Here's the plan...

... so, there is no plan. Except, that we give it our best shot. Whatever 'it' is.

I appear to have narrowed down what my problem is (well, one of them).
Too many ideas, not enough time or energy to finish them.
I did start a new script today. Hopefully I'll finish it tomorrow, or at least in a week. Then I can send it to friends for feedback (a select list of friends who write). I want to make it some time this year, and hopefully all I need from a props point of view is a pack of cigarettes, bottle of jaegermeister, bottles of beer, and glasses for Jaegerbombs, and some pizza boxes.

If I want to try for OOMPF funding I'll have to wait until I graduate midway into the year because apparently they don't take students (although I distinctly remember being involved with an OOMPF funded film last year with the director being at the Screen Academy, and they gave Hyper-Link to a producer who is studying script-writing part-time and a director doing a pHD in something film-related).

Hopefully I can do it on my own, and just steal a gaffer and soundie from SCRAD.

In the meantime, I need to sustain myself to fund these frivolous activities. So, cover band it is (luckily in a relatively busy section at the moment, also my Centrelink payments should kick in within a few weeks).

A is for Awesome

I know things. Things that people shouldn't know. Does it bother me? A little. But would you have known that by looking at me? No. I keep my unrest to myself, and so should everyone else. It's how the system works. People hear or see things they shouldn't have, they bury it deep inside, nobody hears about it ever again unless that person gets hypnotised or something stupid like that. So why am I blindfolded and hogtied in the back of a car pretending to be unconscious when two federal agents are talking about a murder as if I'm not here?

Candy? This is what passes for currency these days? And while I'm at it, let me ask you something - who wears purple to a funeral that's not for a pimp? All of these are questions more important to the ones I am currently being asked by a bunch of know-nothing dickweeds with more hair than brains (and before you interject, yes, they have crew cuts). Are they solving a murder case or trying to get the first-date chatter out of the way before trying to mount me in the cab-ride back to my place? I've heard more probing questions on The View. So what do I do? I end the pain. I spill my guts, and they spill their guts, except with vomit instead of words, and just as I don't want to eat my words, I'm sure as hell they don't want to eat theirs.

Emptiness. This is what I feel without my little secret. I've had it so long that it was a part of me. Without the constant wrestling between conscience and living a quiet life I am missing something an element of me that I must get back.

A rapper I aint. A sexually frustrated white boy, yes.

BOOM! I'm the fucking bomb, I explode while fucking
But don't get me wrong, I don't mean to point out how bad you're sucking
You fuck like a sloth, you just lie on the bed and occasionally cough,
It's not like you're snuffleupegas with those big ole' eyes that say
"I'm really sorry mister, but at least I tried"
I say this as a trained professional in the art of getting it on
As a metaphor, you're conversational skills are nothing but wrong
You're style's so bad I'm parodying you're shit in a song, but only because I care
So don't dare go around trying to put this on me
Cos ain't no punk ass gonna believe you, you'll fucking see
Three times and I didn't even get off once
This is some bullshit when only the woman cums
It bums me out, and don't you question my junk, because it's all in order
I border on the divine, so it's fair to fucking say I'm fine, it's all you
Selfish bitch, I hope you fucking die.

I don't wanna make you bouce, I wanna be loved and hated in equal amounts

Wise words. Awesome song. Maybe not wise words, but relevant to the middle class. I am not in the middle class, to I imagine that I'll be at the very least hated by someone.

Anyway, it's a new year (well, as far as 19 days can be considered new), and as usual I don't know what the fuck is coming up next. I've got plenty of unpaid film work (well, not plenty, but enough to keep me occupied over the first few months of the year), one more semester of study (gotta do a bunch of theory, but Centrelink are finally going to pay me again, so I guess it sort of balances).

Actually, I have a beef with Centrelink (OK, not out of the ordinary) about going back on youth allowance. I am continuing the same course of study, but because the course is only just recently approved for payment, I don't actually receive any money until the semester starts, whereas if I was already getting paid, the money would continue over the holidays. WTF? I've been studying full time for a year with no money and bugger all income (other than occasional cover band gigs and the few times I would be paid a meager amount to be on a film). What am I supposed to do? Get a job for 2 months? OK, fair enough, I could do part-time/casual work that I can scale back when I'm at uni again. I did try to look for work (not particularly hard), but I don't want to be someone who puts aside my aspirations just to earn a god-damn living. Don't tell me I can get a job to save up for stuff I need to do what I want, because so many people fall into the trap of getting stuck in their shitty jobs and lose all motivation to get creative.

So, here's what is potentially cool about this year (now and future):

Just about finished mixing an EP for a band that I recorded a demo song for late last year. They seem to have some interest, which could work to my advantage if they go anywhere and like what I do (which they seem to, and I don't think I'm doing too shabby a job with just the bare essentials at my fingertips). Even if they don't go anywhere, it's something that if I have my name attached to it and someone likes the sounds, they might want to know more about me. I'm hoping this is a good inroad to the studio side of things.

Feature film looking for attachments etc. I had this brought to my attention by the lovely Jules at the Screen Academy (where I currently study, albeit the fact that I should have finished by now), and I've promptly gotten my CV ready to go off. Getting paid (even if it's a reduced rate) to be on a film (one that is being shot up north somewhere) would be an amazing experience. I will do whatever job anyone needs to get on a film set and shmooze away. I can put up with heat.

World's Greatest Shave. This is a big step for me, having been with the hair for about 7 years, and having never really done any charity fundraising before. I really hope to get plenty of support for this, so I can feel good about doing it and throwing a big event at the tav to mark the occasion. Please visit my page and donate some money by credit card, or leave me a message on my facebook/phone/email telling me how much you want to donate, and whether you want to save the hair, or shave it. I have an official receipt book that I can whip out when I get your money so you can claim it on tax. Just make sure you have the money, and that I will be able to see you before the big day (or that you're able to bring money on the day).

So, yeah. Good times, I guess.

Why I'm not a good blogger

So, I stumbled across a friend's blog recently. You know, someone who makes regular entries and talks about stuff that's happening in their lives.

It got me thinking. I wondered how this person can put all of this fairly unedited stuff online for all to read, including people they know who are mentioned in stories etc. This is mainly because I guess I am a fairly personal and neurotic guy. I can't put too fine an opinion or tell a story of something that happened involving friends for fear of ruffling some feathers in a bad way. So I suppose this means I don't like to be offensive to those I know for fear they will no longer converse with me.

Who knows? I doubt that this blog is very popular, or if anybody I know bothers to read it, but if the possibility of treading on toes is there, I suppose I just can't risk it (which is strangely different to my views on art/entertainment).

So yeah, I guess I'm not really doing anything interesting on my blog because I'm lazy, neurotic, and fear rejection. I might as well just write some form of sanitised account of the news as seen by someone looking through a fly-screen with a shotgun and be liked by conservative Americans.

Hot penis sauce

So right now I’m sitting in a hole. I’m being fed fish sauce through a hose. I don’t like fish, but you know what? I’m really enjoying it, and I’ll tell you why:
Energy drinks.
They are horrible, nasty things. I know people see coffee as a bad habit, but at least it can have some class. I’m personally trying to ween myself off energy drinks and onto coffee like a regular member of society.
Of course, regularity isn’t a real thing, just a bar that can be set by anyone and at any level, and at multiple levels at the same time. It’s just more acceptable to have your bar higher than everyone else’s bar than lower, and as much as I’d like to tell everyone to fuck off and then throw my bar into the ocean, I don’t. We get conditioned to have that bar, and even if you don’t want it, you still need it. Sure, you can bend the bar, or chop it up and put parts of it all over the place, as some of the most successful people in history have done, but it’s tethered to you. You can raise it to push yourself, or lower it to justify a mistake to yourself (and maybe others).
Let’s explore what would happen if you were to drop that bar and let it fall as far as it would go. So, you have the bar, but you can’t get rid of it. You can drop it, but it will still be there. All you do is lower your standards of regularity. It’s a society’s way of keeping you in line with it’s ideals and what it views as ‘regular’, because when the bar is dragging along the ground you generally aren’t fitting in, and that doesn’t go down well, so you suffer persecution, prosecution, and general ill will. This goes against our natural drive to survive. To go under the radar, you have to at least set your bar to the same level as everyone else so you don’t stand out.
So, with age comes wisdom, and acceptance that to bring down the machine you have to get in it’s belly, and with more age comes more wisdom and acceptance that you can’t bring down the machine, and with more age comes even more wisdom and acceptance that the machine is, in fact, an OK bloke.
I’m swimming in fishy mediocrity and I’m ready to drown.