Thursday, November 18, 2010

2012

Is it the end of the world as we know it? And do I feel fine? Do you? Does anyone? I have been watching a lot of shows on the cable about the Mayan calendar, end of days, and all that- and I sometimes wonder: What if the world does end in 2012? What does that mean to me, right here and now?

Well, first off- I think that would suck, because even if I got a script sold and a movie was made from it and I won an Oscar- I'd only have a year or less to enjoy the good life- the money, the accolades, the travel. You know, all that stuff we all think about when we buy that lottery ticket. Wouldn't it suck to finally have that dream come true, just
in time to look up and see a massive tidal wave crashing over the Rockies? Or a fleet of invading ships from Planet X? I mean it- the end of the world would really be a drag for my personal goals.
So, I think, on top of writing every day, sending out query letters, entering contests for writers, and all that- I am going to try and do something for myself everyday. As if it's the last day of my life.

For instance- there's this crazy lady who wanders my neighborhood with her little dog. She's nice enough, I suppose, but doesn't seem to be able to stop talking, ever. I don't really know what she talks about, because the moment she begins to speak, my mind sort of numbs out, my eyes glaze over, and I just smile and try to appear like I'm actually listening to her. This can go on for five, ten minutes- maybe longer sometimes. (it's hard to tell, as time loses all meaning when stuck in conversation with her) Well, that's time wasted. Time that could, and should, and will be better spent. There's a worldwide apocalypse coming, for crying out loud. I can't listen to the latest adventures of Fluffy the dog who really needs a bath. So, next time she approaches me, I'm going to say "Shut up, crazy dog lady!" Hmmm. Okay, that's a little too harsh. I know, I'll say "If you don't have a point to speaking, I shan't listen." No, too snooty. Alright, I've got it. Next time our paths cross, I'll just turn around, and briskly trot off in the other direction. Subtle, yet clear. Perfect.



















Also, and this is from something I saw on the tv show- I have decided that from now on, whenever I am flying anywhere, when it comes time for me to be patted down or x-rayed or whatever it is, I'm just going to go ahead and get naked. Why not? Along with making it easier for everyone involved, it's fun. There was a time in my life where I got naked in public quite a lot. I stopped when it went from being a spur of the moment type of thing into an institutionalized thing. Well, time for the skin to come back. Be ready, fellow travelers. In fact, I urge you all to do the same. I think, somehow, everyone getting naked more often will make the world a more harmonious, kinder place.

And while I'm on this whole make my life better before it's over kick, I think I shall be brutally honest with people. Like the next time I'm at some fast food joint, and I get that thousand miles away stare from the person behind the counter, I'll just tell them "you need to get out of this hell hole and do something else- anything else- with your life. Hell, rob banks if you have to- don't shoot anyone or anything like that, just take the money from those banker bastards and go to Rio or something. Alright, scratch the bank robbing thing- become a cat burglar. It's safer and sounds cooler. And speaking of banks, from now on, whenever I go to one, I shall inform the tellers that they work for devils, and if I see any real bankers there, I'll either flip them the bird or at least give them a very mean look.

And one more thing. I will no longer read the results of any polls. I mean, who cares what thousands of other people think? Do I know these people? How many of those thousands polled are either crazy dog ladies, or bankers, or non- streaking bankers? Throughout history, there are many, many, many instances of thousands of people getting behind some really stupid ideas. Case in point- is there anyone in the country who doesn't think at least one of the people who got elected in this last cycle is a total jerk off, and that the people who elected said jerk off are themselves massive jerk offs?
Already, I feel better about the approaching doom of civilization.

Friday, November 12, 2010

RIDDLE LOST

Okay. So I've been busy, writing lots of stuff- new short play, new long play, new screenplay-
Busy Busy Busy.
Now it's time to hear feedback. I've decided to put part of new play on blog. See what people think. If they dig it, groovy.
The New play is titled "Riddle Lost". Here is first few pages.

AN OPEN SIDE-SHOW TENT IN THE MIDDLE OF A CARNIVAL MIDWAY. INSIDE, A TABLE WITH A CRYSTAL BALL; OTHER TABLES AND SHELVES ARE FULL OF: ICONS- MYSTICAL, RELIGIOUS, AND CULTURAL; RELICS OF THE OLD WEST; AND ARTIFACTS OF VARIOUS NATIVE AMERICAN CULTURES. A PHANTASMAGORIC WILD WEST SHOW ATMOSPHERE FILLS THE ROOM. AGAINST THE BACK WALL IS AN OLD STYLE CIGAR STORE INDIAN. HEL, NORSE GODDESS OF DEATH, SITS AT THE TABLE, HUNCHED OVER A DECK OF TAROT CARDS. A LONG BLACK VEIL COVERS HER FACE. SUDDENLY, SHE SITS UP. JEFFERSON RIDDLE ENTERS.

RIDDLE
Excuse me, miss?

Hel does not move. Riddle politely waits for her to answer.

RIDDLE (cont’d)
Hello?

He looks around the room, pokes his head out of the tent, then back inside.

RIDDLE (cont’d)
Could you tell me-

Hel raises her hand to silence him.

HEL
Who are you?

RIDDLE
I’m...I’m Riddle.

HEL
Riddle?

RIDDLE
My name-

HEL
Your name is a riddle?

RIDDLE
No- my name is Riddle.

HEL
Am I’m supposed to figure it out?

RIDDLE
Figure what out?

HEL
Your name.

RIDDLE
My name?

HEL
You’ve come here seeking answers, no?

RIDDLE
No. Yes. I’m not sure.

Hel places a Tarot card on the table.

HEL
You lie.

RIDDLE
No.

HEL
You say you’re a riddle.

RIDDLE
I come from a long line of Riddles.

HEL
Don’t we all?

RIDDLE
My father was a Riddle-

HEL
My father is the King of Riddles.

RIDDLE
Look, Miss...I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.


HEL
I didn’t throw it.
Hel stands, slowly walks to Riddle, until she is standing right before him. She sniffs the air.

RIDDLE
Miss?

HEL
Silence!

Hel takes Riddles hands, smells them, then drops them.

HEL (cont’d)
Hel.

RIDDLE
I apologize if I’ve upset you.

HEL
I am not upset. I am Hel, Queen of the Dead. And you are?

RIDDLE
I told you- I’m Riddle. Jeff C. Riddle. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? I wrote a book once.

Hel reaches out and begins to feel the top of Riddles head.

RIDDLE (cont’d)
What are you-

HEL
You hope I will show you clearly what has become clouded with time.

RIDDLE
No. Could you tell me where I am? Last thing I remember I was in my car-

HEL
You seek a boy and a man and a legend and a body.

RIDDLE
I do?

HEL
You don’t know what you want.

Hel slowly lifts her veil, looks directly into Riddles eyes.

HEL (cont’d)
You don’t even know you’re dead.

RIDDLE
I’m dead?

HEL
Tell me- in that last memory- the one of you in the car- do you remember anything else? Like a truck coming at you with great velocity?

RIDDLE
Truck?

HEL
Yes, truck. Riddle me this- when a truck hits a car head on, what usually happens to the man in the car?

RIDDLE
So you’re saying I’m dead?

HEL
Look into my eyes.

Riddle looks into her eyes, shivers, backs away.

RIDDLE
What’s...what’s happening?

Hel walks towards him, their eyes locked.

HEL
Don’t you know?

RIDDLE
Are you hypnotising me?

With effort, Riddle looks away. Hel reaches out, turns his face back to her.

HEL
I’m measuring the thread of your soul.

RIDDLE
If I’m dead, why don’t I feel any different than I did before?

HEL
How did you feel before?

RIDDLE
Hard to describe.

HEL
Try. Tell me what your life was like.

RIDDLE
Sometimes good. Sometimes...not.

Hel sees something in his eyes.

HEL
The Everytime...what’s that?

RIDDLE
How do you know about the Everytime?

HEL
Tell me.

RIDDLE
Oh, well- the Everytime is...was...it’s just a theory I had. Have. About life, memory, things like that. Every now and then, all my memories sort of just happen again. All at the same time. Like a tule fog made of memory and time.

HEL
The Everytime?

RIDDLE
Yes.

HEL
Tell me about the tule fog.

RIDDLE
It’s a really thick fog that hits from out of nowhere- we had it a lot where I grew up.

HEL
Where was that?

RIDDLE
Lost River.

HEL
A river was lost?

RIDDLE
No. Well...actually, I suppose you could say that. Yes.

HEL
More.

RIDDLE
Sometimes- often when whiskey is involved- I get sort of...I don’t know...like I become part of my memories, part of that fog. Lost in the Everytime. And it always feels like it’s supposed to mean something- but I can never figure...never quite stitch all the moments together. I thought that after I wrote my book I might have... but even that wasn’t- I don’t know. What was your question again?

HEL
What was your life like?

RIDDLE
Confusing.

HEL
It wasn’t always like that.

RIDDLE
No.

Hel turns and goes back to the table and sits.

HEL
Let us gaze into the past.

RIDDLE
Is this some kind of side show or something?

HEL
Sit.

Riddle goes to the table and sits. Hel looks at the crystal ball.

HEL (cont’d)
Now, why don’t you tell me what your name used to be.


So, is that goofy, or should I post more?

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