Category: General

Too much emotion makes Scudworth uncomfortable.

On the other hand, too much stiffness makes Toren uncomfortable.

I was looking at Kathryn’s recent photos of thanksgiving. Wow, that table…is intimidating to me. Now I don’t mean to slag Kathryn’s parents. I’m sure the food was good, the conversation stimulating, and everyone had a warm and fuzzy time. But for me, that setting screams “don’t touch! No eating until we say grace! Prepare to sit in this straight-backed chair until you’ve finished all your peas!” The irony is that whoever set that table obviously put a lot of time and effort (and dare I assume, love) into it, and here I am ascribing all this negativity into it.

I guess that’s my problem. I don’t know – what is your optimum meal-eating state? See, I’m a laid-back kind of guy, and I believe you should be relaxed when you eat; not tense. Eating around the table is anathema to all that is me. Few situations make me feel more uncomfortable; the more reserved the setting, the more reserved the Toren. My father, and I’m sure he meant well, drilled in all manner of, well…manners into me when I was growing up. After every dinner, the recital of “Thank you for the lovely lovely supper” was mandatory. Now my dad was a good cook, and I appreciate that. With the budget and resources at hand he whipped up some fine meals. But all this 1950’s puritanical table-sitting, fork-on-the-left, knife-and-spoon-on-the-right (or vice versa, I don’t know), saying the things we’re trained to say, playing the parts we’re trained to play, rubs me in the wrongest way. (Bit of a poem there.) I much preferred making or ordering pizza and eating it in front of the TV, as I remember doing on more than one occasion.

Make no mistake, though – it’s not a generational/authoritative hangup (although it may stem from that). The last time I ate around a table was at Yvonne’s, with her roommates. It was a good meal, and I like her roomies. I look forward to seeing them next time I’m over, (I hope to arrange a Muppets-watching night for Satomi) but not around a dinner table. Those things are casual-bane; they facilitate awkward silences; they bring out the traditionalistic worst in us. You’ve guessed it: I’m against them.

I’m also against neckties. Call me a bohemian.

Kathryn, Mom, Dad: forgive me.

Oh yeah – so: The reason I bring up anonymous commenting is that I refuse to recognize internet anonymity. I find it annoying and rude. On my ICQ etc – I rename all contacts to their real names. Handles muddy up my world – I have no use for them. If I could go back in time to 1992 I would get toren@uniserve.com instead of thickets @ uniserve.com, but it’s too late for that now. Anyway – if any comments (on any blogs – mine or otherwise) have no author, or questions are posed anonymously, I ignore them. It’s not that hard to sign your name, and if you don’t have the common courtesy to interact with me as a person, then I feel no obligation to acknowledge you as a person. Strong words, I know, but there they are. Just so everyone knows where I stand.

Interesting side note: as a disembodied head in a jar, I envy the dead.

I got some junk mail from Mastercard today. Everyone in my building did. Many of them tossed it in the recycling bin. I fished them out. Each one contains a Postage Paid envelope. Those of you who were daring enough to give me your mailing address know why this is significant. For the rest of you: Pbt.

I also got some Rocket Robin Hood cartoons in the mail. These are hard to find, so I’m excited. I’m trading them for some Incredible Hulk and the Lost In Space animated pilot.

In other news: Anonymous commenting: why?

Where does the school board find them, and why do they keep sending them to me?

I was talking to Yvonne about youthful obsessions with famous people the other day. I never had any crushes on movie stars. I never had magazine-clipped photos of famous cutie-pies in my locker. I guess my mind was too full of Star Wars and Transformers to worry about such nonsense as healthy natural development. However I did have a crush on Moose (AKA Christine McGlade) from You Can’t Do That On Television. Today, in an odd coincidence, I realized the tape that I was recording Enterprise on was an old YCDTOTV tape. After the tremendously dull episode of Enterprise ended, I watched a couple of episodes of YCDTOTV. Guess what? Last year they had a YCDTOTV convention in Ottawa. I missed it. I could have met Christine. Damn. Once again I’ve let true love slip through my fingers.

Just like Darth Vader tightening his grip on star systems.

There, you see? Tragic.

I should really be working….

Some news items from the past 7 days:

Australian researchers found that the brain really does experience pain
when your heart is breaking.

A Princeton graduate student was in trouble for pointing out on his website that the copy-protection software on a new music CD could be defeated simply by pressing the shift key when one inserts the disc. SunnComm Technologies Inc. claimed that the student had violated criminal provisions of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act and threatened to sue him.

A lightning bolt killed 20 pregnant cows in Florida.

Physicists were arguing over whether the universe is shaped like a soccer ball.

Japan was investigating an orgy in China involving 400 Japanese tourists and 500 Chinese prostitutes.

A monkey moved a robot with its mind.

Transparency International released its annual corruption survey; Bangladesh was rated most corrupt, just beating out Nigeria and Haiti. Finland, Iceland, and Denmark were the least corrupt.

American soldiers bulldozed ancient groves of date, orange, and lemon trees in central Iraq because, the soldiers said, the farmers know who is in the resistance but refuse to tell.

Rush Limbaugh, who was forced to resign from ESPN after he made unkind comments about a black football player, admitted to being a drug addict.

A Muslim girl in Oklahoma was suspended from school after she refused to take off her head scarf.

Don’t panic if my comments seem gone. This happens from time to time. They always come back in a day or two. I received this email today, I thought I would share it with you.

Dear Sir,
My name is Grzegorz Gadomski. I live in Poland. I study at one of the biggest universities in Poland: Unversity of Marie -Curie Sklodowska in Lublin. 2003/04 is my final year at UMCS and I’m in the middle of writing my M.A. paper on HP Lovecraft. I’m really in trouble now, because I find it extremely difficult to find suitable material, essays, theory for my MA. I have aspirations to write about adaptations of Lovecraft’s motives in computer and other kinds of games (e.g.RPG), music or films. If there is any chance to help please, let me know.
Greetings!
Grzegorz Gadomski

One of the things I like about weekends is the cartoons. One of the things I hate about weekends is there’s no mail. Yesterday, however, was an amazing mail day, that made up for the long weekend. Amongst the goods was a big package of crap from a Thickets fan. Included were some comic books, including Sandman and Howard the Duck, and some stickers. Yay. I also got my contributor copies of The Necronomicon Files (second Revised and Expanded edition, softcover this time), a keen book about Lovecraft’s fictitious tome, that is so comprehensive they spend 4 pages talking about the episode of The Real Ghostbusters (this link goes to a pdf file) in which the GBs track down the cult of Cthulhu. I got five copies of the book (I did the cover art) so if anyone wants a copy, I only need to keep one for myself.

It was to be expected that some stuff would be cut when Green Ronin published Spaceship Zero: The Roleplaying game. We had written a really long introductory scenario called “Slave Ship” which basically takes the players through the plot of the SSZ movie. What ended up being published was just a fraction of that story. Now, the rest is being offered as a pdf.

http://www.rpgnow.com/product_info.php?products_id=2108

I wrote the silly blurb.
And now you know.

Last night: Adrian and Ang Hold came over and we played some Magic: The Gathering and ordered pizza. Happy Thankstaking to us. Also, Chris & Angie (Woods and Norris, respectively) were awesome enough to swing by with a tape-tape recorder, so fans of Faster Octopus, Krill! Krill! watch out! Things are happening…

Today: Went to see Lost in Translation with Yvonne. It was quite good. I enjoyed it. It seemed a bit slow at first, but I didn’t mind. I wish I could understand Japanese. Damn the VPL. DAMN THEM!!! Mom, I want some “Learning Japanese for Beginners” audio tapes for Christmas.

-addendum

Silly me, I forgot to mention that this weekend was the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival in Portland, where the animated feature film Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath premiered. A couple years ago Tinessa and I drove down to a recording setup in Tigard, Oregon and I provided the voice for the protagonist, Randolph Carter. I haven’t seen the finished product yet. I hope the premiere went well.

The Best Rainy Day Blog Entry Ever

Lately, a thought has been swirling around my head like fine brandy in a snifter; something Ang Hold brought up at our meal at the Havana on Friday. See, she’s taking a counseling course and one of the things discussed was “when to hug and when not to hug a person you’re counseling.” Personal space/invisible barriers were brought up. I have a personal barrier – you’ve probably experienced it. Ang detected my barrier and mentioned that she simply ignores it – pushes past that shit, if you will. And dog bless her for that: I wish more people would. Lots of my friends have these same barriers, and while I would like to say that I’ve observed that it’s more prevalent in my male friends that may not be an objective observation since a) most of them are straight (and yes, I’m a male) and/or b) that may just be feedback from my invisible barrier. This may be complete applesauce but what’s said is said. (Don’t bother pointing out the backspace button, I’m obstinate.)

I wonder if my personal hangups, which Ang has such a knack for kicking over like godzilla would a stiff British Embassy, have ever made people feel less welcome than I’d like. Have my hangups sucked the warmth from a room, or unduly created vacuum in conversation? Probably. Well, if I can say so without sounding like a hippy frolicking naked at Burning Man, the next time you detect my invisible barrier radiating out, do me a favour and ignore it.

And this leads me to another topic….

Remember that episode of Star Trek: the Next Generation where Wesley is taking his Starfleet entrance exam onboard Enterprise, and part of the test is bumping into that guy whose culture finds politeness offensive? Well, I always admired that guy. I don’t really find politeness offensive per se, but there are certain people who put way too much energy into tiptoeing around life in the +2 Slippers of Etiquette. Being considerate and being polite are two different things, in fact sometimes they are polar opposites. It’s important to know the difference. If I’m talking on the phone, don’t ask me if you can have a glass of water: just have a glass of water. In fact while I’ve got you here, let me say that if it weren’t for the fact that some of the food in my home is not mine, help yourself to anything you fancy. Come in, sit down, put your feet up. Put your coat wherever you’d like. You don’t have to take your shoes off. If you want a blanket, they’re in the closet next to my bedroom. Cups are above the sink (there’s no cupboard doors so you can see for yourself), forks and spoons in the drawer to the left, and there’s cold filtered water in the fridge. Yes, of course you can use my telephone–if you want some privacy, there’s one in my room. I don’t need you to announce that you’re going to use the bathroom. Come and sit beside me. Grab as many candies out of my hand as you like. The kettle’s probably already on the stove. Tell me to go get the specific movie or cartoon you’d like to see. I appreciate certainty. Wishy-washyness is the enemy. I prefer the efficiency of aggressiveness; of forwardness. Do I have something you want? Take first, ask questions later. Don’t worry, if I have a problem with anything, I’ll let you know–that’s the Toren guarantee. It makes me feel warm when my friends seem comfortable around me. I strive for that, but it can’t be that easy with these invisible barriers up all the time. I am so fed up with that extra half hour spent in the video store or outside the movie theater second-guessing whether or not the other person actually wants to see that movie, or if they agreed only out of politeness. Stinking, rude politeness!

On to the boring crap

Today was the last day of the play. It’s over. It went well. We broke even, which for an original play with a cast of mostly neophytes (this was my first play outside of a 3 month drama class in grade 8) with no press to speak of, is fantastic. I enjoyed it, it was a lot of fun. I don’t want to make a career out of it though. It is a huge investment of time and energy, and while there is a payoff in terms of…whatever you want to call it…artistic satisfaction, I can’t imagine it paying the bills. Voiceover, on the other hand, I can really get behind: it doesn’t matter what you look like; time commitment is typically a half day and then you’re done; the money is good. Plus I love cartoons and video games, and being part of that makes me happy.

On the way to that last show I bumped into Ed & Janet. Neither of them had umbrellas. Ed updated me on what’s going on with Graveyard: he now has a distribution deal for the DVDs. Then I bumped into Yvonne and Jim strolling down Commercial Drive in the rain. They both had umbrellas. After the play, Steve (the tall guy in the play who played Joe Ferris) had the wrap party at his house. I’m fixing to borrow his book Cradle to Cradle – it looks like it will make me think. All of the actors chipped in to get the director, Dave, a gift certificate to some fancy restaurant. There was a vegetable tray and a tray of tiny sandwiches, and yummy lime tortilla chips. Somebody’s guest started to get a little too boisterous on the wine and that’s when I hit the road.

About a Boycott

Do you want to live in a world where the studios release movies a chunk at a time and charge you full price for each chunk? If so, support the new Tarantino flick Kill Bill. I will not. Miramax decided for us that it was not in our best interests to sit through a 3 hour movie, and so they cut the film in twain, releasing the installments several months apart. I have a word for that, and it rhymes with fullshit. I don’t consider myself a reactionary boycott-type, but I’m pissed off enough about the surprise non-ending of Matrix: Reloaded to simply wait for Kill Bill parts 1 and 2 to come out on rental, together. I will not let my cash give Hollywood an excuse to continue this trend by citing Kill Bill’s split release as a stunning success.