THE YEAR OF THINKING MAGICALLY

It was Groundhog Day yesterday. I am told it was snowing a lot in Pennsylvania where Punxsutawney Phil does his thing. I always thought it was some remnant from native culture, but according the to internet, which these days doesn't mean a lot, it is an old Christian thing from Germany. Which is kind of weird. Predicting weather from animals just seems so pagan to me. So fun. I don't associate a lot of fun pastimes with ancient Christianity during the Dark Ages.

But I digress.

It was snowing. Hard. And as such, the big rodent stayed in its hole, signifying more winter. Or maybe more social distancing. Or more crazy folks saying there are Jewish space lasers starting forest fires. 

Any and all of those sound about right to me.

But I am a semi-magic thinker. I believe in Bigfoot and UFOs and ghosts. 

Don't get me wrong. I also dig science, know the world is a globe, and am certain there is no cabal of Satan worshipping baby killing elites out there.

When magical thinking goes becomes a format for justifying your world views, its time to give it up. Any belief system that ignores the clear reasons for things like economic inequality and points folks towards made up Boogie Men and Boogie Women is, it seems to me, obvious manipulations of the masses for political gain. 

And that sucks.

Magic thinking should be something fun to do when you're out in the woods and think you heard a Sasquatch, not a reason to storm the Capitol and kill someone with a fire extinguisher.

I wonder if those folks who think there are devil worshipping baby eaters are just finding a way to redirect their unexpressed and sublimated empathy for all the suffering children in the world who are actually in distress due to policies and corporations they have endorsed and supported? 

I hope so. I would humanize them a bit.

So yeah, I believe there will be more of this Winter of Our Discontent. 

But it will pass. I think this summer will be glorious. I think most of us have had enough of the fear and loathing and anger and dismay that have run rampant across the globe. We may have to hunker down for six more weeks. We may have to endure more feckless memes about Sleepy Joe and the Squad and who knows what else. We will probably have to read more about Bobert and Greene and the Orange One himself. 

But I think something has changed inside of us this winter. I think our souls have been tempered and strengthened. 

What has changed will reveal itself in good time.

I can't wait.

Until then, I will be in my own little hole with Phil, Sasquatch, Yeti, and Nessie.

Here's a song. It's Office of Love by Caamp. (yes, it's spelled with two "a"s. And it's groovy)

SNOW FALLING ON BIGFOOT ON MARS

It's snowing here in Denver. I always take snow as a sign to write, for a multitude of reasons. First, and most likely foremost (but that is up for debate, as my mind is a maelstrom of reasons and memory, songs and quote, movie clips and fantasies.  Be that as it may, and regardless of what is indeed foremost in my brain today) the snow speaks to me and says "keep writing" because I find snow magic and rare due to growing up in San Jose, CA. I've written about this a lot, and my latest screenplay is all about that, among other things. 

Also, one of my great mentors who has gone on to other lands lives in the snow, speaks to me through the snow, and repeats his last words to me, which were "keep writing". 

On top of that, at the end of It's a Wonderful Life, which has been my go to movie since I was in fifth grade and happened upon it one afternoon all by my lonesome and was completely swept away, when George Bailey finally wants his life back, he goes to the bridge where he tried to end it all, and starts to cry, and pleads for his life back. And it starts to snow. And that to me was a sign of providence. Of mercy. 

Also, snow is cool.

So snow tells me to write, and I obey. 

I write everyday anyway, pretty much. Although this past year has been strange in patterns and schedules and life in general. Even so, in this past year of global pandemic; massive protests against racial injustice; economic fear; selling the house I grew up in and dealing with all the ghosts that come with such an endeavor; an election that seemed to last forever culminating in the sacking of the Capitol by a bunch of seemingly brainless zealots- even with all that, snow gives me a sense of magic possibility. Of hope. 

Today, I think I will work on one of my Bigfoot projects, a storyline that was born as an alternate to what we ended up going with for a feature I worked on. 

Yes, I said feature. Sounds pretentious. But it's a fact, and I got to join the WGA because of said project, and I am rather proud of that. So there it is. A feature I worked on. 

Anyhow, I have this other idea in my maelstrom, and it would like to come out and play. 

And some jack ass in Oklahoma is trying to pass a law making it legal to hunt Bigfoot. Which really pisses me off. (click HERE for an article about it)

So Bigfoot needs some love. So peace. Some understanding. 

And a guy who finds snow magic to write about him.

Of course, Bigfoot is not a singular male person. It's a species. They are all over the world, if you believe the shows on Discovery, History, Travel Channel, and so on.

I do. 

I think Bigfeet travel between worlds, and appear to inspire us. To restore our sense of wonder and mystery. 

I wonder, when we start to colonize Mars and other planets, if the universe will provide us with mythological, cryptozoological beasts on our new worlds. 

I hope so. 

I think we need a bit of magical thinking, a bit of life to remain unexplained. 

And I'd much rather believe in Bigfoot than the Big Lie that led the zealots to the Capitol.

Also, if believing in Bigfoot ever leads me to think it's a good thing to storm a building and try and kill people, I will rethink my belief system.

Here's a song. It's I Believe by R.E.M.