Painting With Shotguns XXVIII
I got me a Ruger Red Label over-and-under 20 gauge, and I’m stuffing its barrels full of all the sweet treats and teat meats your growing body needs.
Popping the safety.
Pulling the trigger.
Blowing a hole through your brainpan.
It’s time to paint with shotguns, little babies.
Hide your children and your old people. Do you hear the drums? The Doom Doctors of Democracy are coming. They have scalpels. And scalpel-bots. And scalpel-fingers. And syringe teeth. They wear on their sleeves the Merit Badges of Obamacare: “Most Grannies Euthanized!” “Retroactive Aborter of Seven-Year-Olds!” “Nazi Surgeon Of The Year!” Oh, sure. They tell you, they’re just going to freeze that planter’s wart and take it off your thumb. But then they feed you a heady broth of evil stem cells! They brainwash you into becoming a SOCIALIST FREAK. They implant a fetus inside your pee-pee tract just so they can rip it out and step on it.
Welcome to Health Care Reform.
Or, at least, you’d think that’s what’s happening if you listen to some people.
I mean, holy shit, everybody calm down. You don’t agree with what health care aims to do? Fine. That’s okay. A rational discourse can be had. Me, I like it, but I recognize that this is a Free Country and we can agree to disagree, but maybe juuuuust maaaaybe we can do it with a modicum of civility? See, the sky isn’t falling. It hasn’t fallen. It won’t fall. The health care bill? Not even all that impressive. I mean, it does a lot of good things, but I’m just saying that it’s not exactly earth-shaking in the changes it puts into play. It’s not like we have a public option or anything.
Christ, this bill looks like earlier reform plans put forth. Oh, sorry, let me finish: put forth by Republicans.
Yesterday, you’d think Obama finally went ahead and ripped the sleeve off his jacket to reveal an ‘SS’ patch on his arm. Facebook was full of looneys saying all kinds of really dramatic shit. Hospitals are closing! The people’s will was defied! This has poisoned the democratic process! It’s unconstitutional!
No, no, no and no. Relax. Holy crap. Under Bush we saw lots of nutty changes and watched as civil liberties were cornholed in the shower — where were you, then? It just goes to show what a loopy country we are. You go to war and blow up brown people and everybody’s nodding and smiling. You try to give people health care and stop people from getting wallet-raped and it’s like the fall of the walls of Jericho.
And man, the GOP is being all temper tantrumy right now, dang. What happened to those guys? They don’t get it. They really don’t. I could swing that way. Seriously. You get me the right candidate, and I’ll go gay — erm, poor choice of words, maybe — for the GOP. I once thought McCain was that guy, but then he turned into a pissy little girl. The GOP is turning into the Party of No, which is short for Party of No Good Ideas. Stop obstructing! Join the discussion! Quit whining and actually offer up some compromise. You’re like that kid who holds his breath until he turns blue. By the way, that kid? Yeah, his pants smell like pee.
What I’m saying is, I’m not mad at the GOP or at conservative ideas. But you have to bring that stuff to the table with civility and compromise, whether you’re politician, pundit, or plain ol’ proselyte. Same goes for the left, of course — but right now, they’re not the ones making angry faces. You want the independents? You want me? You want my vote, Grand Old Party? Then calm down and start offering some solutions instead of cock-blocking rhetoric.
And in the meantime?
Take a hot bath. Let Calgon take you away.
Eat some chocolate.
Pet your dog.
This is not the end of the world. It’s not even the end of democracy.
I get no greater pleasure than reading the crazy shit you fruity nut bars use to find this website. Examples in the last week?
“Donkey Holes: The Movie”
(Sounds like an Oscar winner!)
“Chinese Shit Storm”
(Much worse than the Malaysian Pee Tornado.)
“Language For Genitals”
(Trust me, you can talk to your balls, but they will never talk back. I know from experience.)
(thinglaunchwhere? thinglaunchhere? thinglaunchinyourface?)
“you make me want to kick a baby.”
(I’m sorry. I have that effect on people.)
“everyone calm the fuck down”
(Word. Shhhhh. Shh.)
“How much for a Latvian hooker?”
(To buy, or rent? Like, for a one-night thing, or for your ‘stable of Latvian strumpets?’ ‘Cause I know a guy. I’m just saying. You call me, we’ll talk.)
“why you shouldn’t quit on life.”
(You came here to find that? Uhhh. Hope you found it. Please don’t quit on life, whoever you are. Look at it this way: you can be like me, and get on the Internet, and become creatively profane. Good times. Reason to live, you ask me.)
“Do bacteria live in beards?”
(Yes, of course. Helpful bacteria, like the bacteria in your gut. Sentient bacteria, too. It’s what allows you to telepathically commune with your beard. They’re like midichlorians. Except, we call them “beardichlorians.” George Lucas knows what’s up. He’s got a beard full of the damn things.)
I am currently looking for freelance writing work to take me through both spring and summer. Would love to get a robust schedule plotted out so I know where my mortgage is coming from over the next six months. If you know of anyone looking for a writer or are looking for a writer yourself, I would mightily appreciate you letting me know. See that contact button up yonder? Do not hesitate to use it. I’ll be your best friend.
(I also updated the Books For Sale list with… ta-da! More books.)
I do have some work and some leads. Today I’m finishing up my Maschine Zeit contribution, which is work that has been a certain pleasure. Can’t wait till that game launches.
I will be doing some Alpha Omega work through April.
I’ve got leads on some fiction freelancing.
You should keep an eye on Collapsus-dot-com. Small teaser video there, now — but more to come, and something I’m pretty excited about, honestly.
This weekend I’ll be at Simcon in Rochester, NY. Anybody going?
The following weekend I’m speaking at DIY Days in NYC, giving a “Once Upon A Playtime” game-story workshop. I’m hoping you’ll join me?
You hear me talk about Eddy Webb’s ears on the Darker Days podcast? Did you?
I kind of feel like maybe, sorta, you didn’t go over and check out Do Some Damage yesterday, where I contributed some thoughts on the sheer awesomeness of improvised weaponry. Go there. Contribute.
The sixth draft of the screenplay is not only done, but finessed and sent off to our producers, to Sundance Labs, and to our Sundance advisors.
We’ve had some breakthroughs on the TV script.
Heard nothing on the novel, as yet. Worried that it’s dying on the docks like a fish gulping for air.
Life and work progresses.
Seriously. It’s what the lynx does.
Holy shit! Doggie butt covers. Thanks, Nerdist.
I now demand a suberb lyrebird to mock me with his bird sounds.
Your dog wants you to know some stuff. Warning: awwwww.
David Mamet also wants you to know some stuff. About writing. In all caps.
Two words: ALIEN GODDAMN SURVIVOR.
Enjoying Justified in FX? I am. You might like to read the original Raylan Givens story, then, which can be found here. This might be a subject of a future writing post, actually. So get reading.
The Dread Pirate LeCharles headed on down Texas-way to attend SXSW, and like the hero returning from darkness with new information, he comes back and shows us his takeaways. And he asks a great question in the process: “Why Keep Blogging?”
Russell wants you to know, he likes games. Maybe too much. It’s Fantasy Heartbreaker, baby.
Finally: The Weird Al Yankovic story.