brow furrowing, I said, "What's that?"

And she proceeded to tell me that it was a program of diet, vitamins and exercise that is designed to help the body cleanse itself of vile impurities which we either can't digest, or that we can't sweat out, or poop out.  Pardon my Francais. 

So, I've had that lurking in the back of my mind for almost 10 years.  Then, three weeks ago my Dr. called me to say that my lipids and blood sugars were higher than ever.  I was up to 320 pounds, and that I needed to make some drastic changes.  I figured that a detox program might be a way to jump-start a new way of living (and eating). 

The truth of the matter is, I eat to manage and control my feelings.  That is the same reason why I drank, why I smoked, why I do almost anything pleasurable.  Not to experience pleasure--but to control it, to control anxiety, frustration, irritability, and a host of other uncomfortable sensations, including BAD MEMORIES.

Sometimes that's bad or stupid or ignorant things I've done to others, sometimes it's the torment others have foisted upon me and the impotent rage I feel as a result.

I have a feeling some of you out there are nodding your heads.... I hope I'm not alone in this.  If I am, Baby Jesus (PBUH) help me, because my next stop will have to be a cave in the desert.

So, casting aside all tangents, I've now been without sugar, caffeine, wheat, dairy, red meat, tomatoes (although I cheat on that one), corn for 2.5 weeks.  I have until next Wednesday.  But today, I don't know why, I have an incredibly POWERFUL CRAVING for a cuppa joe.  Ohh, the scalding bitter darkness of it, and the feelings of wellbeing and sensation of pleasure that results.  I can feel it on my tongue.  I can taste it.  I can recall the joy and satisfaction it brings. 

On the otherhand, my gut, which as lately begun to sound like the percussion section of the Seattle Symphony Orchestra has fallen quiescent.  The blows and gales which emanated from my southern port have becalmed themselves.  I can breathe easier.  I sweat less.  I feel stronger in my joints.

But I lack.  I LACK.  I've nothing left with which to sublimate my anxiety.  So I crave.  I shall try to withstand.  But what harm would one cup of coffee do?  It would deprive me of  being able to say I went three weeks without it!  These aren't withdrawal symptoms.  I had those two weeks ago.  These are cravings.  And I must perservere because they will pass.  I gave up nicotine in 1986.  My experience then is similar to what it is now.  Cravings pass and sometimes give way to feelings of euphoria. 

But right now, it can't happen soon enough!!

Writing Texts

For my Polishing the Character Based Novel III class, I've been reading two books on writing the post-modern way: Writing the Breakout Novel by Donald Maass and Story, by Robert McKee.  The Maass book is chock full of inside industry tips and advice, and Maass' primary thrust is tension.  Tension through public and personal stakes, through conflict and through both text and subtext.  The McKee book speaks eloquently about "forces of antagonism," and states that what separates the mediocre from the brilliant is how far the writer is willing to go in exploring the forces of antagonism in his story.

Both books deconstruct popular works in order to give numerous examples of the principles their authors espouse.  I really enjoyed both books but whereas the Maass book made me feel somewhat foolish for even attempting to write a novel (let alone two) McKee's book restored my faith in my own project.  That is not to say that the Maass book was bad, on the contrary, it challenged me.  The McKee book also challenged me but as I read it in the context of my own project, I was delighted to see how many of his principles I had intuitively employed.