I've been watching Euro 2008 for the past week and a half or so. For those of you who don't know, the Euro tournament is like the World Cup but for European teams only. One could argue that the Euro Cup finals are harder than the World Cup itself since every team is extremely strong as opposed to the, being realistic, the relatively weak African and Asian teams. While some of the teams are strong (Senegal and S. Korea come to recent memory), over all they are weak, especially compared to a European only tournament. Anyway, not surprisingly, I am a huge Spain fan, and they beat Italy 4-2 in penalty kicks after regular time was tied 0-0. Certainly nerve-wracking for a Spain fan considering their penchant for crashing in big tournaments. However, they finally cracked the quarterfinals and are on to play Russia, a team they killed in the group stages, but it's the semi-finals and you can't take anything for granted with the Finals on the line. Anyway, the point of the entry isn't to talk about this Spain-Italy game, but rather the last Spain-Italy game I saw, World Cup 1994.
So 1994...Year the World Cup was in the US (I went to a Saudi Arabia-Morocco game with my dad. Don't remember anything about it except that there were a bunch of ethnic fans, I say that because I don't remember what country they rooted from at the time, and they were playing drums and such and it was awesome.) and the first time that I was sent to sleep away camp. Except, I wasn't like every other 11-year old being sent away to sleep away camp, I went to sleep away camp in Spain which is an interesting experience because sleep away camp is an interesting enough experience without it being in a language I was semi-capable in. I will say that my parents didn't completely abandon me to the wolves. I technically did the camp with the son of a family friend of my parents who I was friends with. However, he slept in a 2 bunk room with a friend of his and I joined up in the 6 bed room with some guys I didn't know. Probably my first real independent experience, and I think I passed it pretty well. There is actually another fun story from that sleep away camp, but you'll have to ask me about it another time. Overall, it was a pretty good experience. I think it was for about a week, met some cool people, did some neat things, and was probably the first time I really started to notice girls in a non-cootie way. Back on track, soccer, I'm sorry fútbol, in Spain, like many other European countries, is a huge deal, and one of the things I did with some of my camp friends was watch fútbol, including the Spain-Italy quarterfinal match. I don't remember much of that match, but I do distinctly remember Spain losing 2-1 and, more specifically, remember a Spanish player getting cracked in the face by an Italian player in the box, necessitating a penalty shot, that was not called. Now, to describe how egregious of a blown call this was, the Spanish player had blood streaming down his face from the elbow ot the face. It's not like he took a dive or something, he got fucked up. To make things worse, this was fairly late in the game, so that penalty shot, and presumed goal, would have changed the landscape of the game, sending it to extra time and a possible Spanish victory. Also would have changed the landscape of history since Italy went on to beat Brazil in penalty kicks in the final game. That game is also imprinted on my mind because I was watching it with my abuelo and he somehow predicted every single penalty shot. To this day, I can't figure out how he did it because I'm pretty sure we were watching the match live.
Anyway, I think back on that whole sleep away experience as my first really good memory of Spain. Not to say that Spain was a bad experience, but most of my time in Spain on vacation was spent in la casa de mis abuelos doing not a whole lot. Really, until I met my peña in Marcilla I didn't have a lot of fun Spain memories. Sure, it sounds great that I went to Spain every summer, but my immediate family was small and most of my primos, and I use that term in the loose way that Spanish always uses family terms with virtually no attempts to distinguish degrees of separation, were older than I was and didn't live near boy so I didn't spend much time with them. Also, I didn't speak the language well until high school, so that played into the difficulty of enjoying Spain. Anyway, the point being that sleep away camp in a foreign country speaking a language I was okay at, could have been a very intimidating and sucky experience. Instead, it was pretty fun and paved the way to the future awesomeness that was my Spanish experience in high school. Today's Spain-Italy game brought back those memories, and I thought it would be fun to share with whomever actually reads this blog.
Music listed to while writing this entry: Girando bari-Ojos de brujo Nouveau Flamenco music that I think is pretty cool.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Edumacation
So, sometimes I feel that every once and a while people need to be reminded as to what this country was founded on and what makes it GRRR-eat compared to many other countries in the world. I'm not saying I agree with everything this country does, but permissible dissent is one of the things that this country was founded on. It's not always intelligent dissent, but among the many freedoms of this country, unintelligent dissent is one of them.
I was watching this I-report on CNN.com about how California is now allowing same-sex marriages. There was a nice little fluff piece yesterday about this lesbian couple who'd been together for like 50 years, spearheaded lesbian acceptance groups in California, and other good things that really shouldn't be as difficult to create as they were/are. They were the first couple to be given a marriage license the last time San Francisco issued them before the courts stepped in, and they were one of the first to get the new ones. Good for them.
The video isn't particularly comprehensive, but it does show the Yolo Country Office issuing marriage licenses, and, more importantly, some guy protesting the issuing of said licenses. Now again, I don't have problem with protests. Among the things that this country is based is freedom of speech. Let him protest. Whatever. What I take issue with is when he says that his religion thinks that homosexuality is a sin and therefore it is illegal. Okay...strict Christianity does hold that homosexuality is wrong and a sin. Fine. It probably also finds many other aspects of our society highly sinful. I don't know my Christian doctrine; I don't profess to being a religion expert, but I'm willing to bet money that many other once “sinful” activities have since been modernized to not be nearly as sinful. The fact that they pick homosexuality as one of the sins to not get modernized is annoying.
What really annoys me though is that because homosexuality is a sin, it is therefore illegal in this country. WHAT!!!! One of the things that most people seem to forget is that one of the founding principles is a separation of church and state. The point being that there is no official religion in this country meaning you can believe anything you want and by extension you can't infringe one person's or group's religious beliefs on others. I always get annoyed when people find religious convictions and beliefs to be important in their political candidates. Their religion is not supposed to affect your laws! I don't understand why people think this is a good thing. The Founding Fathers (Go TJ!) knew this was a bad idea so they wrote it in to the Bill of Rights. Why people want someone else's beliefs to determine their life is beyond me. Back on topic...You can't have Christian belief as the basis of law. That would be unconstitutional and unfair to non-Christian believers or even Christian believers who don't think homosexuality is a sin.
There were also comment posters saying that they should put homosexual marriage up for (to?) state-wide referendum. That is also just as idiotic. Now, I know that the idea of democracy is put on a pedestal, and I think that democracy is for the most part a good thing, but sometimes the democratic method isn't ideal. One of the few things that I learned in my Latin American politics seminars (and there were very few things I actually learned in those classes) was that democracy is actually the negative popular government. (I think plutocracy is the positive) Now that seems weird, but a democracy is actually a vote by the majority in the interest of that majority. Ideally you'd want the majority to vote in the interest of everybody, but they don't. So even if you put it up for referendum, you still only get a decision that favors the people who voted for the majority decision. Don't ask me how they should vote or how it should be decided, mayhaps it depends on the thought process of the people voting, whether if they are voting in the interests of everybody or just themselves. Either way, referendum voting doesn't really solve anything, it just gives you another opinion that not everyone will agree with.
To sum up since I'm not even completely sure how I got to the last paragraph: If people want to get married, regardless of sexual orientation, then let them get married. They aren't going to suddenly make you marry someone of the same sex. 2nd...On top of that, you can't base law on religious belief. The Bill of Rights forbids it. Not everyone has that same belief so to enforce something they don't believe on them is no different from any other dictatorial society. The point of this country is that everyone is free to believe what they want, regardless of how popular or common that belief is. 3rd) Um...there really isn't a third point except that...well, I'm awesome. I hope all that made sense.
Music listened to while writing this semi-ramble: Some Made Hope-Matt Nathanson
I was watching this I-report on CNN.com about how California is now allowing same-sex marriages. There was a nice little fluff piece yesterday about this lesbian couple who'd been together for like 50 years, spearheaded lesbian acceptance groups in California, and other good things that really shouldn't be as difficult to create as they were/are. They were the first couple to be given a marriage license the last time San Francisco issued them before the courts stepped in, and they were one of the first to get the new ones. Good for them.
The video isn't particularly comprehensive, but it does show the Yolo Country Office issuing marriage licenses, and, more importantly, some guy protesting the issuing of said licenses. Now again, I don't have problem with protests. Among the things that this country is based is freedom of speech. Let him protest. Whatever. What I take issue with is when he says that his religion thinks that homosexuality is a sin and therefore it is illegal. Okay...strict Christianity does hold that homosexuality is wrong and a sin. Fine. It probably also finds many other aspects of our society highly sinful. I don't know my Christian doctrine; I don't profess to being a religion expert, but I'm willing to bet money that many other once “sinful” activities have since been modernized to not be nearly as sinful. The fact that they pick homosexuality as one of the sins to not get modernized is annoying.
What really annoys me though is that because homosexuality is a sin, it is therefore illegal in this country. WHAT!!!! One of the things that most people seem to forget is that one of the founding principles is a separation of church and state. The point being that there is no official religion in this country meaning you can believe anything you want and by extension you can't infringe one person's or group's religious beliefs on others. I always get annoyed when people find religious convictions and beliefs to be important in their political candidates. Their religion is not supposed to affect your laws! I don't understand why people think this is a good thing. The Founding Fathers (Go TJ!) knew this was a bad idea so they wrote it in to the Bill of Rights. Why people want someone else's beliefs to determine their life is beyond me. Back on topic...You can't have Christian belief as the basis of law. That would be unconstitutional and unfair to non-Christian believers or even Christian believers who don't think homosexuality is a sin.
There were also comment posters saying that they should put homosexual marriage up for (to?) state-wide referendum. That is also just as idiotic. Now, I know that the idea of democracy is put on a pedestal, and I think that democracy is for the most part a good thing, but sometimes the democratic method isn't ideal. One of the few things that I learned in my Latin American politics seminars (and there were very few things I actually learned in those classes) was that democracy is actually the negative popular government. (I think plutocracy is the positive) Now that seems weird, but a democracy is actually a vote by the majority in the interest of that majority. Ideally you'd want the majority to vote in the interest of everybody, but they don't. So even if you put it up for referendum, you still only get a decision that favors the people who voted for the majority decision. Don't ask me how they should vote or how it should be decided, mayhaps it depends on the thought process of the people voting, whether if they are voting in the interests of everybody or just themselves. Either way, referendum voting doesn't really solve anything, it just gives you another opinion that not everyone will agree with.
To sum up since I'm not even completely sure how I got to the last paragraph: If people want to get married, regardless of sexual orientation, then let them get married. They aren't going to suddenly make you marry someone of the same sex. 2nd...On top of that, you can't base law on religious belief. The Bill of Rights forbids it. Not everyone has that same belief so to enforce something they don't believe on them is no different from any other dictatorial society. The point of this country is that everyone is free to believe what they want, regardless of how popular or common that belief is. 3rd) Um...there really isn't a third point except that...well, I'm awesome. I hope all that made sense.
Music listened to while writing this semi-ramble: Some Made Hope-Matt Nathanson
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Good News!
So...I don't know if you've heard the good news yet, but I got a job offer. :D I'm pretty psyched about it. It's for an academic publishing company called Lexington Books, a division of Rowman and Littlefield, and my official position is called Associate Acquisitions Editor. Basically, I'm going to be in charge of a couple of subject sets, currently sociology and literature with a third coming my way once I figure out what I'm doing. I think it might be religion. Within those subject sets, I'm in charge of reading proposals submitted by mostly junior professors hoping to get their first or one of their first books published. I'm not actually in charge of determining the pure academic validity of their books. They contract professors in those fields to do that. However, I am in charge of making sure that those proposals sort of fit into what we want published and that they aren't completely ludicrous. Then I create contracts for these books and have to follow up on them to make sure that these books are getting completed if they aren't complete yet. Also, currently their literature set is pretty small and I'll be in charge of aggressively trying to expand it. It's pretty much one of the ideal things I thought of doing in the publishing world. That being said, it's in Lanham, MD, which, if you think of the beltway as a clock, is about 3 o'clock. Basically I'm going from one suburban area to another. Not exactly my ideal job location, but I can deal with it. I'm going to have to spend a day sort of driving around and getting a sense of how far it is from other places/driving around the area to see what's there. If anybody knows anything about west DC or that Maryland area, please let me know.
I haven't officially accepted yet as I'm waiting to get the benefits information from them first, but there's virtually no way that I'm going to reject the offer. I just want to make sure that I'm making an informed decision and know what I'm getting into first. I'll be starting on June 23rd, and they'll be sending me out to the big sociology conference in Boston the first week of August. This also means that I'll get to go to the wedding I was hoping to go to in Spain the first week of September. Super psyched for that.
Other than that, I've had a pretty good past few days. Met up with some UVa chaps Friday night, helped my friend Alex celebrate his 26th birthday on Saturday (He's ye olde), and saw an old friend of mine who's currently living in Spain for the first time in 4 years for brunch with his parents on Sunday. They are very old family friends. Dan's actually a year older than I am, and it's his sister whose wedding I'll be going to in Marbella in September. Also, I went and watched the US-Argentina friendly with T at this awesome place called Babylon Fútbol Cafe in Falls Church. I was pretty impressed that the game ended in a 0-0 draw. I expected a bloodbath, and it looked like would be because in the beginning. Argentina was just too fast for the US. That being said, the US defense held and Howard played well but as the game played on, it became painfully obvious that the US simply lacks a premier striker. I understand that neither Ching or Twellman, perhaps 2 of the best American-born strikers in MLS, were called up, but that line up they fielded against Argentina just isn'tt going to cut it. It's time Eddie Johnson gets demoted from being the starter because he can't do shite. Lastly, I've been watching Euro 2008, that's like the World Cup but for just Europe, and felt an incredible amount of glee when I watched Spain demolish the Russians 4-1 on Tuesday, including a David Villa hat trick. It was actually pretty dicey early on, but towards the end, La Furia Roja simply showed why they are the 4th ranked team in the world. Let's just hope they keep it up.
Until next time.
Music listened to while writing this post: Viva la Vida or Death and all his Friends-Coldplay. That's right. I downloaded an advance copy. :P If anyone wants it, let me know and I'll make you a copy.
I haven't officially accepted yet as I'm waiting to get the benefits information from them first, but there's virtually no way that I'm going to reject the offer. I just want to make sure that I'm making an informed decision and know what I'm getting into first. I'll be starting on June 23rd, and they'll be sending me out to the big sociology conference in Boston the first week of August. This also means that I'll get to go to the wedding I was hoping to go to in Spain the first week of September. Super psyched for that.
Other than that, I've had a pretty good past few days. Met up with some UVa chaps Friday night, helped my friend Alex celebrate his 26th birthday on Saturday (He's ye olde), and saw an old friend of mine who's currently living in Spain for the first time in 4 years for brunch with his parents on Sunday. They are very old family friends. Dan's actually a year older than I am, and it's his sister whose wedding I'll be going to in Marbella in September. Also, I went and watched the US-Argentina friendly with T at this awesome place called Babylon Fútbol Cafe in Falls Church. I was pretty impressed that the game ended in a 0-0 draw. I expected a bloodbath, and it looked like would be because in the beginning. Argentina was just too fast for the US. That being said, the US defense held and Howard played well but as the game played on, it became painfully obvious that the US simply lacks a premier striker. I understand that neither Ching or Twellman, perhaps 2 of the best American-born strikers in MLS, were called up, but that line up they fielded against Argentina just isn'tt going to cut it. It's time Eddie Johnson gets demoted from being the starter because he can't do shite. Lastly, I've been watching Euro 2008, that's like the World Cup but for just Europe, and felt an incredible amount of glee when I watched Spain demolish the Russians 4-1 on Tuesday, including a David Villa hat trick. It was actually pretty dicey early on, but towards the end, La Furia Roja simply showed why they are the 4th ranked team in the world. Let's just hope they keep it up.
Until next time.
Music listened to while writing this post: Viva la Vida or Death and all his Friends-Coldplay. That's right. I downloaded an advance copy. :P If anyone wants it, let me know and I'll make you a copy.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
The Return!!!!!
So, it's been over a month since I've last posted anything, though really much longer since the last few postings were some creative stories. I actually have felt quite guilty about not writing anything recently, so I'm forcing myself to start writing again. I actually have a couple of books to review, so that should get done in the near future.
To sort of sum up how the last month has been, I haven't really done much of anything. I've of course been applying to jobs, but haven't really had any hits. Well...that's not completely true. I do have an interview tomorrow with Lexington Books in Lanham, MD. Played around on the web site for a bit, and it seems pretty cool. It's an academic humanities publisher meaning that most of the books they publisher are academia based in a variety of topics that are all pretty interesting to me. History, Politics, Literature, Psychology, etc, etc. Hopefully it'll go well. You who know me know that I'm very good in person, and I keep telling myself that just give me three interviews and I'll have a job. Well, this here's the third interview, so... One of the things I've given a lot of thought about is my interviews and my answers. I mean, “Tell us a little bit about yourself” is the most difficult and annoying question to answer, and, thinking back to my first interview, I think I gave a disaster of a response. I think I've got a really good idea in my head of a response now, I just get worried that in my attempts to give that answer, my mind will go off on another tangent and I'll leave out all the good bits I thought hard about.
I've taken a good amount of time sort of thinking a lot about this job search, and its frustrations. I just wish I knew why I can't get call backs. In a way, I feel like I'm stuck in limbo. I don't really have the job experience that goes along with my education level and the salary it commands, but said education level also makes me overqualified for the entry level positions that my experience level dictates I apply to. Sigh. I interviewed at a temp agency recently and asked my resume handler exactly a question about that sort of thing: How does my graduate degree translate to experience? She couldn't even give me a definitive answer which was annoying. Maybe I'm selling myself short by not demanding more money when they ask for salary requirements, but I feel that I need to undercut my position in order to not price myself out of these jobs. Of course, the job market is still weak so there aren't even a lot of jobs out there. Just have to keep plugging away. Still, Starbucks is becoming very appealing right now, even though they fired my sister...bastards.
Otherwise, I've felt very lethargic in the past month. I haven't gotten inspired to learn that many new guitar songs in the last month. A couple of Incubus songs, but not much else. I haven't done very much reading either. Once I finished the Fountainhead, I sort of took a break. Well, not completely, I then had to do my McSweeney's reading which I'd been putting off, but then once I did finish it (not a very good batch this time I must say though one was pretty creative), I sat on it for like 2 and a half weeks before sending in my recommendations. Not particularly responsible on my part. I haven't really done any creative writing either or gone back and worked on those stories. I haven't really been struck with a sudden awesome idea. I sat done one or twice and starting writing, but it just felt like crap and I stopped. Or rather, it felt very cliché. I think part of the point of those two stories were that they were meant to be a little different. Walter's Story certainly posed an interesting idea, and Runaway Fist was meant to sort of reflect my own interesting way of talking/saying ludicrous things to get a reaction. Walter's Story was also meant to reflect this from a narratorial perspective. I'm just having difficulty figuring out how to combine those things into a modern story that isn't pure dialogue. (PS. It's raining so hard right now that I can barely see out my window. I hope it stops. I'm supposed to go into DC tonight.) I've been looking at some of the stories and books I've been reading and examining how they do it when the author writes in a way similar to how I want to. I'd really like to take a creative writing class and see what they have to say, but that is one of those wants as opposed to needs, so I'm going to hold off on that. Either way, I hope to get back into it soon because I do enjoy it. Hopefully, once I get a job and I'm back in a situation where I need to use my brain again, I can break this lethargy. Until then, just trying to stay strong and positive.
Think that'll about do it for now. I'll write again soon.
Music listened to while writing this post: Andy Mckee
To sort of sum up how the last month has been, I haven't really done much of anything. I've of course been applying to jobs, but haven't really had any hits. Well...that's not completely true. I do have an interview tomorrow with Lexington Books in Lanham, MD. Played around on the web site for a bit, and it seems pretty cool. It's an academic humanities publisher meaning that most of the books they publisher are academia based in a variety of topics that are all pretty interesting to me. History, Politics, Literature, Psychology, etc, etc. Hopefully it'll go well. You who know me know that I'm very good in person, and I keep telling myself that just give me three interviews and I'll have a job. Well, this here's the third interview, so... One of the things I've given a lot of thought about is my interviews and my answers. I mean, “Tell us a little bit about yourself” is the most difficult and annoying question to answer, and, thinking back to my first interview, I think I gave a disaster of a response. I think I've got a really good idea in my head of a response now, I just get worried that in my attempts to give that answer, my mind will go off on another tangent and I'll leave out all the good bits I thought hard about.
I've taken a good amount of time sort of thinking a lot about this job search, and its frustrations. I just wish I knew why I can't get call backs. In a way, I feel like I'm stuck in limbo. I don't really have the job experience that goes along with my education level and the salary it commands, but said education level also makes me overqualified for the entry level positions that my experience level dictates I apply to. Sigh. I interviewed at a temp agency recently and asked my resume handler exactly a question about that sort of thing: How does my graduate degree translate to experience? She couldn't even give me a definitive answer which was annoying. Maybe I'm selling myself short by not demanding more money when they ask for salary requirements, but I feel that I need to undercut my position in order to not price myself out of these jobs. Of course, the job market is still weak so there aren't even a lot of jobs out there. Just have to keep plugging away. Still, Starbucks is becoming very appealing right now, even though they fired my sister...bastards.
Otherwise, I've felt very lethargic in the past month. I haven't gotten inspired to learn that many new guitar songs in the last month. A couple of Incubus songs, but not much else. I haven't done very much reading either. Once I finished the Fountainhead, I sort of took a break. Well, not completely, I then had to do my McSweeney's reading which I'd been putting off, but then once I did finish it (not a very good batch this time I must say though one was pretty creative), I sat on it for like 2 and a half weeks before sending in my recommendations. Not particularly responsible on my part. I haven't really done any creative writing either or gone back and worked on those stories. I haven't really been struck with a sudden awesome idea. I sat done one or twice and starting writing, but it just felt like crap and I stopped. Or rather, it felt very cliché. I think part of the point of those two stories were that they were meant to be a little different. Walter's Story certainly posed an interesting idea, and Runaway Fist was meant to sort of reflect my own interesting way of talking/saying ludicrous things to get a reaction. Walter's Story was also meant to reflect this from a narratorial perspective. I'm just having difficulty figuring out how to combine those things into a modern story that isn't pure dialogue. (PS. It's raining so hard right now that I can barely see out my window. I hope it stops. I'm supposed to go into DC tonight.) I've been looking at some of the stories and books I've been reading and examining how they do it when the author writes in a way similar to how I want to. I'd really like to take a creative writing class and see what they have to say, but that is one of those wants as opposed to needs, so I'm going to hold off on that. Either way, I hope to get back into it soon because I do enjoy it. Hopefully, once I get a job and I'm back in a situation where I need to use my brain again, I can break this lethargy. Until then, just trying to stay strong and positive.
Think that'll about do it for now. I'll write again soon.
Music listened to while writing this post: Andy Mckee
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Walter's Story
Here's the other, much longer story that I wrote. This one definitely needs a lot more work, so any feedback is much appreciated. Oh, and I still haven't really titled it, so any suggestions are welcome as well.
Walter found himself in a bit of a pickle. Not a real pickle, mind you. That would just be ridiculous. A better analogy would be to say that he was between a rock and a hard place. Only in this instance, his back was really against a rock, and the hard place was more like hard steel. Things did not look particularly good for Walter.
His opponent was formidable. It was obvious that he was a very experienced knight. His armor wasn’t nearly as bright and shiny as Walter’s was, nor was his blade nearly as sharp. It looked plain and very simple, but, unfortunately for Walter, quite strong. There were a few old dents in the side, and one very recent one from when Walter hit the knight when he wasn’t looking. That was what got Walter into this near-death position in the first place.
It’s not that Walter had never been in a battle before. In fact, he’d won his fair share of battles, and even killed in a few of them. Walter was the first and only son of a second-rate nobleman who was conned into some third-rate land, and he still thought he got a good deal out of it. Walter was looking forward to inheriting that land, lazing away drinking wine and chasing skirts. Walter couldn’t wait to grow old and rich while everyone else did the work.
Walter didn’t grow up alone though. He did have a bunch of sisters. Older sisters. Bigger sisters. Sisters who forced Walter to play their silly games, dressing him in all sorts of outrageous outfits and making him kiss the family pig. In the stories they created, the pig always turned into a handsome prince that married one of the sisters, depending on whose turn it was. Walter never did understand why he was the one who had to kiss the pig. If he kissed the pig, it should obviously turn into a princess, one with a big castle where he could drink wine and chase skirts. He didn’t really care if the princess was beautiful or not. He just wanted a castle. Walter did enjoy the outfits though. All the bright colors and patterns that made no sense. It made Walter feel frivolous. In reality, Walter didn’t know what frivolous meant, but it was the biggest word he knew how to say, so he tried to use it as often as he could. Walter’s father thought he looked like a sissy.
Walter’s father, whose name was also Walter, tried to make a man out of Walter. Walter taught Walter to fish, hunt, ride a horse, fight, and all sort of other skills one of his blood was due. Um…Walter the father taught Walter the son all those things. Right, this could get confusing. I think we’ll just call Walter the father W1 and Walter the son W2 for this part of the story. Of all the skills that W2 learned from his father, the activity he practiced the most was sword fighting. It made W2 feel strong and powerful; his noble blood pumping through his veins. Also, it got him out of playing kiss the pig with his sisters. In W1’s eyes, W2 became quite adept at the things he had been taught. W1 had great visions of his son winning the family glory and riches, allowing them to move up a whole peg to 1st rate nobles on 2nd rate land!
Alas, W1 was not nearly as good at these noble skills as he thought he was, and he was a much worse teacher. W2 learned the skills to the best of his limited ability, and used his skills to win his fair share of battles. Granted, most of these battles were against trees that couldn’t fight back and the rest against bound pigs he had to slaughter, but in W2’s mind, they were evil wizards and dragons, so it still counted. W2’s problem wasn’t that he was bad. That can always be fixed. His problem was that he didn’t realize that he was bad. People say that ignorance is bliss. In this case, ignorance could get you killed. The only people within miles of his land were the servants, and they knew nothing about these noble skills. After all, they were not noble. They did know a fool when they saw him though and would often mock W2 behind his back.
After years of perfecting mediocrity, W2 decided it was time to go out into the world and earn riches, save princesses, and chase skirts. Not wishing to see his son go out unprotected, W1 commissioned a brand new suit of armor for his son to wear, with intricate metalwork meant to strike fear in the hearts of his enemies. His mother, always congnizant of the family’s financial situation, made sure that W1 brought the coupon she had cut out of the weekly circulator when he went to pay for it. W2’s family waved to him as he rode out to explore the world, wishing him luck, praying for riches, and hoping he remembered to come back alive.
The world was very different then what Walter expected. At this point we can safely assume that all references to Walter can only refer to Walter the son. The world was much bigger, things were a lot farther apart, and the woman were much uglier. But the worst part of it was that there weren’t any adventures to go on. Walter expected ample opportunities to go adventuring, and he was thouroughly disappointed. Still, he looked like a noble knight in fancy armor, so the peasants in the towns he visited showed him some matter of respect.
That is, until he ran into another knight as he was traveling; a knight with not nearly as fancy armor as his own. To Walter, a knight’s standing was evident through his appearance, not his actions. Seeing this unknown knight in dented armor, Walter fully expected the knight to show him the respect his appearance demanded. The other knight just ignored Walter, barely even seeing him in the glare off the pristine armor. Offended, Walter drew his sword, as if to show that he was a knight to be respected. Walter also prayed that the other knight would be convinced enough to not fight back. The knight knew the actions of an amateur when he saw one, and not wishing to have a laugh escape his lips, the knight merely passed Walter silently. Angered at this knights lack of respect, Walter smacked the offender with the flat of his blade hard enough to add another dent in the used armor. Did I mention that Walter wasn’t particularly bright?
Surprisingly, Walter was holding his own. Oh, he was still in a pickle, but he was alive which, for someone of his ability, was quite impressive. Walter’s main problem, outside of his inexperience, was that his arms were getting tired. They’d been fighting for quite some time, and, while it was easy for him to take a break when he was fighting a tree, I mean an evil wizard, Walter had a sneaking suspicion that his opponent would not agree to break for a cup of tea. It was at this moment, while Walter was holding off a rather violent flurry from his homicidal opponent, that Walter slipped and ended up leaning against the wall.
Walter knew this was bad. If he was standing up, Walter at least had a remote chance of running away. On the ground, he was a turtle. A very tired turtle, lying on its shell with little chance of getting up quickly. The offended knight lept at the opportunity to finish off Walter, and in his homicidal rage, jumped up to land the killing blow. Walter was definitely scared and was pretty sure that he could see death foaming at the mouth. At this moment, it occurred to Walter that perhaps the other knight had been bitten by a rabid animal which would explain his sudden mood swing from disrespectful to homicidal. No life flashing before his eyes, no prayers for salvation to God, just a mental note not to pick a fight with a person with rabies. The next thing Walter knew, the other knight was lying dead on the ground with all but the hilt and a few inches of Walter’s sword in his body.
Walter was ecstatic. He didn’t know how, but he was alive which he thought was a good thing considering that he was pretty sure that wasn’t a likely outcome of the battle. For years, Walter would tell the story of how he killed the knight. As with any good story, it would be slightly embellished with each telling until Walter would recount how he had either killed a giant or 4 heavily armed knights on horses with one arm, the other one having been chopped off by a fifth, already dead knight, depending on Walter’s mood and alcoholic intake. At this point, someone generally pointed out to Walter that he still had both arms, making it rather difficult for it to have been chopped off since it was still attached. Walter insisted indignantly that his arm had grown back. The reality was that, while Walter was pondering what sort of rabid animal had bitten his opponent, some instict had caused him to lift his sword up. The semi-victorious knight, in his rabid rage, ran right onto the sword, body first, and, shocked to find half a sword in his body, promptly fell over and died, leaving Walter to survive. It was actually quite a considerate thing to do since Walter was not looking forward to his seemingly inevitable death. Exhausted from the fight, Walter stood up, brushed himself off, removed his sword from his recently deceased opponent, and said:
“I didn’t slip. I fell on purpose.”
Walter had recently taken to talking to himself or rather, it seemed to others that he was having a conversation with someone that only he could hear. The anonymous people of the towns he rode through often wondered if the stranger in the ridiculous armor was crazy.
“I’m not talking to myself, and I can’t have a conversation with someone who never talks back to me, now can I? I can’t help it if I hear a really annoying voice that tells any number of lies about me. I’m just trying to set the facts straight. It would seem that no one else hears this voice, but I’ll be damned if that’s going to make me have to listen to lies.”
A few more religious people in these towns wondered if Walter was perhaps a prophet, talking to a diety about the fate of the town. In order to curry favor with this potential prophet, they would send him gifts of food and wine. Walter graciously accepted their offers, believing that the people were treating him the way a knight aught to be treated. Rest assured, Walter was not a prophet. He just talked to himself all the time. Most people thought he was crazy.
“So that’s why they gave me all that food and wine! I have to admit that most of it wasn’t of particularly good quality, but it was better than the dried meats I had in my pack. If they had really wanted to curry favor with an alleged prophet, they should have sent me their daughters. Not that it really would have mattered, I’m not a prophet. I’m just a guy who hears an annoying voice in his head narrating every thing I do. On top of that, he doesn’t even tell it right. I was winning the fight the whole time. I was just letting the other guy think he had a chance. I fell on purpose to bring him closer to me so I could kill him. I do agree that it certainly looked like he had rabies though. I don’t know why else he wouldn’t properly show me respect.”
It was generally thought that talking to oneself was not in fact a sign of insanity. Many people talked to themselves while doing some activity, usually as a way to pass the time and stay entertained. However, people did think that conversing with oneself was a sign insanity, and Walter definitely seemed to be having a conversation with someone. It was beginning to get quite worrisome.
“…Walter definitely seemed to be having a conversation with someone. It was beginning to get quite worrisome. Oh, shut up already! It’s getting hard to hear myself think.”
No one could discern who Walter was talking to.
“I’m talking to you, you dolt, whomever you are! Ever since I left my house, you’ve been following me around, narrating everything I do. I know what just happened. I was the one doing it. Not to mention all the horrible lies you’ve been telling about me. I did not like dressing up! It’s not very knightly. Just shut up already!”
This was beginning to get disturbing.
“I should say so. You try having a voice follow you every where you go.”
Who are you talking to?
“Are you not paying attention? I’m talking to you, you stupid voice.”
You can hear me?
“What? Did you honestly think I was hearing voices? I heard one voice, yours. Only time I ever got a break from you was when I was sleeping. Narrating sleep isn’t very interesting, is it?”
You’re not supposed to hear me. No one’s ever heard me before.
“There are others?! Damn, I was at least hoping that I was the only one to have a voice follow them. Now, I’m not even special. And how can they not hear you? I would think that they couldn’t help but hear an annoying, voice that talks funny repeating everything they’ve just done.”
I don’t talk funny.
“Have you ever heard yourself speak?”
Of course.
“Well, then you know what I’m talking about.”
My voice is perfectly normal.
“Whatever. Don’t believe me. I’m just the one who hears you speak all the time. Look, can you just leave me alone?”
Sorry. I’m just doing what I’m told. I don’t really have a choice. It’s my job to tell the story.
“What do you mean, it’s your job to tell the story? It’s my life! You just tell what I’m doing anyway. All you have to do is stop speaking.”
It doesn’t work that way.
“Fine, then I’m just going to stand here and do nothing. If I don’t do anything, then you don’t have anything to tell.”
Walter stuck his tongue out at nobody in particular. He didn’t exactly know where the voice was coming from, so he just picked a direction and hoped the voice could see it. Walter wondered if voices had eyes. Deciding that it didn’t really matter, Walter leaned up against a tree and did nothing.
“STOP THAT! I’m not doing anything. You can’t narrate nothing! Who has ever heard a story where the guy does nothing? Not me, that’s for sure.”
Walter continued to do nothing. Occasionally this nothing was broken by yelling into the air at nothing in particular.
“I’m not yelling at nothing. I’m yelling at you. You really are an idiot.”
Look, I don’t really have a say in this. I speak and you do something. That’s how it works.
“What do you mean, you do what you’re told? Is there someone else there? Hey! Other person!
Will you tell him to shut up already? Besides, you always talk after I’ve done something, never before. Maybe you’re the crazy one, following respectable knights around and repeating everything they just did, as if they didn’t know?”
No…it just seems to you that I’m talking after you’ve done something. You’re so busy doing whatever it is that you’re doing that you don’t actually hear me until after the fact. At least, I think that’s how it works. Normally I don’t get into a conversation with the character I’m talking about.
“Okay…this is just getting weird. Obviously, I’m the one doing things, so you respond to me.”
I can’t even see you. I responded to an ad in the paper for a person who could tell stories well. I’ve always felt comfortable talking to people, have really good diction, and can do voices, so I got the job. The only reason you can’t hear me when you go to sleep is because you going to sleep magically happens to coincide with the end of my shift. You can’t have a story without someone telling it, so you just conveniently go to sleep.
“So, you’re telling a story about me?”
Not exactly. I was told to just sit here in my cubicle and speak. I’m not really making up the story though. The words just come out of my mouth on their own. I don’t know what frivolous means either. I’ll admit it’s a little weird, but the pay is good.
“So someone else wrote the story, and you read it?”
Were you not listening? I’m not reading anything. The words just come out of my mouth. The sign in the lobby says something about the voice being a vehicle.
“Who are you telling the story to anyway? Is anyone really that interested in what I’m doing?”
No idea. I clock in, sit down, and when the green light comes on, the words just start coming out of my mouth.
“That’s weird.”
You’re telling me. Try speaking without thinking. Wait…I’ve told enough of your story to know better than to say that.
“Very funny. Well, can’t you just not talk when the green light comes on. I mean, there’s no one making you talk.”
Technically not, but my paycheck gives me some pretty good incentive to do my job. Also, if I don’t narrate, I don’t think you can actually do anything.
“How do you know that? I don’t act just because you say so. You’re not all powerful. You don’t even know what frivolous means. You’re just a –what did you call it again?– a vehicle. What’s a vehicle?”
It’s sort of like a horse-drawn cart without the horse that still moves. I’m not exactly sure how that applies to story-telling, but I’m not paid to think. You’ve distracted me long enough. I need to get back to telling the story.
Walter crossed his arms and looked indignantly at no one in particular.
“Oh, that reminds me. Why is my name Walter? That’s not a very noble sounding name. Why can’t it be something memorable like… Aleren. Sir Aleren. That sounds much better. You don’t even call me Sir Walter. Just Walter and that whole W1, W2 thing. I thought that was really disrespectful. Do you want to end up like that knight?”
You really are quite thick, you realize that? I didn’t name you. You were named, and I spoke that name. That’s how it works. Enough with this foolishness.
“No.”
You tried this already. It didn’t work last time and it’s not going to work this time either.
“It’ll work if you do your part. Just get up and leave. I don’t know. Take a break. Go have a beer. You do have beer wherever you’re from, right?”
It’s 10 in the morning here.
“You’re point being?”
It’s too early to have a drink.
“Is the closest bar open?”
Um…yes. I get breakfast there sometimes.
“Then it’s not too early to have a drink.”
You’re really quite persistent, aren’t you?
“I just want to stop hearing voices.”
You have quite a way with words, do you realize that?
“What? Whatever. Just leave me alone. If you’re gone for 5 minutes, what’s the worst that could happen? He’s still dead and there’s no one around for miles.”
Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’ll be back.
“Finally, some peace of mind. Wait…let me test this out. You’re not still there, are you?”
…
“He really left. And I can still do stuff. Sweet. See…I didn’t need him. So why am I still talking to myself? Let me get out of here, things will be easier once I’m moving. Plus, I don’t really want to explain why there’s a dead body over there.”
“Um…where am I going? Usually I just start riding and the voice sort of clues me in on where I’m going. Why couldn’t someone have put a sign on this damn road. I think I’ll go that way.”
“This usually goes a lot faster. One minute I’m riding through a mountain pass, the next, I’m at some town. Actually doing the riding is pretty boring and long.”
“I think I’m starting to get some chafing.”
“Okay…this just sucks. Hey. Hey! Are you there? Can you help me out? Speed this up a bit or at least tell me where I’m going.”
…
“What are you? Some kind of alcholic? How many drinks do you need? Get back here and do your job. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Um…Off in the distance, Sir Aleren sees a beautiful princess on horseback being chased by 3 evil bandits. Sir Aleren rushes to save her, knowing it is his duty as a noble knight to defeat those terrible bandits.”
“Damnit. No bandits and no princess. That didn’t work.”
“Okay, let’s try this again. Off in the distance, Walter sees a beautiful princess on horseback being chased by 3 evil bandits. Walter rushes to save her, knowing it is his duty as a noble knight to defeat those terrible bandits.”
“Crap.”
Walter found himself in a bit of a pickle. Not a real pickle, mind you. That would just be ridiculous. A better analogy would be to say that he was between a rock and a hard place. Only in this instance, his back was really against a rock, and the hard place was more like hard steel. Things did not look particularly good for Walter.
His opponent was formidable. It was obvious that he was a very experienced knight. His armor wasn’t nearly as bright and shiny as Walter’s was, nor was his blade nearly as sharp. It looked plain and very simple, but, unfortunately for Walter, quite strong. There were a few old dents in the side, and one very recent one from when Walter hit the knight when he wasn’t looking. That was what got Walter into this near-death position in the first place.
It’s not that Walter had never been in a battle before. In fact, he’d won his fair share of battles, and even killed in a few of them. Walter was the first and only son of a second-rate nobleman who was conned into some third-rate land, and he still thought he got a good deal out of it. Walter was looking forward to inheriting that land, lazing away drinking wine and chasing skirts. Walter couldn’t wait to grow old and rich while everyone else did the work.
Walter didn’t grow up alone though. He did have a bunch of sisters. Older sisters. Bigger sisters. Sisters who forced Walter to play their silly games, dressing him in all sorts of outrageous outfits and making him kiss the family pig. In the stories they created, the pig always turned into a handsome prince that married one of the sisters, depending on whose turn it was. Walter never did understand why he was the one who had to kiss the pig. If he kissed the pig, it should obviously turn into a princess, one with a big castle where he could drink wine and chase skirts. He didn’t really care if the princess was beautiful or not. He just wanted a castle. Walter did enjoy the outfits though. All the bright colors and patterns that made no sense. It made Walter feel frivolous. In reality, Walter didn’t know what frivolous meant, but it was the biggest word he knew how to say, so he tried to use it as often as he could. Walter’s father thought he looked like a sissy.
Walter’s father, whose name was also Walter, tried to make a man out of Walter. Walter taught Walter to fish, hunt, ride a horse, fight, and all sort of other skills one of his blood was due. Um…Walter the father taught Walter the son all those things. Right, this could get confusing. I think we’ll just call Walter the father W1 and Walter the son W2 for this part of the story. Of all the skills that W2 learned from his father, the activity he practiced the most was sword fighting. It made W2 feel strong and powerful; his noble blood pumping through his veins. Also, it got him out of playing kiss the pig with his sisters. In W1’s eyes, W2 became quite adept at the things he had been taught. W1 had great visions of his son winning the family glory and riches, allowing them to move up a whole peg to 1st rate nobles on 2nd rate land!
Alas, W1 was not nearly as good at these noble skills as he thought he was, and he was a much worse teacher. W2 learned the skills to the best of his limited ability, and used his skills to win his fair share of battles. Granted, most of these battles were against trees that couldn’t fight back and the rest against bound pigs he had to slaughter, but in W2’s mind, they were evil wizards and dragons, so it still counted. W2’s problem wasn’t that he was bad. That can always be fixed. His problem was that he didn’t realize that he was bad. People say that ignorance is bliss. In this case, ignorance could get you killed. The only people within miles of his land were the servants, and they knew nothing about these noble skills. After all, they were not noble. They did know a fool when they saw him though and would often mock W2 behind his back.
After years of perfecting mediocrity, W2 decided it was time to go out into the world and earn riches, save princesses, and chase skirts. Not wishing to see his son go out unprotected, W1 commissioned a brand new suit of armor for his son to wear, with intricate metalwork meant to strike fear in the hearts of his enemies. His mother, always congnizant of the family’s financial situation, made sure that W1 brought the coupon she had cut out of the weekly circulator when he went to pay for it. W2’s family waved to him as he rode out to explore the world, wishing him luck, praying for riches, and hoping he remembered to come back alive.
The world was very different then what Walter expected. At this point we can safely assume that all references to Walter can only refer to Walter the son. The world was much bigger, things were a lot farther apart, and the woman were much uglier. But the worst part of it was that there weren’t any adventures to go on. Walter expected ample opportunities to go adventuring, and he was thouroughly disappointed. Still, he looked like a noble knight in fancy armor, so the peasants in the towns he visited showed him some matter of respect.
That is, until he ran into another knight as he was traveling; a knight with not nearly as fancy armor as his own. To Walter, a knight’s standing was evident through his appearance, not his actions. Seeing this unknown knight in dented armor, Walter fully expected the knight to show him the respect his appearance demanded. The other knight just ignored Walter, barely even seeing him in the glare off the pristine armor. Offended, Walter drew his sword, as if to show that he was a knight to be respected. Walter also prayed that the other knight would be convinced enough to not fight back. The knight knew the actions of an amateur when he saw one, and not wishing to have a laugh escape his lips, the knight merely passed Walter silently. Angered at this knights lack of respect, Walter smacked the offender with the flat of his blade hard enough to add another dent in the used armor. Did I mention that Walter wasn’t particularly bright?
Surprisingly, Walter was holding his own. Oh, he was still in a pickle, but he was alive which, for someone of his ability, was quite impressive. Walter’s main problem, outside of his inexperience, was that his arms were getting tired. They’d been fighting for quite some time, and, while it was easy for him to take a break when he was fighting a tree, I mean an evil wizard, Walter had a sneaking suspicion that his opponent would not agree to break for a cup of tea. It was at this moment, while Walter was holding off a rather violent flurry from his homicidal opponent, that Walter slipped and ended up leaning against the wall.
Walter knew this was bad. If he was standing up, Walter at least had a remote chance of running away. On the ground, he was a turtle. A very tired turtle, lying on its shell with little chance of getting up quickly. The offended knight lept at the opportunity to finish off Walter, and in his homicidal rage, jumped up to land the killing blow. Walter was definitely scared and was pretty sure that he could see death foaming at the mouth. At this moment, it occurred to Walter that perhaps the other knight had been bitten by a rabid animal which would explain his sudden mood swing from disrespectful to homicidal. No life flashing before his eyes, no prayers for salvation to God, just a mental note not to pick a fight with a person with rabies. The next thing Walter knew, the other knight was lying dead on the ground with all but the hilt and a few inches of Walter’s sword in his body.
Walter was ecstatic. He didn’t know how, but he was alive which he thought was a good thing considering that he was pretty sure that wasn’t a likely outcome of the battle. For years, Walter would tell the story of how he killed the knight. As with any good story, it would be slightly embellished with each telling until Walter would recount how he had either killed a giant or 4 heavily armed knights on horses with one arm, the other one having been chopped off by a fifth, already dead knight, depending on Walter’s mood and alcoholic intake. At this point, someone generally pointed out to Walter that he still had both arms, making it rather difficult for it to have been chopped off since it was still attached. Walter insisted indignantly that his arm had grown back. The reality was that, while Walter was pondering what sort of rabid animal had bitten his opponent, some instict had caused him to lift his sword up. The semi-victorious knight, in his rabid rage, ran right onto the sword, body first, and, shocked to find half a sword in his body, promptly fell over and died, leaving Walter to survive. It was actually quite a considerate thing to do since Walter was not looking forward to his seemingly inevitable death. Exhausted from the fight, Walter stood up, brushed himself off, removed his sword from his recently deceased opponent, and said:
“I didn’t slip. I fell on purpose.”
Walter had recently taken to talking to himself or rather, it seemed to others that he was having a conversation with someone that only he could hear. The anonymous people of the towns he rode through often wondered if the stranger in the ridiculous armor was crazy.
“I’m not talking to myself, and I can’t have a conversation with someone who never talks back to me, now can I? I can’t help it if I hear a really annoying voice that tells any number of lies about me. I’m just trying to set the facts straight. It would seem that no one else hears this voice, but I’ll be damned if that’s going to make me have to listen to lies.”
A few more religious people in these towns wondered if Walter was perhaps a prophet, talking to a diety about the fate of the town. In order to curry favor with this potential prophet, they would send him gifts of food and wine. Walter graciously accepted their offers, believing that the people were treating him the way a knight aught to be treated. Rest assured, Walter was not a prophet. He just talked to himself all the time. Most people thought he was crazy.
“So that’s why they gave me all that food and wine! I have to admit that most of it wasn’t of particularly good quality, but it was better than the dried meats I had in my pack. If they had really wanted to curry favor with an alleged prophet, they should have sent me their daughters. Not that it really would have mattered, I’m not a prophet. I’m just a guy who hears an annoying voice in his head narrating every thing I do. On top of that, he doesn’t even tell it right. I was winning the fight the whole time. I was just letting the other guy think he had a chance. I fell on purpose to bring him closer to me so I could kill him. I do agree that it certainly looked like he had rabies though. I don’t know why else he wouldn’t properly show me respect.”
It was generally thought that talking to oneself was not in fact a sign of insanity. Many people talked to themselves while doing some activity, usually as a way to pass the time and stay entertained. However, people did think that conversing with oneself was a sign insanity, and Walter definitely seemed to be having a conversation with someone. It was beginning to get quite worrisome.
“…Walter definitely seemed to be having a conversation with someone. It was beginning to get quite worrisome. Oh, shut up already! It’s getting hard to hear myself think.”
No one could discern who Walter was talking to.
“I’m talking to you, you dolt, whomever you are! Ever since I left my house, you’ve been following me around, narrating everything I do. I know what just happened. I was the one doing it. Not to mention all the horrible lies you’ve been telling about me. I did not like dressing up! It’s not very knightly. Just shut up already!”
This was beginning to get disturbing.
“I should say so. You try having a voice follow you every where you go.”
Who are you talking to?
“Are you not paying attention? I’m talking to you, you stupid voice.”
You can hear me?
“What? Did you honestly think I was hearing voices? I heard one voice, yours. Only time I ever got a break from you was when I was sleeping. Narrating sleep isn’t very interesting, is it?”
You’re not supposed to hear me. No one’s ever heard me before.
“There are others?! Damn, I was at least hoping that I was the only one to have a voice follow them. Now, I’m not even special. And how can they not hear you? I would think that they couldn’t help but hear an annoying, voice that talks funny repeating everything they’ve just done.”
I don’t talk funny.
“Have you ever heard yourself speak?”
Of course.
“Well, then you know what I’m talking about.”
My voice is perfectly normal.
“Whatever. Don’t believe me. I’m just the one who hears you speak all the time. Look, can you just leave me alone?”
Sorry. I’m just doing what I’m told. I don’t really have a choice. It’s my job to tell the story.
“What do you mean, it’s your job to tell the story? It’s my life! You just tell what I’m doing anyway. All you have to do is stop speaking.”
It doesn’t work that way.
“Fine, then I’m just going to stand here and do nothing. If I don’t do anything, then you don’t have anything to tell.”
Walter stuck his tongue out at nobody in particular. He didn’t exactly know where the voice was coming from, so he just picked a direction and hoped the voice could see it. Walter wondered if voices had eyes. Deciding that it didn’t really matter, Walter leaned up against a tree and did nothing.
“STOP THAT! I’m not doing anything. You can’t narrate nothing! Who has ever heard a story where the guy does nothing? Not me, that’s for sure.”
Walter continued to do nothing. Occasionally this nothing was broken by yelling into the air at nothing in particular.
“I’m not yelling at nothing. I’m yelling at you. You really are an idiot.”
Look, I don’t really have a say in this. I speak and you do something. That’s how it works.
“What do you mean, you do what you’re told? Is there someone else there? Hey! Other person!
Will you tell him to shut up already? Besides, you always talk after I’ve done something, never before. Maybe you’re the crazy one, following respectable knights around and repeating everything they just did, as if they didn’t know?”
No…it just seems to you that I’m talking after you’ve done something. You’re so busy doing whatever it is that you’re doing that you don’t actually hear me until after the fact. At least, I think that’s how it works. Normally I don’t get into a conversation with the character I’m talking about.
“Okay…this is just getting weird. Obviously, I’m the one doing things, so you respond to me.”
I can’t even see you. I responded to an ad in the paper for a person who could tell stories well. I’ve always felt comfortable talking to people, have really good diction, and can do voices, so I got the job. The only reason you can’t hear me when you go to sleep is because you going to sleep magically happens to coincide with the end of my shift. You can’t have a story without someone telling it, so you just conveniently go to sleep.
“So, you’re telling a story about me?”
Not exactly. I was told to just sit here in my cubicle and speak. I’m not really making up the story though. The words just come out of my mouth on their own. I don’t know what frivolous means either. I’ll admit it’s a little weird, but the pay is good.
“So someone else wrote the story, and you read it?”
Were you not listening? I’m not reading anything. The words just come out of my mouth. The sign in the lobby says something about the voice being a vehicle.
“Who are you telling the story to anyway? Is anyone really that interested in what I’m doing?”
No idea. I clock in, sit down, and when the green light comes on, the words just start coming out of my mouth.
“That’s weird.”
You’re telling me. Try speaking without thinking. Wait…I’ve told enough of your story to know better than to say that.
“Very funny. Well, can’t you just not talk when the green light comes on. I mean, there’s no one making you talk.”
Technically not, but my paycheck gives me some pretty good incentive to do my job. Also, if I don’t narrate, I don’t think you can actually do anything.
“How do you know that? I don’t act just because you say so. You’re not all powerful. You don’t even know what frivolous means. You’re just a –what did you call it again?– a vehicle. What’s a vehicle?”
It’s sort of like a horse-drawn cart without the horse that still moves. I’m not exactly sure how that applies to story-telling, but I’m not paid to think. You’ve distracted me long enough. I need to get back to telling the story.
Walter crossed his arms and looked indignantly at no one in particular.
“Oh, that reminds me. Why is my name Walter? That’s not a very noble sounding name. Why can’t it be something memorable like… Aleren. Sir Aleren. That sounds much better. You don’t even call me Sir Walter. Just Walter and that whole W1, W2 thing. I thought that was really disrespectful. Do you want to end up like that knight?”
You really are quite thick, you realize that? I didn’t name you. You were named, and I spoke that name. That’s how it works. Enough with this foolishness.
“No.”
You tried this already. It didn’t work last time and it’s not going to work this time either.
“It’ll work if you do your part. Just get up and leave. I don’t know. Take a break. Go have a beer. You do have beer wherever you’re from, right?”
It’s 10 in the morning here.
“You’re point being?”
It’s too early to have a drink.
“Is the closest bar open?”
Um…yes. I get breakfast there sometimes.
“Then it’s not too early to have a drink.”
You’re really quite persistent, aren’t you?
“I just want to stop hearing voices.”
You have quite a way with words, do you realize that?
“What? Whatever. Just leave me alone. If you’re gone for 5 minutes, what’s the worst that could happen? He’s still dead and there’s no one around for miles.”
Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’ll be back.
“Finally, some peace of mind. Wait…let me test this out. You’re not still there, are you?”
…
“He really left. And I can still do stuff. Sweet. See…I didn’t need him. So why am I still talking to myself? Let me get out of here, things will be easier once I’m moving. Plus, I don’t really want to explain why there’s a dead body over there.”
“Um…where am I going? Usually I just start riding and the voice sort of clues me in on where I’m going. Why couldn’t someone have put a sign on this damn road. I think I’ll go that way.”
“This usually goes a lot faster. One minute I’m riding through a mountain pass, the next, I’m at some town. Actually doing the riding is pretty boring and long.”
“I think I’m starting to get some chafing.”
“Okay…this just sucks. Hey. Hey! Are you there? Can you help me out? Speed this up a bit or at least tell me where I’m going.”
…
“What are you? Some kind of alcholic? How many drinks do you need? Get back here and do your job. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Um…Off in the distance, Sir Aleren sees a beautiful princess on horseback being chased by 3 evil bandits. Sir Aleren rushes to save her, knowing it is his duty as a noble knight to defeat those terrible bandits.”
“Damnit. No bandits and no princess. That didn’t work.”
“Okay, let’s try this again. Off in the distance, Walter sees a beautiful princess on horseback being chased by 3 evil bandits. Walter rushes to save her, knowing it is his duty as a noble knight to defeat those terrible bandits.”
“Crap.”
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Runaway Fist
So...I've been really bad about posting and feel fairly guilty about it. I do have some books and such to review, so I'm going to write them up soon. But for now, I had mentioned writing a few stories and had been waiting on some feedback from a few people, but they didn't get back to me. So I'm just going to post them today and tomorrow, and have you guys be my feed back. They still need some work, so tell me what you think. This is the shorter of the two stories, and I'm not sold on the title yet, but I still think it's funny. Oh, and I've thought of building around this story but haven't figured out what to do with it yet.
Runaway Fist
Rich walked into his apartment after being away all weekend to find his roommate John lying on the couch watching TV with a frozen steak on half of his face.
“Dude! What the fuck happened to you? Why the fuck do you have a frozen steak on your face? That’s not one of the good steaks, is it?”
“Nah, man. It’s one of the ones we got on sale last month. Nothing happened. I’m fine.”
“Okay, the last time I walked in here and you had a steak covering half of your face, you got into a bar fight with a tranny. I’m pretty sure something happened.”
“I did not get into a bar fight.”
“Well, that’s good to know. I wasn’t going to drive you to your court date this time if you had. So what happened?”
“I fell down some stairs.”
“Bullshit. The only time that one works is if you’re an old lady and at the bottom of the stairs you yell: ‘Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.’”
“Ha. Fine. I went out last night and ended up going home with this girl.”
“Who? Ms. Olympia?”
“I don’t know. Some chick. I was drunk at the time.”
“Well, unless she’s one kinky bitch, I’m guessing she’s not the one who wrecked half your face.”
“No…that would have been her boyfriend.”
“John…How many times have I told you? The only time you go back with two people to their place is if they are both girls.”
“Thanks…I’ll try to remember that useful bit of information for when it might actually happen. Apparently, the girl I went home with wasn’t exactly single.”
“Eesh. I’m guessing that he walked in on you banging his girl?”
“Something like that. I tried to get out of there, but I sort of ran into a problem. Namely, his fist.”
“That sounds painful.”
“That’s what my face said. He only got me a couple times, but I wasn’t exactly in the best position to defend myself. I just sort of grabbed my pants and got the fuck out of there as fast as I could.”
“Was she hot?”
“I think so. I got pretty shitcanned last night. Ask Chuck. He was with me most of the night until he left with her friend.”
“Please tell me she was good at least.”
“Not sure. It sort of depends. Do I still have all my teeth?”
“Um…looks like you’re missing one.”
“Shit. I had a feeling I puked one up this morning. In that case, she wasn’t that good.”
“Damn man…What are you going to do now?”
“Well, this steak feels pretty good right now, but eating only makes my face hurt. Sunday Night game is about to start. Wanna grab me a beer and watch the game?”
“Sure. Just let me just throw this stuff in my room.”
Runaway Fist
Rich walked into his apartment after being away all weekend to find his roommate John lying on the couch watching TV with a frozen steak on half of his face.
“Dude! What the fuck happened to you? Why the fuck do you have a frozen steak on your face? That’s not one of the good steaks, is it?”
“Nah, man. It’s one of the ones we got on sale last month. Nothing happened. I’m fine.”
“Okay, the last time I walked in here and you had a steak covering half of your face, you got into a bar fight with a tranny. I’m pretty sure something happened.”
“I did not get into a bar fight.”
“Well, that’s good to know. I wasn’t going to drive you to your court date this time if you had. So what happened?”
“I fell down some stairs.”
“Bullshit. The only time that one works is if you’re an old lady and at the bottom of the stairs you yell: ‘Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.’”
“Ha. Fine. I went out last night and ended up going home with this girl.”
“Who? Ms. Olympia?”
“I don’t know. Some chick. I was drunk at the time.”
“Well, unless she’s one kinky bitch, I’m guessing she’s not the one who wrecked half your face.”
“No…that would have been her boyfriend.”
“John…How many times have I told you? The only time you go back with two people to their place is if they are both girls.”
“Thanks…I’ll try to remember that useful bit of information for when it might actually happen. Apparently, the girl I went home with wasn’t exactly single.”
“Eesh. I’m guessing that he walked in on you banging his girl?”
“Something like that. I tried to get out of there, but I sort of ran into a problem. Namely, his fist.”
“That sounds painful.”
“That’s what my face said. He only got me a couple times, but I wasn’t exactly in the best position to defend myself. I just sort of grabbed my pants and got the fuck out of there as fast as I could.”
“Was she hot?”
“I think so. I got pretty shitcanned last night. Ask Chuck. He was with me most of the night until he left with her friend.”
“Please tell me she was good at least.”
“Not sure. It sort of depends. Do I still have all my teeth?”
“Um…looks like you’re missing one.”
“Shit. I had a feeling I puked one up this morning. In that case, she wasn’t that good.”
“Damn man…What are you going to do now?”
“Well, this steak feels pretty good right now, but eating only makes my face hurt. Sunday Night game is about to start. Wanna grab me a beer and watch the game?”
“Sure. Just let me just throw this stuff in my room.”
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Bonding with Bond
Sigh...starting this post fairly late, but I promised one today.
I recently borrowed the first box in the 4 box Ultimate James Bond box set from one of my best friends. He's a huge Bond nut, and I've never seen the old ones all the way through. I've got time on my hands, so I figured I'd watch them. I remember being a lot younger (8ish?), and some TV channel would run one movie a night Bond marathons which I would watch with my parents. Unfortunately, I always had to go to bed before seeing the end, so I've seen the first half of most of the old Bond movies, just like I've seen the first half of the Ten Commandments. It was actually pretty funny because I had gone over to Ethan's place in DC to watch the NCAA title game and, as I was leaving because it was past his and Sara's bedtime, I asked him if I could borrow the first set. He paused and looked at me for about 3 seconds before saying okay. Knowing E as well as I do, I told him that I fully well understood that I was one of the privileged few allowed such an honor and promised to bring it back next time I came over. E and I have known each other our whole lives, our dads have been friends since they were about 3, we can joke around about stuff like this.
Anyway, included in the box set were 5 Bond movies, though the reality is that I feel like I should refer to this set the same way we referred to the Rocky 1-5 box set 1st year, namely, 4 Bond movies and that other movie starring a guy named James Bond. The contents of this set included Goldfinger, Diamonds are Forever, The Man with the Golden Gun, The Living Daylights, and The World is Not Enough (this is the one we pretend doesn't exist.). If you want to know what my problem is with The World is Not Enough, I think it can pretty much be summed up by saying that Denise Richard plays a Nuclear physicist. You can extrapolate from there.
For the rest of the set, my ranking would go as follows:
The Man with the Golden Gun-10.0 This is probably my favorite of the Bond movies. Christopher Lee is an awesome bad guy. Roger Moore makes a great Bond. That amazing 360 car trick. They're in Southeast Asia. And that duel between Scaramanga and Bond is just awesome. Highly recommend it.
Goldfinger-9.5 Roger Moore may play Bond in my favorite single Bond film, but Connery was the best Bond. I don't like it quite as much as Golden Gun, so it gets the 9.5, but it does introduce some of the most iconic Bond characters ever. I mean, if you mention Goldfinger, everyone knows you're talking about James Bond. Also, you have Odd Job and his judo chop and Pussy Galore. Where can you go wrong?
Diamonds are Forever-8.5/9.0 Another Bond classic. As usual, a good showing from Connery, though not my favorite Bond film. These Bond movies do seem to be obsessed with diamonds though. Here, Living Daylights, the one with Halle Berry, I'm sure there are others. Either way, still a really fun flick. The car chase with the cops in Las Vegas was great. It also has perhaps the funniest chase scene ever between a moon robot and guys in cars/three wheeled dirt bikes. Also, the blow up an oil rig at the end. I really enjoyed it, just doesn't stack up to the other two.
The Living Daylights-8.0 I liked the Living Daylights, but this was the worst movie of the this set since I'm not counting the fifth one. It's not that it's bad. Timothy Dalton makes a pretty good Bond. It just has to compete with 3 Bond classics, and it doesn't stack up. My main problem is that Bond seems to fall in love with the Bond girl. Look, it's well known that Bond was a player and slept with plenty of women, but he never, ever falls in love with them, Casino Royale being the exception. Part of what makes Bond, Bond is that he's so suave that even when the girls know he's seducing them, they fall for it anyway. Pussy Galore is a perfect example. Bond is straight up the man, but he never actually falls for any of the girls. In this one though, it seems pretty obvious that Bond falls head over heals for this girl, and I didn't like it. Call me a male chauvinist if you want, but Bond has a reputation to uphold, and Dalton and the script did not hold up their end of the bargain. Still, it's a good Bond movie.
I recently borrowed the first box in the 4 box Ultimate James Bond box set from one of my best friends. He's a huge Bond nut, and I've never seen the old ones all the way through. I've got time on my hands, so I figured I'd watch them. I remember being a lot younger (8ish?), and some TV channel would run one movie a night Bond marathons which I would watch with my parents. Unfortunately, I always had to go to bed before seeing the end, so I've seen the first half of most of the old Bond movies, just like I've seen the first half of the Ten Commandments. It was actually pretty funny because I had gone over to Ethan's place in DC to watch the NCAA title game and, as I was leaving because it was past his and Sara's bedtime, I asked him if I could borrow the first set. He paused and looked at me for about 3 seconds before saying okay. Knowing E as well as I do, I told him that I fully well understood that I was one of the privileged few allowed such an honor and promised to bring it back next time I came over. E and I have known each other our whole lives, our dads have been friends since they were about 3, we can joke around about stuff like this.
Anyway, included in the box set were 5 Bond movies, though the reality is that I feel like I should refer to this set the same way we referred to the Rocky 1-5 box set 1st year, namely, 4 Bond movies and that other movie starring a guy named James Bond. The contents of this set included Goldfinger, Diamonds are Forever, The Man with the Golden Gun, The Living Daylights, and The World is Not Enough (this is the one we pretend doesn't exist.). If you want to know what my problem is with The World is Not Enough, I think it can pretty much be summed up by saying that Denise Richard plays a Nuclear physicist. You can extrapolate from there.
For the rest of the set, my ranking would go as follows:
The Man with the Golden Gun-10.0 This is probably my favorite of the Bond movies. Christopher Lee is an awesome bad guy. Roger Moore makes a great Bond. That amazing 360 car trick. They're in Southeast Asia. And that duel between Scaramanga and Bond is just awesome. Highly recommend it.
Goldfinger-9.5 Roger Moore may play Bond in my favorite single Bond film, but Connery was the best Bond. I don't like it quite as much as Golden Gun, so it gets the 9.5, but it does introduce some of the most iconic Bond characters ever. I mean, if you mention Goldfinger, everyone knows you're talking about James Bond. Also, you have Odd Job and his judo chop and Pussy Galore. Where can you go wrong?
Diamonds are Forever-8.5/9.0 Another Bond classic. As usual, a good showing from Connery, though not my favorite Bond film. These Bond movies do seem to be obsessed with diamonds though. Here, Living Daylights, the one with Halle Berry, I'm sure there are others. Either way, still a really fun flick. The car chase with the cops in Las Vegas was great. It also has perhaps the funniest chase scene ever between a moon robot and guys in cars/three wheeled dirt bikes. Also, the blow up an oil rig at the end. I really enjoyed it, just doesn't stack up to the other two.
The Living Daylights-8.0 I liked the Living Daylights, but this was the worst movie of the this set since I'm not counting the fifth one. It's not that it's bad. Timothy Dalton makes a pretty good Bond. It just has to compete with 3 Bond classics, and it doesn't stack up. My main problem is that Bond seems to fall in love with the Bond girl. Look, it's well known that Bond was a player and slept with plenty of women, but he never, ever falls in love with them, Casino Royale being the exception. Part of what makes Bond, Bond is that he's so suave that even when the girls know he's seducing them, they fall for it anyway. Pussy Galore is a perfect example. Bond is straight up the man, but he never actually falls for any of the girls. In this one though, it seems pretty obvious that Bond falls head over heals for this girl, and I didn't like it. Call me a male chauvinist if you want, but Bond has a reputation to uphold, and Dalton and the script did not hold up their end of the bargain. Still, it's a good Bond movie.
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