So, it’ll be 2005 in a couple of days.  Wow!  I remember five
years ago, standing on the back porch at Windsor with everyone counting
down and raising glasses and holding our breath to see if the power
would go out, the computers would explode or civilization as we know it
would come to an end.  And I remember three years ago, when KJ’s
friends played in our basement.  The band was called
“Shitload.”  The name was appropriate.  What I remember of
their performance, and the song I think of as their “hit single,” was
“My Dick Is Pierced.” 

What a strange New Year’s that was.

At any rate, speaking of KJ, she has up a photoblog
It is extremely cool.  I have so many friends who are amazing
visual artists in one way or another – photographers, fabric artists,
illustrators, painters, sculptors, you name it.  The only “art” I
can do is with a keyboard – my web “design” even sucks – and that’s
half-assed at it’s best.  I am so, so glad to have artistic
friends.

I’m still slogging through Disinformation’s Book of Lies, and
it’s still fascinating and cautionary.  I’ve gotten past the
halfway mark, which means I’m knee-deep in weird-ass
cult-of-personality types like Crowley and Leary and such.  I have
a ton of ideas buzzing in my brain for a second half to Shell Access.  I have a ton of ideas for how Charles sees the world and how Ernesto sees the world and how they each interpret the Deus Ex Machina
and how others would interpret it and what they have to do to protect
it and contain it at the same time.  Does a caged bird sing if
it’s locked in a deprivation chamber and fed LSD its entire life? 
Charles has to find out.  Ernesto thinks he knows the
answer.  Jimmy just wants to make a buck.  Others just like
to kill, all their thoughts locked in their reptile brains.  I
think Charles may be destined to become a shaman of sorts – something
I’d kicked around as an idea for the first half of SA when I was doing
NaNo, but bailed on when I couldn’t keep it up to continue working on
it nonstop.  Now I have to sort out just what it might mean to him
to take on that role of outsider-teacher-diplomat-leader-untouchable.

I have a bunch of characters duking it out in my brain right now and
that means I have to put some of it on paper soon or I won’t be able to
sleep.  I’ve already had several nights of extremely bizarre
dreams – including last night’s, in which I was adopted into a family
of Chinese immigrants and accidentally decapitated my new little
brother, whose head was able to animate his corpse just long enough to
say his goodbyes before running away to live the life of a zombie while
I watched the Browns play the Rams in the Super Bowl.  That alone tells you it had to be a dream.

Too bad I won’t have time to do any writing at all for, I dunno, the
next couple of weeks.  It’s also good that I don’t write for
anything other than my own amusement.  I always think it sucks
complete ass.  That’s not a passive-aggressive plea for
compliments, that’s a simple acknowledgement that it relieves me of the
pressure of writing well. (more…)