Be on the lookout for the following things in the coming months.
1. First and foremost, my book, Freak.
2. 2 separate short films. One more serious, the other more of a comedy.
3. I guess that’s all for now. Hmmm, thought I had more to actually require a list. Oh well. Upward and onward!
-M
“9.”
One. That’s the easy part. Any moron with half an ounce of luck can hit one. One is nothing to get excited about. If I only hit one number, this ticket will still only be as useful as the toilet paper in the half bath behind me.
“32.”
There we go. That’s more like it. Still nothing to get excited about, but I’m still in this game. That’s all it’s worth, to get my hopes up. Still no money to be had with two. So what? Two numbers. I could conjure up two numbers any day of the week. I almost always have two.
“27.”
Three numbers is good. I’m still only halfway there though. The big game doesn’t pay out until I hit four numbers. From paying out for this damn game every day for the last twelve years, it doesn’t get profitable until five. And only at six does it get serious. But those are still a couple heartbeats away. There’s no reason to get so bent out of shape just to be let down at number four.
“6.”
Whoopee. Four numbers. Who cares? That’s a two hundred dollar pay out. It’s a nice short term reward, trading a dollar for a couple hundred, but long term, this means little to nothing. There are bigger fish out there, with larger cash prizes in their mouths that need to be caught. I can’t stop with this bluegill of a payout, I need to hit the blue whale. But for now I just need five. Five is where I can start getting excited.
I can’t even imagine five. That would be more like it. Payout for five is almost sixteen grand. Definitely a fine chunk of money, assuming of course that five thousand other blue collar, knuckle dragging, day walkers didn’t happen to strike upon the good fortune I’ve managed to fall into.
I couldn’t imagine going into that place looking to collect my sixteen grand and being handed eighty bucks. That would send me over, absolutely right over, the edge. See, that’s the problem. That’s what I’m always saying: Other people ruin everything.
Like that vacation me and Maria took to Mt. Rushmore. What a sight of marvel to behold, marred by the couple hundred mouth breathers standing there, shoulder to shoulder with me, looking up and around at everything, talking at the top of their lungs like a pack of braying jackasses. How is a man supposed to fully appreciate the majesty and patriotism of four of the country’s greatest leaders carved into a mountain, when a little kid is spilling green slushie all over his brand new white sneakers?
Where were the parents of this child? Who knows? Off talking on their cell phone, explaining at full volume where they were, fighting for a cell signal, leaving the child to its own shoe ruining devices. What’s wrong with parents? Why don’t they take better care of their kids? They were lucky it was me and not some pedophile. Not that a kid like that wouldn’t learn a thing or two about discipline were he to get kidnapped for a few days. Not that I didn’t, in a moment of blind rage, consider taking him myself, and leaving him in a field somewhere, bound to a chair and blindfolded. Not that the parents would care. The way that little jerk was laughing as I glared at him, I would probably have done them a favor. But knowing them, irresponsible as they probably were, they would just have another one. He’d grow up to be just as disrespectful, disobedient and neglected as his missing brother. That’s what these types do. They just keep popping out tax refunds year after year, not caring that they’re just adding to a population problem that one day is going to culminate in everyone in the world standing shoulder to shoulder, packed like sardines the way Maria and I were at Mt. Rushmore that day.
Somebody should do something about all that. There are way too many people in this world. What are you supposed to do with all these people? How do you feed them? How do you control them? Something needs to be done.
“41.”
That’s five. I just hit five. That’s sixteen grand with any luck. Assuming, like I said, I’m the only one. I know I’m not going to be. There are way too many people that play this game for me to come out solely on top. That’s what I mean. Something needs to be done about all this population nonsense. Too many people crowding in on one another.
Know what I’m going to do? If this last number comes my way, if by some random chance I happen to hit this nail square in the head and walk away with the better part of 200 million dollars, there are going to be some changes around here. And not just here, in the crummy one bedroom, though that will be the first thing to go.
No, I’m thinking bigger. I need to do something. Well, someone needs to, and I figure with 200 million bucks, I could get something done. But what? Go on the black market and get me some biological weapons? Start a proper viral outbreak to thin out the ranks a little? If ever there was a way to get away with something like that, virus outbreaks would definitely be the way.
So If I want to do this right, I’ll need to figure out where to pick up a biological weapon. The internet maybe?
If I’m going to unleash an epidemic like that, I’ll need to be heavily fortified. Hole myself up somewhere. Maybe use some of that cash to build me a bunker. Better yet, one of those abandon missile silos that they have on ebay. Four hundred acres with an underground concrete bunker, landing strip and missile silo. I’ll barricade myself in nice and tight and let loose my contagion on the world. Then in five or ten years, pop my head back out and go for a stroll down the empty streets.
Ok, a biological weapon and a bunker.
How do I distribute the virus? Something that deadly, I can’t be out in it. I bet with 200 million, I could expense a rocket to be shot out of my missile silo. Have it crash down in a metropolis, or at least a decent size city. Somewhere that the disease could really manifest itself, building immunities and that, preparing it to take on the bigger places.
Ok, so a biological weapon, a bunker, and a rocket. A rocket launch would be really obvious though. That would definitely get the attention of the authorities, wouldn’t it?
So I hire a crew of bodyguards. Wait, no. I start my own small militia made up of mercenaries, or what about maybe loyal henchmen, to keep the Feds and U.N. off my doorstep. There I am, locked inside my fortified lair, surrounded by my protection, all armed with fully automatic weapons.
Alright, a biological weapon, a lair, a rocket, some mercenaries/henchmen with AK-47s. Oh, and at least five tanks. At least five.
That is going to get expensive. I hope that 200 million covers it. I suppose if not, I can get me another one of those virus rockets, or maybe a real nuke or two, and hold the government hostage until my demands for more money are met. Then I would be set.
Two or three biological weapons, a lair, a rocket, some mercenaries, over five tanks, a couple nukes.
Man, this is going to be awesome. I’m going to take this world by storm. It’s the beginning of a new era with me at the reins! They’ll never know what hit them. No more green stained new white sneakers for me, that’s for DAMN sure! Maybe I’ll even ban slushie sales. What do you think now, little boy? Not so funny is it? Huh? You and all your little weasel friends and parents will cower before me!
“3.”
Well so much for all of that.
Maybe it’s for the best. I can’t imagine how much work all of that would actually take to get accomplished. Plus, sixteen grand isn’t anything to balk at. That’s quite a bit of change that I can use to pay off the car, maybe get myself a two bedroom apartment. Maybe I’ll buy Maria a really nice necklace or something. That kind of money should buy her forgiveness for accidently backing over her pug.
Well well well, little boy, additionally his parents, furthermore the world, you’ll never know how close you came to total decimation. All the same, rest easy for now. You’re safe from my wrath. But remember: Keep it ever present in the back of your minds that there’s always tomorrow. And with ticket in hand, I’ll be here biding my time…
First of all, let me just say, I liked Battle Los Angeles.
I have taken major issue with movies in the last decade or so that manage to paint themselves into such a large and disastrous corner that the only way to wrap up the movie in the allotted one and a half to two hours is to come up with a deus ex machina that saves the day in under 8 minutes.
Some of these come from the source material: LOTR: Return of the King, War of the Worlds as two examples, so you have no choice but to save the movie’s world via bacteria in water, or an army of ghosts that slaughter everyone everywhere all the time ever, the likes of whom you should have went to first before getting a bunch of elves killed. But I digress.
That being said, there are only so many ways to get yourself out of a global alien invasion. So what do you do? You take a cue from romantic comedies and make it more about the journey than the destination. Unfortunately, there seems to only be a few journeys you can take in the action adventure fight for your life against aliens.
We follow Aaron Eckhart’s Staff Sargeant Nantz(?) plight as he is about to retire from the Marines. See, his last mission went a little pear shaped and all of his men ended up dead and now everyone finds him incompetent. Then suddenly, aliens.
Do I need to say much more? If you’ve seen at least 3 action movies in the last 25 years then you know where his storyline is going.
Remember, I LIKED this movie.
While the majority of this movie’s elements are rehashed from a dozen other movies, Battle Los Angeles does manage to make those elements its own.
Think Independence Day, not from the perspective of the President or a quirky computer nerd, but from the point of view of the frontlines. It’s grittier. I don’t want to say “more realistic” because I don’t have any experience with war or aliens, but they definitely keep it as grounded as a sci-fi movie can.
One of the scenes that sticks out is where Nantz and his group find a wounded alien and perform a crash course in alien anatomy, doing a number of different gruesome acts to figure out how to kill them. Nantz didn’t divine the solution by way of sitting on a floor drunk while his overly Jewish father berated him.
I won’t go into any more specifics because I don’t want to ruin it, and also I do remember every little bit.
The graphics were ok. The aliens were believeable enough, as well as their motives for coming to Earth. (That damn water is going to get us in trouble one of these days)
If I had to rate it –and since I’m reviewing it I damn well better– I have to give it a 3.5 out of 5. This isn’t the must have movie of our generation, finally answering all the questions you’ve ever had regarding aliens and Marines, but its fun.
Is it the Frankenstein of alien movies, pieced together by what’s come before it? Yes. And that does make it harder to get behind the characters and really invest anything in the movie. But is it fun? Of course. Is it more of a shut your mind off and let it wash over you? Yeah kind of.
Honestly though, with Hollywood, what movie isn’t these days?
Yeah? Well, I didn’t see the King’s Speech, so suck it.
Well, I added last night’s biz to the full manuscript this morning, and on top of that, I started the misadventures of Major Manny Bisley today.
It reads like a journal thus far, and I’m trying to decide what it’s to become. Ideally, its a comic book, but there are some obvious hiccups with that. The journal angle is good, but there are parts of the material that won’t lend itself very well to the journal style.
I want to do what I always do –when I actually sit down and do it– and just let the story happen as I write it, but I’ve got to decide how to write it.
On top of that, starting tomorrow I’m on my final edit. One last go around to ensure I have Freak squared to the best of my grammatical ability.
God help us all.
Wellll, it’s cold and rainy outside, and I’ve got the last chapter handwritten needing to be transferred onto the computer.
So I’m going to do that.
K, so Day 10 started off with an obvious choice as I’ve stretched some muscle I was unaware existed in the back of my leg, putting me out of running for at least today. I’ll look into it tomorrow.
I’ve been putting off writing because I’m on the end chapter of the book and I’m not sure how to make it a little stronger than it is. That’s what made me have to go running last night. My punishment for not just doing it.
After the day I had at my job, you’d think the first thing I would want to do is come home and finish this book. The problem has come when I came to the understanding that this book is going to be self-published and thus, not a way out of my infuriating job.
I find myself wondering what the point is. This is how my self-defeat works.
But the fact of the matter is, I shouldn’t run tonight. Especially now that it’s 11 at night. So I have to write. I have to force myself.
So I end my post here to get the last 3 pages done.
I’m serious, it’s 3 pages.
Note 1: Write.
Note 2: If you’re going to do this, you are no longer allowed to take more than two days off of either activity, but specifically the running part.
Note 3: I’m serious, running after not for 3 days this early in the game is detrimental to the workout and my physical well being. I seriously almost died tonight.
Note 4: You’re gonna want to ice that.
Note 5: WRITE! What is wrong with you? It’s one chapter.
Day 7 & 8 Recaps:
Day 7: Wrote for about twenty minutes and then another 3 minutes spread out over 15 minutes as I kept falling asleep.
Day 8: Once I finally started around 10:45 or 11, I flew, finally stopping at 2:15.
Took tonight off. I knew I couldn’t run as my leg muscles want to mutiny right now.
I did get a little little bit of writing done earlier in the day. But Wednesday is movie night, and those traditions are deeper rooted. Plus, the Predators started their run for the Stanley Cup tonight.
They’re off to a good start, winning 4-1 against those damned Ducks.
Back at it tomorrow!
I say Goldie Wilson Day for 2 reasons. The first being that, like Goldie Wilson, tonight, PROGRESS was my middle name. The second being, I think I’m clever despite zero proof of such a thing.
Had a moment about 9:30 when I realized I probably wasn’t going to write tonight, and determined that as such, I had some running to get to. Played 3 rounds of Zombie, Run! I survived the first, got a bit too cocky and assumed that since that first round went so well, I could up the zombie speed. Little did I realize that the game set up a total of 6 zombies directly in my path. Needless to say, I didn’t make it. So I reset, and made it home successfully, blowing past 3 zombies that were waiting for me a few houses from my apt.
Got home, realized that I wasn’t going to have much else to do tonight, so I busted out the notes, and burned through 14 pages of corrections and that. I’m going through it one more time after this edit, just to be sure we’re “good” so I felt ok about not pouring over every word this time, just making the changes I set up last time I read the sections, two weeks ago.
A good night of progress to be sure. Although I’m pretty sure if my legs south of the knees could secede and start their own body right now, they totally would.
Ok, I already covered this in twitter, but the jogging app, Zombie, Run! is awesome.
My first round was a wash. I set a destination and headed toward it, 3 or 4 Zombies behind me at a slow pace, but then the screen went white on me. So I cancelled out. They said I died, but whatever.
I reset the destination, and started on my way. I had 2 zombies in front of me almost instantly, so I booked it up the street and somehow survived. I walked a bit, safe in the knowledge they were behind me. I checked the flag at my destination point, and it was covered in zombies. How the hell you supposed to win that? I got close enough and thought maybe I’d run through them. I got 100 feet out from the finish line and they were on me.
So I reset the destination to home and upped the zombie’s speed from 2mph to 5mph. Why I thought I could do it against faster speed zombies is beyond me. Luckily I was only up against 2. They were a long way out, and could have cut me off at the pass. So I ran what I could and huffed the rest of it. Somehow I made it.
I love it. I wasn’t spending the entire run focusing on how I was going to die. I was out for about twenty minutes. I don’t think I ran any MORE than the last two times, but I definitely didn’t run any less. I actually went farther this time too, all thanks to this game.
My problems with it: The screen went white on me twice. The second time as I was almost home. Not sure what was causing it, but when I crossed the finish line, it righted itself. Could be an issue with the app itself, or just how it’s responding to my phone.
The other problem, which I don’t see as a problem but others might, the zombies aren’t all that fast. Like I said, I wasn’t sure how I made it home, but frankly, it was all because of their lack of speed. I had it set to the middle setting (the top being 8 mph) and had quite a distance to attempt to survive. So if you’re a hardcore runner, this might not be your cup of tea as it will certainly be too easy for you, but at my level, its great.
It also has a multiplayer setting, of which I can’t really test as I’m just a lonely, solo fat guy running.
I definitely recommend it, it made this chore I’ve given myself a lot more entertaining.
