... I have begun to work on a screenplay involving an actual real actor. I have just written the opening of a screenplay which would feature Anna Paquin as herself. This originates with the fact that I have the same birthday as her, and it kind of went crazy following a conversation I had with the other Jef in my screenwriting class.
On a vaguely related note, I really like this little scene for which I stole my stepbrother's name.
INT. BEDROOM -- LATE MORNING
The alarm clock is going off, analog and a decade old and sounding furious. PETER LORENZ -- early 20’s and apparantly lacking in the sleep department -- rolls over and strikes uselessly at his alarm clock.
Opening his eyes he finds a little more success in getting the alarm to shut off, and with a groan he mobilizes. He rolls off the bed and seems to land on his feet only by luck. He drags his sheets behind him for several feet as he makes his way to the door, rubbing his eyes.
INT. KITCHEN -- MOMENTS LATER
Peter walks into the kitchen, yawning and looking scarcely alive. He walks over to the counter and grabs the carafe from the coffee pot. His movements all inertia, really, as if he has no energy of his own, he manages to get the carafe under the faucet in the sink and turns it on.
Once the carafe fills, he fills the coffee pot from it, getting most of it into the machine while making sure the counter top gets a bit of a wash, too.
He opens the filter tray and takes out the removable filter-holder. Taking a step and pivoting, showing an amazing economy of motion, he upends it into the trash can and empties it of grounds and old filter.
Without rinsing, he puts a new filter in and opens the lid of the coffee can.
With the lid off, A WHOLE LOT OF JOKE SPRING SNAKES, shoot out into the air and hit him in the face. Peter falls back.
PETER
What the fuck?!
He lands on the floor amid a spray of spring snakes, trying not to smile, still looking a little shaken. He stands up slowly, a lot more awake, and looks into the can.
Inside is no coffee, but there is a note. The camera zooms in past his shoulder to show what it reads. “Pete, Since we’re out of coffee, I thought I’d try to help you wake up. I’ll pick some up after work. Love, Calvin.”
Peter takes the note out and crumbles it, throwing it at the trashcan, missing, and kicking a spring snake.
MUSIC: tom waits: grapfruit moon
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
If you're going to compare fruit...
...the least you can do is compare apples to pears. They're not that dissimilar. So many people seem to enjoy comparing apples to oranges, but that's just silly.
There is no more break, gang.
Exams end on the first friday in May, and I'll have finished my chemistry class by the fourth friday of the month.
I will have a degree in August and I will not know what to do with it.
For the second week in a row I have been given virtually no feedback on my scene for screenwriting class. "This is so good, I had to read it twice before realizing how much information I was getting" is certainly a gratifying thing to hear. Especially from a professional in the field. I hope it indicates that I can make this thing happen.
In the down time in my own little room when I'm not in my two hours of classes a day, I will try to do the actual work that will tell me if that response was a fluke.
"I'm learning to hunt for you."
MUSIC: guided by voices: learning to hunt
There is no more break, gang.
Exams end on the first friday in May, and I'll have finished my chemistry class by the fourth friday of the month.
I will have a degree in August and I will not know what to do with it.
For the second week in a row I have been given virtually no feedback on my scene for screenwriting class. "This is so good, I had to read it twice before realizing how much information I was getting" is certainly a gratifying thing to hear. Especially from a professional in the field. I hope it indicates that I can make this thing happen.
In the down time in my own little room when I'm not in my two hours of classes a day, I will try to do the actual work that will tell me if that response was a fluke.
"I'm learning to hunt for you."
MUSIC: guided by voices: learning to hunt
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
"...and I feel just like a television...
...left on in an empty room..."
This picture is the first day of spring in Asheville, NC. It was taken at one p.m. The white spot there in the middle of the windshield... that is ice.
It's supposed to snow friday.
Thanks for nothin', spring.
On another topic all together, the quote is from a Small 23 song called 'empty room' from their Cakes ep. I own this ep, and if I leant it to you, give it back. I really want to hear this song.
Does anyone remember that episode of the critic (I know you do) in which Jay Sherman sets out to win another Pulitzer? Remember the advice that wins it for him?
Let me remind you: "If the movie stinks, just don't go."
I bring this up because of Larry the Cable Guy.
This guy knows what I'm talkin' about.
Seriously though, when you pay money to see a movie, be it in a theater or to rent it and watch it at home, you are voting. You are voting on the kinds of movies that make money and thereby you are voting for the kinds of movies that will get made.
And there's no mispunched ballots or thrown out votes in the world of cold hard cash. So let's see if we can all do our part, resist the temptation to see Resident Evil 3 or Snakes on a Plane. If you have to see shit, sneak in. Or rent it and watch it with lots of friends. The rental costs the same whether you watch it with a dozen friends or all alone, in the dark, with your shades pulled down, eating hagen dazs.
Encourage Spike Lee and discourage (or kill) Larry the Cable Guy. Choose wisely.
MUSIC: the microphones: the glow
This picture is the first day of spring in Asheville, NC. It was taken at one p.m. The white spot there in the middle of the windshield... that is ice.
It's supposed to snow friday.
Thanks for nothin', spring.
On another topic all together, the quote is from a Small 23 song called 'empty room' from their Cakes ep. I own this ep, and if I leant it to you, give it back. I really want to hear this song.
Does anyone remember that episode of the critic (I know you do) in which Jay Sherman sets out to win another Pulitzer? Remember the advice that wins it for him?
Let me remind you: "If the movie stinks, just don't go."
I bring this up because of Larry the Cable Guy.
This guy knows what I'm talkin' about.
Seriously though, when you pay money to see a movie, be it in a theater or to rent it and watch it at home, you are voting. You are voting on the kinds of movies that make money and thereby you are voting for the kinds of movies that will get made.
And there's no mispunched ballots or thrown out votes in the world of cold hard cash. So let's see if we can all do our part, resist the temptation to see Resident Evil 3 or Snakes on a Plane. If you have to see shit, sneak in. Or rent it and watch it with lots of friends. The rental costs the same whether you watch it with a dozen friends or all alone, in the dark, with your shades pulled down, eating hagen dazs.
Encourage Spike Lee and discourage (or kill) Larry the Cable Guy. Choose wisely.
MUSIC: the microphones: the glow
Friday, March 17, 2006
If you know your saints...
...then you know this is actually kind of appropriate. Still, I am deeply, deeply sorry.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
"...then we'll chain smoke cigarettes...
"...then we'll chain smoke cigarettes, it doesn't matter...", originally uploaded by Vocal Shrapnel.
...It doesn't matter 'cause we're all gonna die."
Radio Free Brno:
Web in Front: the archers of loaf
Car: built to spill
Just like Heaven (live): the cure
Frontier Psychiatry: the avalanches
I'll Be Gone: tom waits
Lawyers, Guns, and Money: warren zevon
Disarm: smashing pumpkins
Under Sad Stars: crooked fingers
Staralfur: sigur ros
A.M. 180: grandaddy
Oh Canada: geddy lee et al.
Friday I'm in Love (live): the cure
Canned Heat: jamiroquai
Life on Mars: david bowie
Waitin' for Superman: the flaming lips
Under Pressure: david bowie and queen
Mine's Not a Highhorse: the shins
Seeing Other People: belle and sebastian
Enjoy the Silence: depeche mode
We Close Our Eyes (live): oingo boingo
It's a potent and reminiscent mix of rocking and balconies and adventures through europe and a dorm in Brno. I dare you to listen to it and not want to go party all night in Vienna or Prague.
What's that, you already want to party all night in Vienna or Prague? I think I've made my point.
MUSIC: we close our eyes (live): oingo boingo
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
"If you're gonna spew....
...spew into this."
If Jack Ramshaw looks partied out, he has a good excuse.
MUSIC: pixies: bone machine
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
This is two-months-from-now-weather,
and I want to spend it on the Vinarska lawn, with champagne and the tragically hip. Sitting Indian Style, cross-legged, wind blowing too-tall grass over discarded butts, balcony shouting, throwing nationalistic stereotypes and cigarette-tricks and bottlecaps... keeping the soccer players at bay with girls desperate to lay claim to the infrequent Czech sunshine.
Andrew, this is Isolation Drills by Guided by Voices.
This is when we decided for the hundredth time that we needed girls.
This is tramspotting.
This is an adventure.
And it will all vanish, I suspect, before my break starts, before I can have even a little of it.
MUSIC: the magnetic fields: the luckiest guy on the lower east side
Andrew, this is Isolation Drills by Guided by Voices.
This is when we decided for the hundredth time that we needed girls.
This is tramspotting.
This is an adventure.
And it will all vanish, I suspect, before my break starts, before I can have even a little of it.
MUSIC: the magnetic fields: the luckiest guy on the lower east side
Monday, February 27, 2006
"each star represents...
...a playmate that I've slept with."
-Abraham Lincoln
These flags are for hatecrimes. It took me a long time to find the sign that told me that.
So February is in its death throes, and another weekend's gone fast and arguably wasted. The more I do what I should, the worse I hurt. This weekend I was on my feet for hours and hours at a time, and I drank more in two nights than I had prior to that all year. So much for clean livin'.
I learned a lot about the butthole surfers, and though I recall not liking much that I learned, I find myself listening to them even now. I also remembered the Sixths today, though, and I can't find it in my heart or my brain to say that I'm enjoying the surfers more than the sixths.
I worry that I don't make any sense a lot of the time.
Spring break is coming, and I will use it to work. I will intend to use it to talk about guerilla asheville with Jack and to make my fourtrack earn it's keep with Malcolm and Laura Marie and Louise and Pete and anyone else willing to make some noise and to clean the room that will be mine and to... probably do a lot of things... but I will not make those promises, because that'll just be one more thing I beat myself up for in two weeks time.
MUSIC: the sixths: in the city in the rain (w/ Lou Barlow)
-Abraham Lincoln
These flags are for hatecrimes. It took me a long time to find the sign that told me that.
So February is in its death throes, and another weekend's gone fast and arguably wasted. The more I do what I should, the worse I hurt. This weekend I was on my feet for hours and hours at a time, and I drank more in two nights than I had prior to that all year. So much for clean livin'.
I learned a lot about the butthole surfers, and though I recall not liking much that I learned, I find myself listening to them even now. I also remembered the Sixths today, though, and I can't find it in my heart or my brain to say that I'm enjoying the surfers more than the sixths.
I worry that I don't make any sense a lot of the time.
Spring break is coming, and I will use it to work. I will intend to use it to talk about guerilla asheville with Jack and to make my fourtrack earn it's keep with Malcolm and Laura Marie and Louise and Pete and anyone else willing to make some noise and to clean the room that will be mine and to... probably do a lot of things... but I will not make those promises, because that'll just be one more thing I beat myself up for in two weeks time.
MUSIC: the sixths: in the city in the rain (w/ Lou Barlow)
Friday, February 24, 2006
did you ever feel like...
...you were part of an experiment? I keep wondering when the scientists will come and tell me that I was part of the placebo group.
"Mr. Johnson, we'd like to inform you that you have been taking a placebo all week. As you show no real progress in your recovery from this gouty attack, your results confirm the value of the drug indomethicin. Here are some actual, working pills. And we apologize for mentioning the band 'Placebo.' We understand as you do that they are a vile musical plague who should've been executed for covering the Smiths. We hope you feel better."
Oh, and go do this thing.
MUSIC: pixies: wave of mutilation
"Mr. Johnson, we'd like to inform you that you have been taking a placebo all week. As you show no real progress in your recovery from this gouty attack, your results confirm the value of the drug indomethicin. Here are some actual, working pills. And we apologize for mentioning the band 'Placebo.' We understand as you do that they are a vile musical plague who should've been executed for covering the Smiths. We hope you feel better."
Oh, and go do this thing.
MUSIC: pixies: wave of mutilation
Thursday, February 16, 2006
The reasons...
...to not go to one's first class are myriad. Perhaps one is sleepy. One could have a hangover or perhaps one has not done ones homework. Rarely does one skip class because every time one takes a step and transfers ones, granted rather substantial, weight to ones left foot they inhale sharply and have the distinct desire to collapse to the floor and then, perhaps, cut off one's left foot.
This is the kind of pain that convinced me in Brno that my foot was broken. And as bad as it was there with trams and miles of cobbled street to walk, there is a substantial difference. There, I had a balcony and grand books and music right at hand. There I could prop up the offending foot, relax, and watch the sun move across the sky, drinking wine because I knew no better, using the inhalations brought by pain to drag on cigarettes and do further harm to my body.
Most importantly, then and there I had Jesse and Andrew. There I had others, Jess Michael and Richard and every one else. As bad as my foot hurts right now, it's not entirely unpleasant. It reminds me of KFC brought from the middle of town, carried back tramwise and cooling because standing made me want to cry. I remember wrapping my foot with toilet paper to keep the packing tape from sticking to my foot, making an ace bandage from whatever was handy, all so I could get my foot into a shoe and hobble into town for fourteen degree beer.
Lots of time on hand, among all this, to read.
I don't think it's adverdant (is that a word?) that Jesse keeps giving me books with characters that take pictures of people who do things I aspire to do, but that's how it is. The Ground Beneath her Feet (which he didn't really give me, but he definitely got me to read it, and provided the copy I used) is about a photographer who takes pictures of the other main characters, incredible Indian rock stars. I have a four track, now, by the way.
Mao II is about a photographer who travels the world to take pictures of writers (among other things, of course). It makes me wish I were a better photographer, it makes me wish I were a better rock star, it makes me wish I were a better writer. It feels like all this is some subtle kind of encouragement from Jesse, and I know he bought me that KFC, too.
And Andrew carried it. And as horrible as the idea of KFC seems now, it's the thought that counts. Happy 2 weeks through the six weeks of winter predicted by the groundhog. It's sixty degrees and NYC stole my blizzard. I need more indomethicin.
MUSIC: sorry about dresden: somewhere there's snow
This is the kind of pain that convinced me in Brno that my foot was broken. And as bad as it was there with trams and miles of cobbled street to walk, there is a substantial difference. There, I had a balcony and grand books and music right at hand. There I could prop up the offending foot, relax, and watch the sun move across the sky, drinking wine because I knew no better, using the inhalations brought by pain to drag on cigarettes and do further harm to my body.
Most importantly, then and there I had Jesse and Andrew. There I had others, Jess Michael and Richard and every one else. As bad as my foot hurts right now, it's not entirely unpleasant. It reminds me of KFC brought from the middle of town, carried back tramwise and cooling because standing made me want to cry. I remember wrapping my foot with toilet paper to keep the packing tape from sticking to my foot, making an ace bandage from whatever was handy, all so I could get my foot into a shoe and hobble into town for fourteen degree beer.
Lots of time on hand, among all this, to read.
I don't think it's adverdant (is that a word?) that Jesse keeps giving me books with characters that take pictures of people who do things I aspire to do, but that's how it is. The Ground Beneath her Feet (which he didn't really give me, but he definitely got me to read it, and provided the copy I used) is about a photographer who takes pictures of the other main characters, incredible Indian rock stars. I have a four track, now, by the way.
Mao II is about a photographer who travels the world to take pictures of writers (among other things, of course). It makes me wish I were a better photographer, it makes me wish I were a better rock star, it makes me wish I were a better writer. It feels like all this is some subtle kind of encouragement from Jesse, and I know he bought me that KFC, too.
And Andrew carried it. And as horrible as the idea of KFC seems now, it's the thought that counts. Happy 2 weeks through the six weeks of winter predicted by the groundhog. It's sixty degrees and NYC stole my blizzard. I need more indomethicin.
MUSIC: sorry about dresden: somewhere there's snow
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
"Untie me, I've said no vows...
...the train is getting way too loud;
I gotta leave here, my girl,
get on with my lonely life.
Just leave the ring on the rail
for the wheels to nullify.
Until this turn in my head
I let you stay and you paid no rent.
I spent twelve long months on the lam.
That's enough sitting on the fence
for the fear of breaking dams.
I find a fatal flaw
in the logic of love,
and go out of my head.
You love a sinking stone
that'll never elope,
So get used to the lonesome,
girl, you must atone some.
Don't leave me no phone number there
It took me all of a year
to put the poison pill to your ear,
but now I stand on honest ground...
on honest ground.
You want to fight for this love,
but honey you cannot wrestle a dove,
so baby it's clear.
You want to jump and dance,
but you sat on your hands,
And lost your only chance.
Go back to your hometown.
Get your feet on the ground,
and stop floating around.
I find a fatal flaw
in the logic of love,
and go out of my head.
You love a sinking stone
that'll never elope
so get used to the lonesome,
girl, you must atone some.
Don't leave me no phone number there.
-The Shins.
Happy Valentines Day.
I gotta leave here, my girl,
get on with my lonely life.
Just leave the ring on the rail
for the wheels to nullify.
Until this turn in my head
I let you stay and you paid no rent.
I spent twelve long months on the lam.
That's enough sitting on the fence
for the fear of breaking dams.
I find a fatal flaw
in the logic of love,
and go out of my head.
You love a sinking stone
that'll never elope,
So get used to the lonesome,
girl, you must atone some.
Don't leave me no phone number there
It took me all of a year
to put the poison pill to your ear,
but now I stand on honest ground...
on honest ground.
You want to fight for this love,
but honey you cannot wrestle a dove,
so baby it's clear.
You want to jump and dance,
but you sat on your hands,
And lost your only chance.
Go back to your hometown.
Get your feet on the ground,
and stop floating around.
I find a fatal flaw
in the logic of love,
and go out of my head.
You love a sinking stone
that'll never elope
so get used to the lonesome,
girl, you must atone some.
Don't leave me no phone number there.
-The Shins.
Happy Valentines Day.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
We don't negotiate...
...with terrorists. And by we I mean me and by terrorists I mean chain e-mails.
I think I'm cursed with something like 90 years of bad luck by now for not having forwarded any of the many, many chainletters I receive. I should also probably be dead, and will definitely not have my wish come true in my age minutes.
Andrew may recall that when he asked if he should make plans for a roadtrip when I told him I was graduating. Well, no roadtrip is necessary for the event itself, but post event it sure would be nice to share a bottle of red or five.
More to come on that front.
The College Foundation loan people, incidentally, think I graduated in December, and so expect three hundred bucks from me by wednesday. I called them and very politely informed them that I was, in fact, taking 18 hours this semester and have definitely not graduated. I'm not sure they buy it.
MUSIC: radiohead: the bends
I think I'm cursed with something like 90 years of bad luck by now for not having forwarded any of the many, many chainletters I receive. I should also probably be dead, and will definitely not have my wish come true in my age minutes.
Andrew may recall that when he asked if he should make plans for a roadtrip when I told him I was graduating. Well, no roadtrip is necessary for the event itself, but post event it sure would be nice to share a bottle of red or five.
More to come on that front.
The College Foundation loan people, incidentally, think I graduated in December, and so expect three hundred bucks from me by wednesday. I called them and very politely informed them that I was, in fact, taking 18 hours this semester and have definitely not graduated. I'm not sure they buy it.
MUSIC: radiohead: the bends
Monday, January 23, 2006
*GACG: You look like Brad Pitt in this picture.
Me: Bullshit!
GACG: (beat) I was lookin' at it sideways.
Me: That's better.
* indicates Guy At College Grocery
Substantially more flattering than Paul Giamatti.
MUSIC: the cure: jumping someone else's train
GACG: (beat) I was lookin' at it sideways.
Me: That's better.
* indicates Guy At College Grocery
Substantially more flattering than Paul Giamatti.
MUSIC: the cure: jumping someone else's train
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
pete on christmas
is he excited or incredibly sleepy? If I could photoshop I'd put his head on a goat's body or something. This guy knows what I'm talking about.
MUSIC: pavement: major leagues
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
"True, I'd give my right arm...
...to keep you safe from harm, and true, for you I'd move to Ecuador. And I'd keep my little farm, chop wood to keep you warm..."
The lyrics are magnetic fields because they are so rad... the picture is indicative of my desired state. Which is to say that sleep is mad elusive, yo.
But I'm not dead, and thanks to a package from Ben Cronin I got over the weekend and some prodding from other sources, I decided it's high time I let everyone know I live.
I'm in a screenwriting course at long last, and that brings me up to 18 hours this semester plus work for the monster bookstore that is barnes and noble.
"song for myla goldberg" by the decemberists is about Bee Season.
I got a four track for christmas.
I have a mix tape from Mr. Cronin and I have discovered I no longer own a tape deck. remedy is being sought.
Anansi Boys is not as good as American Gods.
The office on DVD is totally rad.
EDIT - go here
MUSIC: the magnetic fields: I don't really love you anymore
Monday, December 12, 2005
Thursday, December 08, 2005
"The bottle is empty...
...the sleigh has a flat..."
That lovely sentiment comes from the christmasiest of sources, Tom Waits. I dare everyone to go listen to Tom Waits and Peter Murphy's lovely christmas duet, "christmas sucks." Between that and the Streets (which is Jesse's fault in a roundabout way), things are pretty upbeat.
I'm sure it's not hurting that situation that I'm essentially done with the semester. Papers out of the way, last real class meeting in an hour... And these last classes have dragged by. I spent most of my last biology class meeting of the semester assigning two-element periodic table symbol combinations as nick names to people. See the comments, I won't bog down the post with a long list.
Or any further writing.
MUSIC: the streets: blinded by the lights
That lovely sentiment comes from the christmasiest of sources, Tom Waits. I dare everyone to go listen to Tom Waits and Peter Murphy's lovely christmas duet, "christmas sucks." Between that and the Streets (which is Jesse's fault in a roundabout way), things are pretty upbeat.
I'm sure it's not hurting that situation that I'm essentially done with the semester. Papers out of the way, last real class meeting in an hour... And these last classes have dragged by. I spent most of my last biology class meeting of the semester assigning two-element periodic table symbol combinations as nick names to people. See the comments, I won't bog down the post with a long list.
Or any further writing.
MUSIC: the streets: blinded by the lights
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
...can't.... resist....
What kind of pirate am I? You decide!
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Monday, December 05, 2005
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