Took You Long Enough

Wilson 3 is complete. Well, reasonably complete. Complete enough. I know, know, that some typo or continuity error slipped through, but at this point I’m still ready to unveil it. It’s called, as you may know, Always Happy to Serve You, and can be found by clicking on the title I just stated as well as the snazzy new ‘Recent Works’ section at the top of the bar to your right. Please do comment. Please do get your friends hooked on the series.

The story ended up quite a bit different than I expected. It started as a means to vent frustrations from work at [redacted] and turned into the first half of something bigger, something not just about idiotic customers. Oh, sure, there are a zillion idiotic customers to come whenever I write the second half of this, but that won’t necessarily be the focus. The fate of Clarence and Clarice will take the forefront. So far I’ve written a crazy ending and a less crazy ending. We’ll see which I use.

A Test of Faith

I am not a religious man. I’m an athiest in the sense that I’m not going to believe in God until there’s evidence of him existing. No, the universe existing doesn’t count. However, I like to have a smidgen of faith in humanity in general. So then Lanuria has to go and make me question everything with this.

This is either the saddest thing I’ve seen since the bear having a birthday party (which I won’t post here because I don’t like making readers cry) or else the greatest piece of satire since Swift.

There’s an adage known as Poe’s Law which states that “Without a winking smiley or other blatant display of humor, it is impossible to create a parody of Fundamentalism that SOMEONE won’t mistake for the real thing.” This technique for MAKING ONE’S SELF BLEED is a perfect correlary.

Either someone is so obsessed with Edward Cullen that they have drawn blood in an attempt to sate him, or someone is a stellar writer and their capacity for satire far outweighs mine. Either way, I’m going to go drink heavily now.

A Real Person Would Reference a Chameleon Here; I’m Too Geeky For That

Today, I feel like Alcazar.

It’s one thing when I rip off the style of the Venture Bros. in my writing. I can live with that. Only non-late-night show that I actually watch on TV besides Good Eats, and that’s more of a ‘Hey, Good Eats is on!’ thing than something I tune in for. Anyway.

I don’t mind a similar style to Venture. I didn’t even beat myself up when I started writing stories with cold opens. That’s very television. But now I’ve been reading a lot of John Hodgman’s stuff, and I’m working on some Wilson, and I see that I’ve written the following line:

Past the dish area was storage and the walk-in freezer. Accounts that say that there was once a body kept in the freezer are unproven.

I can hear that, in my head, as being said in John Hodgman’s voice. That scares me a little. It’s said that good artists borrow and great artists steal, which I understand and totally agree with – do note the Creative Commons tag on my sidebar, if you will. I mean, if for some ungodly reason you want to write Varendil into something, by all means, do it. Just send credit back my way and remember that he skips on the easy jokes.

My point is that I don’t mind borrowing from other people, but when my writing starts to reflect my current input this highly, I get scared. I start wondering if everything I write is self-parody, I think about re-reading old stuff to get back in ‘the Wilson mood,’ and I start to feel like Alcazar when his many brides start beating his ass – like I’m shifting from one form to another, parts of me stuck in between, my head in one shape, my legs in another, and I worry about my ‘real form.’

On the other hand, I am a whore for making people laugh, so I’m gonna keep this shit up until you stop caring.

One of These Things IS Like the Others

I’ve installed a new banner at the top of the site. Like the writings that I showcase on this site, it is amateur, subject to change, and I wholeheartedly welcome feedback on it. Fortunately, there is a comment section to this post that works perfectly for that purpose.

Really?

Really? Not selling CDs to the best source of loyal customers that actually value the better sound quality of something that’s not a 64kbps MP3? My God. I’m literally laughing out loud. Now I want to pirate your stuff because you don’t deserve money for making moronic decisions like this.

Update!

The first draft of Always Happy to Serve You has been completed! Unfortunately, the person who cares the most about that already knew it and is helping me improve upon it. So… yeah. When your audience for a story you’re working on consists of about two people, it puts a damper on the pride you feel when completing it. That said, I’ve been wanting to get this done for a while now, so it still feels good.

That’s about all I have to say. Plus my friend’s here. TV out.

Ho-lee Crap

This might be hueg. The Iran twitter stuff was big, but this could be bigger, because even a cry of freedom is not as strong as the Internet Hate Machine. Go get ‘em, boys.

In Which the Author is not Himself

I felt like two different people tonight, and they probably couldn’t be more opposite.

First, I felt like a character from a Judy Blume book. I haven’t actually read any Judy Blume books, but when I think of children’s books and mischief, that’s what I think of. That and Amélie, which I will not identify with, for reasons I will outline later in this post.

In any case, I felt like a Judy Blume character.

At my workplace, which I shall not name due to the company’s “Social Media Technology Policy,” which actually has the gall to suggest I tack a “The material on this site is my own and does not necessarily represent the view of my employer” on my websites, Headbooks, Facespaces, etc. Instead, I won’t name my employer, which is a shame. I would gladly testify to the quality of their smoothies and reuben sandwiches.

In any case, I’m at work, and I work on drive-thru. One of the headsets used for this purpose is old, ratty, broken, etc. It doesn’t function well and this serves only to aggravate workers and interfere with communication with customers. I whined, others complained, but no nagging led the boss to buy a new headset. So, Thursday, I arranged it that the restaurant owner – let’s call her “Della” -  would have to use the crappy headset when she worked drive-thru.

Lo and behold, there’s now a note in the office that we need a new headset. Mission accomplished.

The other person I feel like tonight is the opposite of Superfudge: V. Vendetta V.

I have a reputation of correcting notes in the break room. The management puts up notes, but some of the managers have horrible English skills. So I’d take a pen to their notes and run wild through their sentences and paragraphs, correcting grammatical errors like mad. Finally, the bosses complained. They said that my correction undermined their authority. I agreed, but didn’t see this as a bad thing. However, I stopped correcting the notes for the most part.

However, a curious thing occured. The notes still get corrected. Sure, there are plenty of glaring comma errors going uncorrected, but the big stuff’s getting changed. And it makes me feel like I’ve inspired people. It may be in a tiny, pointless, and almost annoying way, but I’ve still inspired people. I’m gonna chase that feeling.

Now then. Amélie.

One of the professors that I respect most loves that movie, and it has won many awards. Even the things I hear about it, the idea of gaslighting someone, etc, make me think I’d like it. There’s only one problem: That movie poster and DVD cover try to eat my soul. Look for yourself.

Jesus Christ. She’s going to open her mouth and it’s going to be a tunnel to hell, like a sarlacc combined with more teeth. And she’s going to Dementor’s Kiss me.

I trust I don’t have to hotlink that joke for people to get it?

My Own Worst Enemy

Congrats to me! I’ve written something else that isn’t the thing that I want to write.

The piece I actually have written is called Riposte, and is a short vignette (redundant?) starring everyone’s my favorite priest. It can be found here. If you liked the restaurant scene in EKEH, you’ll like this; it’s basically the same thing, but with swords and ensorcellation.

More Potpo… Potpour… Miscellanea

Is it telling when I feel like it’s easier to write for Warcraft than the real world because I feel like I’m more familiar with the setting?

Maybe it’s becaue when I write Wilson stories, I feel pressure. If it’s ‘realistic’ fiction, I have standards to live up to. It should ge Good Writing. Writing a piece about Varendil and Lanuria, though, that’s fanfic. I already know I’m better than tons of the people out there writing fanfic. Heck, proper punctuation and spelling alone probably put me at the 75th percentile or so.

Now that I’ve mentioned proper punctuation and spelling, I know there’s going to be a typo somewhere in this post.

In any case, writing for Warcraft has been more fun than trying to work on Wilsons III and IV. I have tomorrow off, maybe I’ll take some time to go out into the meatspace and shift my brain back into reality.

If not, I’ll just write something for Wilson about someone who sits in his room eating cold pizza and touching himself to John Hodgman’s audiobook. I think I’m an expert in that area by now.

As far as an actual reason to have a blog post goes, there’s always this. I don’t think there’s a reaction more apt than that of Jerry Holkins, who said that those of us with Xbox 360s are “living in the Goddamned future.“

Have I mentioned that I love Tycho’s writing? I’m pretty sure I have.

P.S.: With WoW in a sort of lame duck period until 3.2, what better time than now to tell your friends about the delicious Warcraft stories here, here, and right here?