Some Information about That Class I Took and The Rest of the Weekend

I spent about 17 hours of my weekend taking a class that was supposed to help me become a better writer in the world of writing things for television or movies. I am not going to address whether or not I feel as though my abilities in the aforementioned sphere have been augmented by this intensive course as I have no way to judge such a thing seeing as the last time I wrote a script of any kind was nearly a year ago and I have not, in the seven or so hours I’ve been out of class, written anything. The same can’t be said for my classmate, who spent most of today writing fifty-some pages of a spec script - a follow up episode to the pilot the instructor of the course gave us. I can’t imagine doing this (both writing such an enormous amount in a short period of time or writing so much for something that sucks so bad), but I can’t say that my use of the past three days’ time has been any more respectable, in fact the exact opposite is probably the case.

Listen, I’ll explain a couple things. The course was taught by a guy, Jeff Strauss, who knows a pretty good amount about being successful in the world of writing very standard sitcom fare. The guy wrote for “Friends” for a number of years, and has also worked on “Reba,” so you can really get a feel for what other things he’s done might be like. Despite the fact that the credits to his name did little to excite my confidence in his depth of character or understanding of humor the guy did a reasonable job of filling up enormous amounts of time with anecdotes I’m no longer able to remember as I write this, while occasionally dropping pieces of information one might find useful. The only trouble with the useful things he did teach us is the fact that they could probably be just as easily communicated in a book on the same subject, and I happen to know that many such books exist as I have been constantly told to read them by people who live across the living room from me. This is all sort of besides the point though, what I really want to tell you about is what I actually did accomplish with my weekend in this class, and that’s a small amount of non-dramatic writing that contains a very small amount of utility.

Let me clarify: I wrote two (very) short stories, one poem and one rap (the subject of both being one Jeff Strauss), one piece of dialogue, and a number of fake letters from famous people. One one of the short stories and the piece of dialogue were class exercises for which we were allotted 20 minutes, while the fake letters from famous people were used mostly as a means of entertaining Muffin and myself as we sent them to one another via Bluetooth as the classroom itself was not equipped with any kind of internet. Finally, the second short story is a realistically fictitious account of what happened in the class. It’s far from finished, but I promise you will get to read it upon its completion. I will, however, share with you the piece of dialogue I wrote (and had to read aloud to a room full of non-receptive listeners), both the poem and the rap as well as the letters from famous people.

"A Poem about Jeff Strauss"

This is a poem about Jeff

LOOK AT MY SOUL PATCH!

LOOK AT IT LOOK AT IT LOOK AT WHAT I’VE DONE
With my facial hair.
To my facial hair.
At my facial hair.
I made a soul patch with it
I am a soul patch with it

Souls get Holes

Every
Soul
Needs
Patching


My shirt is blue, my jeans are blue.

I AM JEFF


WHEN I WAS AT TUFTS I DIDN’T HAVE A SOUL PATCH BHAAAA

This poem might, to those who have never seen or met Mr. Strauss, be a bit confusing. It's important to know, and I probably should have mentioned this fact, that Jeff has a soul patch, a form of facial hair that I find to be almost impossible to look at and infinitely upsetting. I speculate that most of his power comes from this feature of his, and as such most of what I've written relating to him has what might seem an undue amount of focus on the square of hair just above his chin. Anyway, here is the rap about Jeff Strauss I wrote, it is in the style of the old school.

"This is the rap about Jeff"

WELL MY NAME IS JEFF STRAUSS
AND I ROCK THE HOUSE
WITH MY FLY SOUL PATCH
I BORE YOU TO DEATH WITH MY VERBAL BOUTS

I TAKE SCREENPLAY DUMPS
YEAH MAN I SHIT SCRIPTS
IF I’D BEEN ALIVE IN THE 60’S
I WOULDA OWNED BEWITCHED

NOW WHEN I SAY “SOUL” YOU SAY “PATCH!”

[16 minutes of call and response until drum loop ends]

Again, I can see how this might be upsetting to people who were not in the class. I should also explain why everything is written with caps lock on: it was the easiest way to share the information found on my laptop's screen with Muffin who was sitting next to me. He has pretty bad eyesight, and we both wear glasses, so it was important to take that into account when sharing our extracurricular writing activities with one another.

Now, here are letters that it would appear famous people wrote to Muffin and Me while we were in class. There was another letter from Stanley Kubrick to Someone in the Class that did not survive the great OSX upgrade/frustrationfest my computer experienced this weekend (more on that never), but you might like to know that the letter from Kubrick was the best of them all.

DEAR MLS,

HEY OK ITS ME ARONSORKINISITARONSORKINYESITSAARONSORKIN OK SO HI LISTEN I WANTED TO THHHHHANK YOU FOR WATCHING MY SHOW STUDWESTWINGSPORTSIO60NIGHTTHE ALL THE WAY TO THE END EVIN THO NOBODY LIK IT OK I AM RITING LETTRS TO EVERYONE WHO WATHED IT SO HERE IS YOUR LETTER OK THANK YOU GOO

DBY

E

RN SORKN

--

DEAR MUFFIN

THIS IS TAKESHI MIIKE. I AM VERY DISAPPOINTED WITH YOU FOR LETTING YOUR GIRLFRIEND AND ALSO YOUR OTHER FRIEND WATCH ONE OF MY MOVIES. YOU SHOULD HAVE TRIED HARDER, YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE LET THIS HAPPEN.

I NEVER WANTED IT TO BE LIKE THIS

TM

--

DEAR MILES,

I GUESS YOU'RE WONDERING WHY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS LETTER. WELL, I GUESS THE ONLY EXPLANATION IS THAT I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO WRITE A LETTER TO ME. WHEN I GOT TIRED OF WAITING, I WROTE THIS LETTER. WHEN I GET TIRED OF WRITING THIS LETTER, I WILL SEND IT. I HOPE YOU ENJOY MY SONGS BECAUSE I WRITE ALL OF THEM THINKING ABOUT YOU AND WHAT A COOL GUY YOU ARE.

XOXOXOXOXO
JOHN DARNIELLE

PS
I LOVE THAT YOU GUYS CALL ME MONTY N GOAT. THAT IS HILARIOUS. ANYWAY BYE

--

DEAR MUFFIN,

THIS IS JEFF STRAUSS. YOU MIGHT BE WONDERING HOW IT IS THAT I AM WRITING A LETTER TO YOU AT THE SAME TIME AS I SIT IN FRONT OF THE CLASS EXPLAINING INFORMATION ABOUT PIAGET. DON'T WORRY ABOUT THIS. LISTEN, DURING LUNCH I TOOK A PRETTY SERIOUS SCREENPLAY DUMP. I THINK IT'S A GOOD START, BUT I'D REALLY LIKE YOU TO READ IT OVER TO GIVE ME SOME FEEDBACK ON IT. YOU COULD EVEN DO SOME EDITS OR RE-WRITES IF YOU LIKE. TALK TO ME AFTER CLASS.

ALSO, I WANT TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT YOUR FACIAL HAIR, BUT THAT'S REALLY A CONVERSATION BETTER HELD FACE TO FACE - OR FACE TO PATCH AS IT WERE.

REGARDS,

JEFF STRAUSS

And finally here is the short piece of dialogue I wrote in order to better understand whatever it was I was supposed to be understanding in the class. The scene is this: a friend calls his friend on the phone to tell him something.

G:
Hello?

R:
Oh my god dude you’ll never even believe it

G:
what? Who is this?

R:
it’s Royce man, I’m down at the convenience store and it is just insane what is going on down here

G:
what do you mean? Are you alright?

R:
What? Of course I’m all right I’m calling you to tell you about how what’s happening

G:
so tell me already

R:
George Clooney is down here and he is so upset

G:
George Clooney? Like George Clooney George Clooney?

R:
yes exactly George Clooney George Clooney

G:
What’s he doing? What’s he so mad about?

R:
who knows what set him off but he is just furious. He is screaming at everybody in the parking lot

G:
What’s he saying?

R:
it’s hard to even tell at this point he’s just sort of deteriorated into syllables, you know? Oh- oh no he’s coming this way

G: Is he going to hit you I mean does george clooney get that angry

R:
oh he looks that angry right now

G:
is he still coming after you?

R:
n- no not anymore, he got distracted by a parking meter. He’s yelling at it now

G:
what?

R:
ohp now he’s trying to, he’s trying to pull it out of the ground and the police are here

G:
are they arresting him?

R:
they’re trying, man I mean you don’t just arrest George Clooney when he’s like this

G:
I guess not

R:
anyway listen I should probably get out of here I don’t want to have to answer like a million cop questions, considering my record and all that they might think I was involved

G:
alright I guess I’ll talk to you later?

R:
yeah mean I’ll give you call

G:
bye

That's about it for that I guess. Also, as promised, I carved that pumpkin mentioned previously on this blog. I consider the outcome to be a full success, especially given the limited visual nature of the source material. You will find a picture of my accomplishment immediately below these words.

Here is How the Situation has Improved

I guess I owe the world some kind of apology, or at least a retraction. Maybe not the world, as it had very little to do with what’s happened, but you get the idea. You see, the Problem I informed you about on Wednesday has seen a kind of resolution. Thanks to the dutiful efforts of one AK, The Place is now thoroughly pumpkin’d. I plan on butchering sometime in the evening, but we all know how plans go. I know I should take occurrences like this one as evidence that the world is not a looming, terrible, monstrous place that is dead-set to ruin everything, so I will. This is called [some kind of] irony, and was all anybody wanted to write about in the nineties.

Information on my success or failure to craft a view-worthy jack o’lantern will be shared as it becomes available, though this coming weekend will be a time of little respite as zombie movies and this endeavor* devour the better part of my time. Also, like so much of the Mac-having, glasses-wearing, obesity-afflicted Internet I am excited for This in a way that poses substantial danger to my heart and capillaries.

*for more fun Information about this go Here.

What Troubles has the Season Brought?

What kind of world is it where a reasonable human being (me) is unable to get a decent (symmetrical, medium-sized, mold-free) pumpkin in the month of October? I will have you know that I am extremely upset by the situation I find myself in (what else is new, right?) and I’m at a bit of a loss. On Sunday I went into Davis Square with designs to obtain one of the season’s standard orange gourd-like objects. My co-agent on this important mission directed me to a small grocery alcove where I found for purchase a couple of sub-ideal pumpkins. I opted to forgo this purchase, my thoughts being that a better product could be obtained at a different store some distance away, I was convinced that I was absolutely right about this information - this is called (I think) hubris and was the most popular thing to write about 2400 years ago. Passing up good opportunities for perceived greater fulfillment down the line and at some unreasonable geographic expense is one of those unshakeable recurring themes, it would seem. I know I don’t have to tell you how this mission ended (disaster), but I will anyway.

We went all the way down to That Main Grocery store (the one that decided to be open 24 hours a day sometime about a year and a half ago, a decision I remain thankful for), to find large empty boxes in front of the store’s main door, boxes that at one time held pumpkins. Scattered around the entryway were pumpkins with ideal proportions and reasonable symmetry, but they all had a serious problem: they had faces painted on them. Listen, I don’t pretend to know every Halloween tradition that exists on this stupid planet, but it seems to me that buying a pumpkin that has been pre-painted (or pre-carved, had that been the case) is a lot like buying food that someone else has already chewed up. Sure, you’ll get the same physical benefits (pumpkin ownership), but you will miss out on the most important part of said benefit: the process of transforming something that is large, heavy, perishable and entirely useless into something into which fire can be placed, a process that requires at least one large knife and a number of much, much smaller ones.

So what happened? I refused to buy one of the pre-painted pumpkins, because I am a man of deep, stubborn, illogical principles. Pumpkins should not be painted, that is an opinion I hold onto pretty tightly. I should not have to buy a 16 pound piece of produce that someone has already fucked up on a cosmetic level in order to accomplish a simple goal I set for myself (the goal being in this case to carve a 5-year-old-otter into a pumpkin). I know there are those out there who would disagree with me, but I also know that where they come from the ground smokes and what few pumpkins there are that can find purchase in the scattered plots of soil between expanses of concrete grow to be withered and anemic.

This Is Not That Information about Typewriters You Requested

It is, instead, some vector art of an Underwood No. 5 done in that hateful program I have Previously Complained About. Now you have to look at it as that Information you requested continues to await its transmission.



As a special bonus you can now also look at an Oliver No. 3 in addition to the Underwood. You are, as always, infinitely welcome.

What is The Terrible Thing I Did Today?

I can’t even believe that I did what I did today. Today I used Unix in one of its hateful CLI forms. I haven’t had to deal with Unix in A While, the last time being a couple years ago when I would wake up and go to bed without eating between the two (this wasn’t Unix’s fault, but my bi-weekly exposure to it for a 3 month stretch didn’t help). Despite the problems of the past lying behind me where they belong, I knew, deep down in my heart of hearts, that I was going to have to deal with Unix again. This morning when I woke up to the sound of two different alarms and one person (me) swearing I could feel, either by intuition or by delicate sense organs not yet understood by modern science, that today would be different from yesterday and the many yesterdays that preceded it. Today would be a day of having to know a very small amount about Unix, and probably eating less than is recommended by dieticians, friends, relatives, and the like.

Was I right? I was right. About everything. I hope I don't have days like This One for a While.

Here is My To-Do List

In case you had a burning curiosity regarding what things I feel are important to get done. There will be no order, be it alphabetical, priority, logistical or otherwise.

1. Finish That Thing
2. Finish The Other Thing
3. Fed-Ex The Broken Thing
   
4. Prepare for A Different Thing
5. Buy Food
6. Finish A Different God Damned Thing
7. Get Started on a Thing
8. New Shirt, Get?
9. Mail That Thing
10. Address A Thing (not related to #9)
11. Haircut
12. More Stuff
13. Carve Jack O'Lantern (time permitting)
14. Read Those Things
15. Finish To-Do List
    

What is the Weather doing Right Now #5

Things have changed - October is now settled in fully, and with it comes its signature sense of trouble. The weather of late has adjusted itself accordingly: after what seemed like an entire week of half-hearted rain things have cleared slightly, though the temperature remains subdued. It is currently 53 degrees, cloudy, and quiet.
It's a strange time of year I guess.

Here is Another One of Those Many

There is so much potential for this piece of electrical equipment, but I lack so many of the necessary skills to make it entirely functional. It is worth noting, however, that the radio and the speakers are both in excellent condition, and produce a very serious amount of sound with a somewhat serious amount of hissing.

Didn't Wear my Glasses Today (Here's how That Went)

I could tell you all about what inspired the decision to go without corrective lenses today, but I won’t. It’s unnecessary and less interesting than even you would suspect. What is important is that I can, if need be, function on an entirely normal level without two thumb-sized pieces of curved glass in front of my face, and it’s nice to, on occasion, be reminded of this. It’s also nice to remember what life was like before I became a glasses-wearer (a demographic of people who are, from an evolutionary point of view, poor candidates for procreation - there is an old rhyming adage that condenses this thought but I won’t insult your awareness of adages by reproducing it here). Like essentially any decision to deviate from the norm, however, today’s atypical optical situation was not without its missteps. Here we go:

10:00 a.m. Woke up to the same (arguably unhealthy) sounds I always wake up to after retiring sometime after 5 a.m. As I rarely/never fall asleep wearing glasses this part of the day was unchanged by my decision, and at this point I hadn’t even officially made that decision.

10:36 a.m. Watched the pilot episode of “It’s Gary Shandling’s Show.” the combined blessings of being of impeded sight and watching a program filmed in blurry “1986 sitcom-o-vision” made bearable the incredible visual burden that is viewing Shandling’s face.

11:31 a.m. Got a new pair of headphones from the Internet. Spent a pretty long time looking very hard at them trying to figure out where the markings designating the right and left earpieces were.

11:54 a.m. Heard a loud noise from outside, localized in the driveway area. The downstairs neighbors had been cooking delicious-smelling food since sometime this morning. Following the noise there was the sound of enough fast, running water to make a body nervous, but further information about the situation was unavailable, due less to my un-bespectacled status and more to a dearth of desire to investigate.

12:10 p.m. Did not look closely enough at the dial’s setting on the toaster. Essentially ruined two perfectly good Eggo waffles.

1:47 p.m. Walked to work. While having lower visual acuity softened the always-upsetting reality of seeing frustratingly dumb (read: on skateboards) people out and about in the world beyond The Place, a gnat flew into my eye. This sort of thing wouldn’t have happened had I been wearing glasses. This sort of thing shouldn’t happen at all.

2:22 p.m. Didn’t recognize a d-bag (accurate technical term) patron at work because of vision/apathy. Had to pretend to tolerate the guy because he is a friend of a friend who has the most bothersome friends.

8:40 p.m. Fell asleep without particularly intending to after taking care of important business. This (falling asleep without meaning to) is easier to do while not wearing glasses, as one must make the conscious decision to remove said articles before checking out, thus providing evidence against disputed accidental naps.

10:58 p.m. Woke up. See the first half of the second sentence in the 10:00 a.m. entry.

11:30 p.m. Made peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies. Had no trouble reading the directions or measuring the ingredients. Had some trouble cracking the eggs, but I blame this on the fact that I was mixing in a plastic, tupperware-y bowl and not in an honest metal one. The cookies turned out wonderfully.

2:40 a.m. Was extremely startled by sounds coming from my bedroom window. As it happened, CC was on the front porch and had been knocking on/speaking through the window, activities that were obscured by the desirable qualities possessed by aforementioned headphones. Locating the source of the muffled noises in the dim light of the room was difficult without glasses, and the fact that I was not properly dressed did not help my clarity of vision or thought. CC delivered some news.

3:17 a.m. (now) The day is over, I am having no trouble typing this entry without glasses. Of course, as I am a lazy human being I will refuse to do any proofreading on this piece, glasses or no, so mistakes you may have found are not the fault of deficient eyesight.

Conclusion: now that I am no longer in a position to operate a motor vehicle, and the fact that anything that I will fiercely ignore any information presented to me on overheads, chalkboards, or in slideshows leads me to believe that I have, after 2 years, 6 months and 8 days of glasses-wearing, surpassed the need for corrective lenses. That said, I will continue to wear them. The end.

Here are This Weekend's Movie Reviews

(movie posters link to previews)

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007)

This movie’s title is so long, it’s insane. It’s as though this movie took its naming conventions from today’s frustratingly/unsurprisingly assholeish indie music scene, where every band’s name is like three lines long or else consists of just punctuation marks. This is not relevant to the quality of the film. How was this movie: Long. Also, slow (though “deliberate” is probably a nicer and more accurate way to describe it). Also, gorgeous. Conclusion about this movie: Casey Affleck is much better than his brother, and rumors that Brad Pitt’s D would appear in this film are false. It is entirely D-less. This movie is a "should-watch."

The Darjeeling Limited (2007)

This movie answers the question “What has Wes Anderson been up to since he was in that American Express commercial?” It also answers the question “Can Wes Anderson make a buddy/road (train)/Wes Anderson movie?” The answer to the first question is “Hotel Chevalier,” and the answer to the second question is “yes.” Conclusion about this movie: Adrien Brody is the best person to have been banned from SNL. This movie is a “should watch 3 times in a week and-a-half and should haul one’s ass to Harvard Square at all hours of the morning and evening in hopes of getting passes to the Brattle’s screening, the one that Wes Anderson and Jason Schwartzman will be attending but god dammit they (the passes) are impossible to get.”

Any Which Way you Can (1980)

I am going to be honest with you here: if you have already seen "Every Which Way but Loose" (1978) you do not need to see "Any Which Way you Can." While the capers of Clint Eastwood and the orangutan Clyde are heartwarming and all, I really couldn't suspend my disbelief enough to accept the idea that the Nazi bikers would be able to set aside their grudge with Eastwood's character long enough to beat the living hell out of a bunch of sleazy New York mafioso guys. This movie is a "watch the original, or, if the original is not available, "Smokey and the Bandit" instead."

Why is Today going to be a Good Day?

Because:


The Darjeeling Limited (Hell yes!)

It was good the last time I saw it, it can only get better. Also, I missed an important meeting and am now probably In Trouble with a guy who has a beard and thinks that being reasonable all the time is the best way to get on my good side. Fuck that part of today