Some Nights I Chat to the Interwebs

22/11/2012

Some time in the evening, on a couch.

"Have you listened to me lately / Lately I've been going crazy!" - fun.

 Good evening Interwebs,

I trust that you’ve been well behaved and kept the shenanigans and tomfoolery at a minimum. I’m coming at you from the couch at the home front tonight – just to share a thought or two with you and a whole lot of imaginary vodka. Don't worry, I'm buying.

Me: Good evening Interwebs.
Interwebs: Good evening Charlie.

I'm just sitting here listening to some fun., Dia Frampton and The Mysterious Traveller radio drama, you know, a typical Thursday night for a cool cat such as myself. Dude, I gotta tell you. I straight up got to meet my future self the other day. Future Charlie was hanging out at a dingy bar and everything... I must say he's an oddball. He was feeling all kinds of suicidal and crap and had travelled to the past to kill himself. Sheesh! The nonsense future selves get up to. If I could travel back in time I'd fix things... No, wait, I've watched enough TV to know that doesn't work. I guess a spot in the past is an interesting place to kill oneself. Hmm... Go future Charlie. He was probably singing, 'I don't need a new love or a new life, just a better place to die.' Anyhoo, he still didn't have a beard so let's not pat him on the back too much. Before we parted he left me a letter that I’ve not opened yet but as soon as I do I’ll let you read it. I just hope it’s not as morbid as he is.

"I’m coming at you from the couch at the home front tonight..."

Aside: Daniel in Dia Frampton's song about him sounds like a really cool fellow, very quirky and all. He sleeps without pillows in a house on Cherry Street.

Tell me stories, Interwebs, what's been happening with you aside from all the illegal downloading and porn? Ah, people on social networks annoying you. Alas, you actually have to deal with everybody on social networks, you can't just unfollow them or unfriend them. Anyhoo, speaking of unfriending, how does one do that in real life? Some people just don't get that I don't want to hang with them, even after I'd said it. A tazer you say... I like the way you think. Have you thought about acquiring one for yourself to give those people who annoy you a little jolt? Google one that would deliver a fatal charge if administered correctly. It's a good thing we're friends, you and I, so my constant whining when I'm sad or jumping up and down when I'm happy doesn't annoy you. I'm a pretentious prick but you love me. I'll buy you more imaginary vodka if you say yes... Some nights (snicker) I sit here and tell you the biggest load of crap and act like it matters to the world at large and you listen, Interwebs, you listen to the stories about me killing my neighbours with paper planes carrying tiny nuclear explosives and you don't call the police folk. I like that about you.

Remember BB guns? I'm sure you do, what with your vault of infinite intelligence. Those were cool and would come with all the instructions about not shooting people or animals, your only allowed target of living things was plants and that was probably because everyone simply forgot to add them to the list. The guys who made BB guns wanted to sell children guns that are fun because you could shoot your friend’s eye out but at the same time wanted to promote non-violence. They should've added a tagline that reads: 'Enjoy BB guns responsibly. Don't shoot people, animals or plants. The only BBs we’re interested in now are of the RIM kind and they just aren’t as much fun as shooting your friend in the head and laughing whilst he cries.

Askew: Isabella should run away to Cherry Street and hook up with Daniel if he's not averse to the fact that she's a sleeping tiger come awake. The dude sleeps without pillows so I don't think he'd mind.

"equal opportunity brain cell destruction"

I’m tired now, all this imaginary vodka is going to my head and I need to lie down to evenly distribute it to all of my brain. I’m all about equal opportunity brain cell destruction after all. Listen, it was really nice talking to you and even though both of us deserve certificates for lunacy to proudly hang on our walls I think we’re okay. I’ll hit you up again soon and we can feed our imaginary alcohol habit. Be cool my slice of home.

C. S. Lewis Blog: Happy 75th Birthday to The Hobbit!

C. S. Lewis Blog: Happy 75th Birthday to The Hobbit!

“All I remember about the start of The Hobbit is sitting correcting School Certificate papers in the everlasting weariness of that annual task forced on impecunious academics with children. On a blank leaf I scrawled: ‘In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.’ I did not and do not know why.  I did nothing about it, for a long time.”

String Theory

I’ve not been living up to my Writer’s Creed from the very moment I penned it. That’s not a great start to being the best writer I can be. I landed a proper adult job that gets in the way of what was already a rather sporadic writing schedule and thus over the last five weeks or so my writing’s been a matter of strings – tiny little vibrations of ideas that would make up grand mindscapes if someone would make the effort to braid them together. I’ve had some moments of inspiration that I imagine could’ve turned out well if I’d taken the time to nurture them. My overall excuse is that I don’t have time, but that’s not true, all the weird other shit I get up to considered. I’m writing this on the bus home right now because this long trip right here is time that I can use for writing instead of looking out of the window for half an hour. Even though it's the first rain of Spring and the view is gorgeous.

‘…over the last five weeks or so my writing’s been a matter of strings – tiny little vibrations of ideas that would make up grand mindscapes if someone would make the effort to braid them together…’

Since my writing’s been reduced to the quantum level of strings and all things very small it’s best that I make plans to conquer the dimension that is Time first before moving back to Space. I’ve never been all that great with my Time management but that has to change if I’m to get all the things I need done out of the way, things like:

·         Work (sustaining engine of my life and all)
·         R.E.D. October (pretend you know what that is)
·         Reading (I've been reading Toll the Hounds forever!)
·         Writing
·         Gym
·         People (I need to cut down on people I don't like though, they're bad for my health or 

          something equally sinister) 
·         Family
·         Movies
·         Series
·         Gaming
·         Eating (a very pleasurable pass time this)

The rain outside is distracting me quite a lot – it's transforming the ugly CBD to something quite lovely. Anyway, Time, I'm addressing you personally now. No, don't try hide behind your impressive silver beard! This thing we've been doing you and I, it needs to have some sort of a structure that benefits us both, you know. Even if it's a floppy sort of structure, I don't mind, as long as we get through 24 hours of you and we can look back and nod satisfactorily that we didn't waste all that much of you staring at the ceiling, although, it must be said, it's a very beautiful ceiling.

I'm not sure how one goes about the whole setting up a schedule business so we'll need to find out how that's done and do it. Any ideas who we can consult? Or am I doing all the research again? For all your ticking and tocking you're a lazy bugger.

'No, don't try hide behind your impressive silver beard!'

(Aside... askance…? Askew…? That sort of thing. Nthabiseng said to talk to 5 and ask 5 to come sooner. Around about half past 4 will do. So, hi, 5, b3an_Champ here. Could we get that done please, the whole half past 4 business and all. Thanks. I'm busy working with your father to conquer him so you know, family friend and all that. Cool.)

Once I conquer Time I can focus on the dimensions of up and down, backwards and forwards, left and right and inside out.

***

Skip forward a week; add some days and nights and here I am in a hospital waiting room. My mom has a standing (more likely sleeping though) problem with her liver – failure and what not. She had an episode tonight and here we are. I'm scared a little but she seems okay right now. Since I'm here I decided to go over the ol' writing pad on my phone and saw this. I'm quite disappointed in myself. I let a whole week and some days and nights pass without doing much of this writing business save for two middling poems. Really? It takes a goddam hospital room to get me trying. That's just wrong. I want to do better than that, be better than that. I want to be my own muse.

That is all.

"Fool," said my Muse to me, "look in thy heart, and write." 

Sandton Princess in an Advertising World...: Once Upon a Time I used to Read Books

Sandton Princess in an Advertising World...: Once Upon a Time I used to Read Books: Once upon a time, a long long time ago, I used to read books. I used to devour them like pieces of cake. I would read anything I coul...

The Writer's Creed

Islam, Judaism, Christianity and even the Brotherhood of Assassins, they all have creeds. People who subscribe to these and other sects live by these creeds and die by these creeds. I am a writer and I need a creed that will be the force that drives me in that magical moment when fingers tap keyboard or thumb and forefinger clutch pen to jot down my brain noodles and present them as useful thought. I need a creed that'll set a fire to my mind and transform the words I conjure from mere to more.

I kneel here, in the darkest cavern of my mind, all voodoo ritual-like, and swear my fealty to my Muse: that from this day forth I shall live by this keyboard and pen, I shall die clutching these writers' tools and if I were to be resurrected by the likes of Dr Victor Frankenstein that I'll be a zombie whose hands are perpetually ink stained. With my last breath, as I stand facing Death I'll assualt her with a barrage of words worthy of a scroll in a dusty library. Thus I will be welcome in the mighty company of the legendary scribes.

I promise to write everyday, whether I'm feeling blue, green or grey. I promise to do battle with that white sheet of paper (digital or tangible) even though I know I will suffer defeat more often than not. I want to weather that 'long defeat' like Tolkien's Elves of old did their war against Morgoth, that darkest of lords. Like Liesel Meminger, the book thief, I want to fall in love with words; I want to stand up and hate them and always endeavour to make them right. 

"all voodoo ritual-like"

I write to tell my stories, the stories of people whose lives breathe and at times bleed into mine; I write to share my mind, heart and soul with other minds, hearts and souls. I write selfishly and I write selflessly. I seek to make sense of life and to be understood in life. I write nonsense when I find I cannot make sense and I'm misunderstood or I stand under amiss. I write with a lot of fear - it's always near, whispering caution and poison in my ear. I negotiate personal space with fear, it's a lifelong tug of war for the real estate of my mind. I write to play well (leg godt) with words like people play with LEGO bricks. I stick words together to construct grand structures I often have no names for but they make sense somehow - their lack of conventional sense make them so. As I've said before, I'm a wordslinger, my words, the pieces of my heart, are the bullets with which I shoot at readers and pierce souls. I aim for a gutshot and, ironically, I'm the one who spills my guts (blood and shit all over a page). My headshots rejuvenate brains instead of spilling them like secrets, like b3ans. I write to spread good rumours like a disease, but without the dis- affixed, I do it with ease. I give readers a good infection. I construct my words in simile in the hope that readers deconstruct them with a smile.

I am a writer. I always try my imaginary best. I frequent the Well at the World's End: I am well-read, well-informed and well-written.

Letters to God #5

Hey there Big G,

Pieces of Letters to God

You're Life's manager, right? Well she gave me lemons and doesn't want to take them back. I don't care for lemonade or jumping back into the public eye and squirting lemon juice in it, like that Eminem fellow. So here I am, talking with You.

In fact these lemons are going a long way in souring my life: I lost my wallet because of them, lost a friend's money and computer hardware. My favourite pair of jeans died. All these little things keep happening and I blame the crate of lemons.

This crate of lemons is just sitting here and doing nothing for me. Could you just take them off of my hands so that I can utilize the space for something else - like placing my new sweet hat on?

Please do that for me.

That is all, Sir.

Amen and good day.

Cupboard Person of the Week

"I will not let failure and defeat write the story of my personal history.

Instead, I will let my life speak the tale of the greater narratives.

Narratives of those who became great."

My Juliet, Audrey Katsidzira's on my hit list this week. She's a friend of mine who's not imaginary like most of them on here are and her influence on me is worthy of bards telling tale of it accompanied by the music of lyres. Don't tell her this, but I've set in motion a plot to convert her to my musical sensibilities under the guise of 'just sharing the love'. Very soon she'll be rocking out at death metal concerts and drinking the blood of cute bunnies. It's going to be great.

I don't see her at all as much as I want to but she always knows exactly what to say to me. She's like a sip of refreshing water, is my Juliet. Just watching her live is inspirational to me. She's a friend whom I consider a role model and a mentor. She is oh-so beautiful, both physically and spiritually. Her mind is like C.S. Lewis writes of that of his wife, it's that of a leopard or a panther; quick, lithe and nimble. She's the sort of person who can put up with and laugh at my shenanigans but she can put her foot down and keep me in check when the need arises.

Lady Juliet is without a doubt one of the best people I know and I'm glad of it. She's ahead of me in terms of things accomplished but not so far that I can't see her clearly enough to look up to her. She's near enough to give me kind words of encouragement when I stumble and fall, is gentle Juliet. It's nice to have friends like her to look up to because their presence is much more real than that of people you don't actually know.

Things We Forget: 865: Your past doesn't need to be your future.

Things We Forget: 865: Your past doesn't need to be your future.: Parbury, Singapore

So It Begins

In terms of fantasy, sci-fi and comic book movies the year 2012 only begins now. Sure we've had the rather lacklustre Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance, Wrath of the Titans and, dare I add, The Hunger Games to whet our appetites for what is to come, but that's all they were - starters before the main course.

The first of the really big guns has already been rolled out as we speak. Marvel's super team, The Avengers, is assembled and ready to face the threat that Loki (Tom Hiddleston) and his goons (such a cool word) pose to the world (by which they mostly mean the US).

When the world faces its greatest threat, as it does on a regular basis, Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), Director of international peace keeping agency, S.H.I.E.L.D, calls together the world's greatest and most mismatched heroes to kick it in the head: Captain America (Chris Evans), a soldier literally lost in time; 'enormous, green rage monster', The Hulk (Mark Ruffalo); 'genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist' in a suit of armour, Iron Man; hammer wielding god of thunder, Thor and agents, Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) and Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner). That, my furry friends, sets the scene for all sorts of tomfoolery and kick-assery that both those who read Mark Millar and Bryan Hitch's The Ultimates and those who didn't are sure to enjoy. Do yourself a favour and go see this one in all three of its glorious dimensions. Joss Whedon has done a great job at the helm of this ship and never steers it wrongly. The Avengers is set to be one of 2012's highlights.

From here on out it's G.I. Joe: Retaliation (29 June 2012), which has The Rock as Roadblock. That alone will result in me watching it but it also looks like it will be a good movie in terms of actual merit. As long as it's nothing like The Rise of Cobra all's well in the world. Marvel takes another jab at the Spider-man franchise with Spidy's latest outing in the form of The Amazing Spider-man (06 July 2012). Christopher Nolan's much-anticipated conclusion to his Batman trilogy, The Dark Knight Rising hits screens on 20 July 2012 and Peter Jackson takes us back to Middle-earth before Christmas in The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (14 December 2012). In between those we'll be seeing titles like The Expendables 2, World War Z, Resident Evil: Retribution, James Bond doing his Bond thing in Skyfall, Prometheus, Jack the Giant Killer and M.I.B 3 to mention a few.

All I can say is save your 3D glasses from The Avengers and expect the remainder of this year to be a great one at the movies.

Occasional Letters to Death #1

'It's funny but on good days I don't think of her so much. In fact never. I never just say hi when the sun is on my tongue and my belly's all warm. On bad days I talk to Death constantly, not about suicide because honestly that's not dramatic enough. Most of us love the stage and suicide is definitely your last performance and being addicted to the stage, suicide was never an option - plus people get to look you over and stare at your fatty bits and you can't cross your legs to give that flattering thigh angle and that's depressing. So we talk. She says things no one else seems to come up with, like let's have a hotdog and then it's like nothing's impossible.' - Tori Amos, Introduction to Neil Gaiman's Death: The High Cost of Living

"Mr Gaiman portrays you as a beautiful young woman with life bursting at the seams ..."

Hi, Charlie b3an-Champ here.

I like you, I think. I'm not sure with all the reaping you do on a daily basis. I like the manner in which Neil Gaiman embodies you, at any rate. I also like the manner in which Tori Amos speaks of you. I feel slightly uncomfortable at how cool you are when it's all said and done. You're even cool in Supernatural, what with your old-money swagger, that haunting song by Jen Titus as an intro and your cool conversations with Dean about reaping God. Gosh! You're even cool in Steven Erikson's The Malazan Book of the Fallen as Hood - who waits at the end of every scheme. You're supposed to be life's greatest enemy, the Grim Reaper and all the other scary personas. Mr Gaiman portrays you as a beautiful young woman with life bursting at the seams instead. Take the Greek pantheon as an example, no one likes Hades. He (you?) doesn't even like himself. If he were not Death he'd kill himself. Anyway, I digress. What I was saying is that I like you and that I'd like to talk to you once in a while. Even though you scare me. I want to learn from you about life. Ironic, I know, but I think you know stuff. I talk to God a lot and figure I might as well learn from you as well. Are you okay with that? We'll just talk. I'll buy you hotdogs. I bet you'd like that.

Old-money swagger.

'I know Death is somewhere inside of me. She was the kind of girl all the girls wanted to be, I believe, because of her acceptance of "what is." She keeps reminding me there is change in the "what is" but change cannot be made till you accept the "what is."'

I want to learn this, accepting "what is". I'm no good at that. Last year I was seeing a creepy raven haired Eastern European therapist who was good at listening to me. You'd like her. She listened more than other therapists because she was still new. She never really helped me resolve any issues but we talked and it was cool. I told her I have issues with dealing with reality and she agreed. The point is that even though I have a hard time dealing with reality it doesn't have a hard time dealing with me. Thus I must learn how to accept "what is". Then I can start being made into a better being.

"Nor was he known as a melodramatic god - the Lord of Death was reputed to be, if anything, ironically modest."

'Over the last few hours I've allowed myself to feel defeated, and just like she said if you allow yourself to feel the way you really feel, maybe you won't be afraid of that feeling anymore.'

I'm uncomfortable with feeling defeated and I don't like indulging the feeling but sometimes the machine just breaks and I descend into the circular ruins of my blasted mindscape. A dear friend of mine, Shannon, once told me that I need to 'feel' what I feel. That made me sad because if I 'felt' all I felt I fear I should burst. I'll give it a go and we'll see :).

I'm certain you and I can have good chats. I'll hit you up hey and I wasn't joking about those hotdogs, you'll get them.

Be cool.