Life

Writer’s Family Reunion 2016

Writespace had their Writers Family Reunion, which I attended with my future sexy wife. Writespace is located in an art studio warehouse called Silver Street, a peaceful, meditative spot. The itinerary included events like a Critique Group Speed Dating, small-group Q&A’s with local but very accomplished writers (I was lucky enough to sit with D. L. Young of Soledad fame), panels on publishing and marketing by the published and marketable, and games like pin the mustache on Faulkner.

 I learned a lot, but instead of dumping my notes on the internet, I’ll jot four things:

 (1) We have a literary scene! Houston’s not just a sunset-and-traffic, cowboy-hat-toting big oil city that’s rising into the sky as it sinks into the marsh. And that literary scene is immense, intricate, ever-expanding.

 (2) Many writers in Houston choose to self-publish but it’s a lot of work. It kind of takes an obsessive, hard-working type, or, well, a writer.

 (3) There’s a debate in the community about novel-writing. Some say that if you want to write novels, you should write novels. Others to write short fiction first and hone your skills.

 Finally, (4) Houston is very new and emerging writer friendly. 

 10/10, would write again.

Life, Scifi, Writing (Published)

Published — “Pink Pastures”

365 Tomorrow has published my speculative flash fiction “Pink Pastures.” The story was based on a dream, and since I can’t afford a therapist on a teacher’s salary, I resorted to a poor substitute (something I also know about, being a teacher). Ursula Le Guin’s “The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas” influenced the setting, plus I really wanted to write about eldritch genitalia without using the word “vagina.” You’ll notice the comments aren’t forgiving; in my defense, my “purple prose” could have been intentional on a meta-level. (It’s not). 365 Tomorrows is an online journal that produces a new speculative fiction every single flipping day. The site would be a great complement to your morning bagel and cup of raktajino.

Life

Student Congress

My Debate I course is engaged in Student Congress at the moment (during which students become representatives, argue over legislation, and vote whether or not to pass certain bills and resolutions).

Yesterday, on a resolution regarding the NSA and it’s activities, I had a student give a speech in support of the agency who 1) didn’t know what the acronym NSA stood for, 2) didn’t know who Edward Snowden was, 3) reassured us that the NSA couldn’t see if you were watching porn on your phone, and 4) when asked to identify at least one terrorist attack that they prevented, said 9/11.

Life

Peace, ho!

On the occasion, my students will have outrageous interpretations for the language in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, such as in the repeated expression “peace ho!” or “stand ho!” and the late arrival of a soldier named Clitus.

All these manifestations make my students crack up predictably, year after year. But the section most perversely twisted is the following scene from Act V, which I record here for your amusement and under this new context.

Hint: Brutus is asking these soldiers to kill him, but that’s not revealed until the end of the dialogue.


BRUTUS: Sit thee down, Clitus. Slaying is the word [in my students’ lexicon, slaying has a sexual connotation]. It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.

(BRUTUS whispers to CLITUS)

CLITUS: What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world!

BRUTUS: Peace then. No words.

CLITUS: I’d rather kill myself.

BRUTUS: Hark thee, Dardanius.

(BRUTUS whispers to Dardanius)

DARDANIUS: Shall I do such a deed?

CLITUS: O Dardanius!

DARDANIUS: O Clitus!

CLITUS: What ill request did Brutus make to thee?

DARDANIUS: To kill him

[My students: Ohhhhh…]

 

Life, Satire

Spoken Word — “How to be a Man”

Transcript:

How to be a Man: Splitting Firewood with your Face and Other Manly Skills

Say manly things. In fact, insert man into everything you say. It’s not that hard, man. There are plenty of manly words to diversify your manabulary. For example, mancore. It’s like a manticore, but manlier. Try shouting mancore after every manly thing you do, which should be all the time, and then some. DoMANate conversations with words like mandaculous, mandate, mandible, mandetta, mandlebars, comMANdo, mand.

Don’t get confused if people shit their pants. Real men have that effect.

Brag. Brag about everything. Even if it’s not true. No shame. I’ve never cock slapped a shark. I am not facebook friends with the Dalai Llama. I don’t even know how you’d arm wrestle a volcano but I brag about it all the time. And I’m so manificent that the world changes to fit my point of view. So brag, and if anybody calls you out on it, mount their genitals on a spear as a warning to others. Then brag about it.

I’ve actually concocted a few phrases to get your ginormous braggart balls rolling. “You know my girlfriend was complaining about her ex the other day so I threw him off a mountain.” “I’m sorry teach I’m late for class but you know I was too busy clubbing a bear to death with my schlong.”

Hit something. Be it a man, a woman, a child, then throw it. Ever seen judo? They throw stuff all the time. Don’t want to get up? Throw verbal abuse. “Your never going to amount to anything, son.”

Which brings me to my next point: pee on everything. Pee on the ground, pee on pee, pee on the audience, pee in space, pee on pandas, especially if they’re cock blocking you. Peeing is like marking your territory; it tells people where you’ve been and what you’ve been up to. It’s like Facebook. Where you’re going to pee next should be a constant discussion between you and your other men.

Finally, facial hair. It isn’t fashion, it’s life. It’s not accessory, it’s necessity. Mustachery is mandatory in the mantheon of manly men. Just look at the muschateers. Grow a mustache. No, two mustaches. Doublestache. Use the extra mustache as a boomerang to destroy your enemies. Can’t grow a stache, mortal? Staple a moose to your face.

So, if you’ve been listening to my mantra, you should be a man by now. Your balls should be dragging two feet behind you. You should have the ability to stare the sun to death. You should be like “yeah, sucka, you go down. You go down. Rematch!” Your very scent should cause women to keel over pregnant, but that’s okay, babies are great, they’re more people to fight!

So be a man, unless of course, you find a woMAN.

Life, Satire

Short Film — Bare Romance

My 16mm black & white short film “Bare Romance” debuted at UCSB’s Reel Loud Film Festival 2012. Worked with some wonderful people, and a few wonderful naked people, plus the band Each Peace who performed live at the show (per Reel Loud tradition).

SYNOPSIS: An avant-garde comedy about a naked guy (Zach Lemke) who shows up at a party and feels ostracized and different because he’s naked.