He’s an inky pool of sinuous shine
and he’s very likely in recline,
always watching, rarely speaking,
that’s the bagheera in our bedroom.
Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
He’s an inky pool of sinuous shine
and he’s very likely in recline,
always watching, rarely speaking,
that’s the bagheera in our bedroom.
My mental writing garden is such a messy place. I’m a gardener way behind his duties. Books need advertising and publishing in other venues. Finished drafts that have resided in drawers for years require editing, covers, publishing. More books are planned, others in progress. I feel like I never write enough nor do enough. There’s always more.
But into this blow the volunteers, ideas that land and begin sprouting. I already have dozens of those sprouting as potential products. From a conversation last night came another.
We were at dinner at Pie + Vine (I had the pomodoro with chicken – excellent – with a glass of Chianti). A blizzard was blanketing the Ashland evening. We thought we were done with that winter mess but it started raining – snowing – blowing between dazzling displays of sunshine earlier in the day. Now the snow had resolved to be serious. The temperature dropped and the white stuff stuck.
Another couple was with us. They were just back from Hawaii. The plan was to have dinner and catch up and then attend a preview presentation of the OSF production of ‘Shakespeare in Love’. They were talking about properties in Hawaii and asking if we were interested in becoming a fractional owner in one. Then they began speaking about ‘the January tenants’.
OMG, ‘The January Tenants’. Doesn’t that seem like a natural title for a movie or novel? It could be black comedy, mystery, thriller, or a combination of all. How about a YA zombie combination of the rest? Such possibilities were exploding. My writer leaped forward to begin writing up a concept.
“Shhh, shhh, not now,” I told him. “I’m at dinner. I’m socializing. Besides, there are so many other projects ahead of you – get in the queue.”
He wasn’t happy.
Bugger him. Writers are rarely happy, in my experience. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
I put the mental music cloud on shuffle. ‘Fortunate Son’ by CCR was one of several songs that came up.
I know it from its initial release in 1969, when I was thirteen. CCR is an awesome band that gave us a hellabunch of memorable hits like ‘Suzie Q’, ‘Heard It Through the Grape Vine,’ Who’ll Stop the Rain,’ and ‘Run Through the Jungle’. Many of later generations know this ‘Fortunate Son’ because it’s been part of so many movies and video games about war or that era in America’s history, or from one of the many other performers who have covered the song. ‘Fortunate Son’ reflected the country’s mood as the Vietnam War raged and body bags came back. It also mirrors the trend that the world’s wealthy and powerful start and sustain war, but it’s the poor, minorities and those beguiled by their desire to do their patriotic duty that end up carrying the burden.
I was one of those last, joining in 1974, serving until 1995.
“I like to dream….”
Yeah, I like to dream. Sometimes I’m bothered that I experience so many nocturnal dreams, often three to five per night that I remember. But many of the dreams are positive and uplifting.
Likewise, I like to dream and write in my head, spinning stories to myself that are written too fast and fluidly to ever find its place in reality for others to enjoy. I work at writing and publishing fiction but it is work. Besides wanting stories that keep their attention, people want correct spelling, grammar and punctuation. They want consistency and explanation. Many are also interested in ‘facts’.
Facts, bah. I’m a fiction writer.
No matter, they retort.
Bah. They’re such sticklers.
This spin of thoughts spun me back into one of my favorite early albums, Steppenwolf Live’. I wore the vinyl off that mutha. I have several favorite songs from it but went with one that resonates best with me as a dream: Magic Carpet Ride.
Ride with me as the ‘wolf performs it in Santa Monica back in 1970.
Yesterday I awoke bitter, depressed, angry, and deeply enthralled with the dark side. Today, the pendulum has swung the other way. I’m optimistic, energetic, hopeful and happy.
I’m pleased this iteration of the dark period quickly ended. Perhaps the dream about cleaning, or the thinking about the dream, was a catalyst to regaining positive energy.
Something to think about.
We’ve seen four movies in five days to cap off our annual Oscar whirl. I already posted about the terrific animated film, ‘Kubo and the Two Strings’. Following it was an absurdist black comedy, ‘The Lobster’.
Colin Ferrell, Rachel Weitz and Jenna Coleman star. These are all actors I enjoy. Their portrayals in this were all low energy, as if people were straining to comprehend what was happening. Emotional responses were muted, like too much emotion had already been expended in their lives.
We follow Colin Ferrell’s character from his arrival at the hotel and orientation. One hand is cuffed so he could appreciate, “Two is better.” The premise, that if you don’t have a mate, you will be turned into an animal, and that this is now the accepted social norm, is never explained. Nor is the hotel’s limitations on clothing so that everyone is dressed in the same manner, or having the women hunt in dresses. It’s absurd, right? None of the concepts underlying the plot are explained. You just go along with it. Strange, but engaging.
Behind ‘The Lobster’ came something one hundred and eight degrees different: an animated film about animals as people, ‘Zootopia’. The movie takes it name from the animal nation’s major urban area, Zootopia. Central to the is Judy Hopper’s dream of being a police officer, and her life as the first bunny copper in Zootopia. A crime spree has sprung up in which animals are disappearing. It’s a good movie for young people to watch. One of the baristas, a twenty year old, has watched it four times while baby-sitting children. Her take is that its message is not to stereotype people, which is demonstrated by individual’s roles as wolves, foxes, weasels, sheep and bunnies. It is more, she acknowledged. The movie takes on bullying, determination and persistence, and pursuing your goals despite obstacles. All of this is done through a clever, humorous lens that’s more slanted toward adults, such as the lemmings, all dressed the same, leaving the Lemmings Brothers building.
My wife asked, which movie, ‘Zootopia’ or ‘Kubo and the Two Strings’ would receive my Oscar vote? I loved Kubo’s beautiful, amazing artwork, and the film’s ethereal aura. I also enjoyed and admired the plucky young main character’s good nature and determination. Yet, ‘Zootopia’ edged it out to receive my vote. Kubo is better at art; I thought ‘Zootopia’ was better at entertainment. A fun movie, ‘Zootopia’ kept my interest. I would have given the Oscar to ‘Zootopia’, but the edge was the thickness of a sheet of paper.
Last, last night, we watched the documentary, ‘13th‘. This film meticulously states facts connecting the end of the civil war and the transition from black people being slaves as owned property to slaves as criminals. The documentary attacks the issues from multiple points of view, laying out a convincing narrative that letting slaves go wasn’t financially acceptable, and all the manners in which blacks, especially men, were portrayed in popular media and entertainment as criminals, thugs and murders.
Blacks naturally reacted. As blacks reacted, whites reacted. We follow the political arc, beginning with the Thirteenth Amendment. The Thirteenth Amendment abolished slavery and involuntary servitude, except as punishment for a crime. There was the out, the loophole. Blacks were locked up in greater and greater numbers as drug use was criminalized by the legal system. ALEC – American Legislative Exchange Council – established its agenda of feeding states the legislative measures and acts that furthered a reactionary social agenda but also helped its members realize increasing profits through state laws. From that, CCA – the Corrections Corporation of America, an ironic name if ever heard – is born, as is the monetized incarceration system that establishes prisons as profit centers. Now America has fallen from leading the world in many areas, but has managed to imprison more people than any other nation. And disproportionately imprisoned are blacks, and more specifically, black men.
It’s demonstrated in the documentary how the system is gained so that many blacks who are arrested, even when they’ve not committed a crime, are never convicted of a crime but end up spending time in jails and prisons through plea bargains, and how the fear of the maximum sentence is leveraged to encourage plea bargaining.
Senator Cory Booker points out that most race riots begin with incidents of police brutality. The hype over the threat from the Black Panthers is portrayed as the greatest danger to America. Footage Angela Davis’ gripping, powerful testimony in her trail is presented.
Politically, Lee Atwater’s notorious recordings are heard about how to manipulate voters. Willie Horton is brought up again, and how it turned the election for Bush. Bill Clinton’s role and his erroneous policies are shown, and their tangible impact, along with the insane, ‘Three Strikes Law’.
Political hype feeds fears; fears led to election victories; election victories lead to increased demonizing of blacks; increased demonizing leads to greater criminalizing, which develops into greater profits. A direct result is Donald Trump’ s election as ‘the law and order president’. His boogeyman are the brown people, refugees and immigrants. Guess which pretty little group of white dominated men is profiting from increased worries about immigrants and refugees?
Yes, ALEC.
As a final straw, prisons are being used as source for cheap labor for American companies to build their products. Meanwhile, poor, unemployed and underemployed people are distracted into believing the problems lie with immigrants, refugees and terrorists. And as each political party tries to regain office, they must outdo the previous administration’s stance as being tough on law and order. President Obama was finally one to begin to point out what was happening; Hillary changed her stance from hard on crime to intelligent on crime.
I recommend you see the film.
So here we have these movies, which teach our children to be strong and unafraid, to be honest and hopeful, along with one mocking our position on marriage as an institution, and finally one demonstrating the truth about how politicians and corporations manipulate and guide people to fear and hate, and vote and profits.
This, by the way, is why I march against Trump’s Agenda.
All my cats know what no means.
They know their names, and they know the other cats’ names. That they know so when the others are summoned, they can come to me instead and cat-block their fellow felines.
All my cats have learned the sounds associated with food – certain doors, drawers and cupboards opening, the sounds of can openers on cans, or can pop-tops, the rustling of food bags.
They know the sounds of us going to bed, and getting out of bed.
None of them know that the sound of rain on the roof or windows means it’s raining outside. It’s always an event that astonishes them.
They’re very selected about what they know.
To dream that you are cleaning indicates your ability to make situations more positive and to solve pressing problems. You are learning how to replace pessimistic views and beliefs with those that are more uplifting and pleasurable. This can suggest your desire to seek inner peace and enlightenment.
To dream that you are cleaning an object means that you want to improve a certain part of your personality or character. If you are cleaning the refrigerator or oven, then it implies that you want to tackle an issue head on rather than trying to solve it gradually. Perhaps you feel as if you have reached a stagnant position in your life and you are unsure of where to go from there.
To dream that you are cleaning out a desk implies that you have decided to shed unfavorable pressures and instead follow a new path. You now comprehend the fact that you have options and choices to make; you are not stuck in the same rut.
h/t to dreamforth.
I dreamed I was cleaning last night. Once again I was returned to military life, where I enjoyed the structure. Expectations were clear and you were rewarded for doing an outstanding job. I liked that.
In this dream, I was rushing to get dressed in the military. Part of a large building, I hurried to find my gear and then to a shower to clean and shave. Finding one, a person of lessor rank, someone who I knew, confronted me and told me I had to clean the shower.
I was outraged. Number one, why should I need to do that, now, without expectations established? Number two, who was this person of lower rank to tell me that I was clean this shower? Why not one of the many other people milling around there?
I was furious. Nothing like the wrath of an experienced senior NCO. We knew how to do angry and focus it like lasers.
I did so in my dream. Everyone shrank away, the cleaning supplies left behind. This pissed me off, too. Feeling it needed to be done, angry that others had shirked their duties, I began cleaning. Unfortunately, as I cleaned, I saw how filthy it was. I was resigned; I was cleaning it, so personal ethics insisted I do an outstanding job.
So I cleaned and cleaned, scrubbing away mold and soap scum. Then, I found something that belonged to me. Oh, was I surprised. With more cleaning, I found more of my materials there. I then began to see that the person who confronted me was trying to explain it was my doing, something I refused to accept and understand. Instead of trying to understand, I was brow-beating them with rank.
On waking and thinking about the dream, I realized that this was another recurring dream. I have dreams about being in the military, but I also have specifically oriented dreams about those periods. Cleaning a common room, like the shower, was one such dream.
The question, why do I continue to dream about cleaning in the military, led me to dreamforth. Is it correct? I don’t know. I was surprised to awaken in a surly, low-energy, blackheart mood. Considering that cleaning in dreams might be a way of trying to tell myself that I needed to seek new balance or improve was my dream entity’s way of trying to help me cope.
As I wrote about my dreams and my personal life today, I drifted through thoughts about my characters. I’d worked hard to develop each to be unique but each has their own hook.
Handley, the space pirate, is embroiled with inner disappointment and dissatisfaction with who she is and what she’s become. She wants more but doesn’t know what she wants. She thinks herself brave. Physically, she is brave. Morally, she’s a coward.
Pram, the colossus and employed terraforming supervisor, is self-assured and relaxed. The changing situation challenges him in ways he never expected to be challenged, which leads to self-inspection and growth, but also causes a hardening against trusting others.
Brett, the footloose fourth-waver, hates dying and being resuscitated, regenerated and resurrected, but he also dislikes life. His alienation had been growing throughout his life. He’d never noticed because he’d taken refuge in memory and sex. Both are artificial, external constructions that are extensions of his personality; they’re not real, but they’re safe. Eventually, as it happens so often, his familiarity with them and they with him breeds a contempt that drives him to actively seek a change. Even he’s unaware of how the depths of his needs.
Philea is a trained scientist. She loves her math, her physics, her learning. People aren’t a need nor desire. She’s enamored with the puzzle of the situation. ‘Doing right’ is secondary to ‘finding answers’.
Forus Ker, a Travail, is the most complex character on the surface. He changes the most as he actively seeks to understand himself and develop his skills and talents while embracing the role his people (or destiny – or is it a God?) has thrust upon him. He never wavers from trying harder and doing more.
Then there are others. Monads, who believe in their manifest destiny and are contemptuous of others in their species and in other species who don’t recognize and accept their superiority. There are the Sabards and the complex role they’ve established for themselves and the altruism they consistently demonstrate. And there are the other Travail, who have come the farthest in grasping how wrong their understanding of existence is and how little they truly understand.
On some days, before I begin a new section, I need to consider which character is in the lead for those scenes, and what they know and when they know it, and then, the overarching characteristics and behavior that drives their decisions and actions. Few of them are pure in their intentions. Sometimes their emotions (save Philea, so far) dictates behavior counter to their best interests. Other times, especially with Handley and Forus Ker, they’re following orders that they don’t understand, but which they decide they must do.
Then, as other characters, are space, time and technology. Things break down, evolve, or dissolve with sudden revelations. They are also considered as each new scene is begun. Sometimes I realize that I’ve overlooked one aspect or another and go back to rewrite on the floor. I feel like I’m looking at sprawling mosaic that’s telling the history of a complex encounter. I slip in to get the closer look necessary to see, hear and explain to the reader what’s going on. But once in a while, I get trapped in the mosaic and find the need to extricate myself and gain distance once again to see the other parts.
Once separation is established and clarity is recovered, I take a deep breath and go back in.
Another from the past, and perhaps a repeat. This one springs from my days in San Antonio, Texas. I was stationed there for various needs three times. This song comes from my third iteration of military life there.
Assigned to Randolph-Brooks AFB and Air Training Command, working in the command post in the building called the Taj Mahal, we lived in base housing. We said it was San Antonio but in actuality, it was Universal City. San Antonio seemed like a much smaller, more relaxed town back then. When you drove the loops around the city, you rarely encountered a business and few other vehicles. Not like now, where all the land is filled in.
It was a pleasant assignment, not taxing at all, and quite boring. We were in base housing in a two bedroom/one bath place on the first floor. My cousins were regular visitors, a cool deal. It was Glen who brought the new Pink Floyd album, ‘The Wall’, to my attention. Besides Pink Floyd, Glen was a large fan of Steve Martin and ‘Star Wars’. He now lives just outside of Philly in PA.
So here it be, as heard in 1980, the year after the album was released, as we drove my brown Pontiac Firebird up to Stinky Falls to ride the cold river on inner tubes on a hot summer day, Pink Floyd and ‘Another Brick in the Wall’.