Yup...Lookin' at You

Figured if I can't find the time to blog, so I keep telling myself, I should at least stumble over moments enough for adding fave movies to my profile. Added Hitchcock's Shadow of a Doubt. Also, Fail-Safe. Nevil Shute's On the Beach.

I've always liked movies. Character and story. How it's all worked out at the end; for better, or worse.

Y'see, watching a movie feels like I'm just idling, only filling my head with entertaining sights and sounds. Actually, I'm taking mental notes. Protagonist. Antagonist. Begin. Mid-point crisis. Ohh'maan, however will character-A fix this and close the door on wicked, nasty, opposing B, and end this?

Yup, watchin' a movie's my kinda work.

"I'm takin' m'four-minute break...It's in m'contract"

Am taking a break on Victoria Day Monday. Reacquainting me'self with the bloggin', in this four minutes while the tea in the ol' smirkin' mug spins on the glass tray inside the microwave.

The best kind of break, this. Am home, not at work, because today's a holiday, exactly. And it's me taking a break in my own day full of some of the doings I haven't been able to get to because of that thing named Work.

It really is a four-letter word: Work. It's been using me up and keeping me from writing, from Protag, from clumsy bloggin', from my better nature and sweet dreams, from family, friends, wine, women, and song. Y'know, I might say "Thanks, I've had enough. Keep your w**k." Can't say when. Some day. I might.

Won't have to, of course, if that golden someday ever comes that w**kers of the world have long dreamed of. The Future so bright...and flying cars...there's a scary vision.

Of course, there's also the thought that connects with the scary vision. Someone's got to maintain those flying cars; or maintain the robots that'll keep them flying. So I suppose there will always be someone, some when, staring up and feeling his existence reduced to a four-letter word. Depressing.

Meanwhile, I'll just have my tea now. Return to outlining, and notes. And whatever might come. And not think about tomorrow morning.

Explorin' the Dark Side

So I've killed my first villager. Bandits earlier attacked a coach on the Rookridge road between Bowerstone and Oakfield. The villager, this sneering opportunist, was looting the dead. Drew my longsword and I whacked him dead. I let him live on my first play-through of Fable 2: I'm playing it darker, this time.

Last time, I rid Albion's adventure-filled lands of monsters and baddies, and the game world changed for the better. I shouldn't go into spoiling specifics: it's enough to say that for every moral act done there was its dark opposite I might have done instead. And the world would have turned out differently at the end.

Let's say I'm exploring the dark side. Will not be simply bad for badness' sake: where's the fun in exploring possibilities at that mindless extreme, eh? I'm striving to be ruthless, this time through. Looking out for Number One, for Me. I want gold: don't care how I get it or how the scales tip.

Looking out for Me and Dog, okay, to be more precise. And My Wife. Wives! — yes, in the plural, because that'd be being wicked, as in bad, as in good for ruthless me. And kiddies — MINE, after all. So, to be as precise as I can be this moment, I'll be looking out for me and mine. Role-playing the best I can my second play-through of Fable 2's idea of an RPG.

Only wondering how I might attain a respectable degree of despicableness without having to kill any more villagers.

Tea's Stewing

I’d like to tap here that a tea’s brewing and I’m just contentedly tapping away at story ideas, etc. Truth is: tea’s stewing in the office microwave – I’m rushing to do something for me before everyone else shows up – and knowing full well it’s now or never.
Have no idea now what to write: only that I want this exercise, and any exercise has got to result in some good. Maybe these choppy sentences will train me to get to the point, for one.

I’ve just excised the whining bit: it poured out of me – solid paragraph in minutes – done, and good it’s gone, believe me.

Can’t really look around in Protag: not from work. Too many eyes in here. Too wiped at the end of the day to write anything sensible there. Kitty’s back from America – and inspired again to work beneath Paddington Station. Elo: gotta Thank her for her opening my eyes about my sloppy writing. Stella: Vampire Heart – I’m caught up on and thoroughly enjoying.

Just remembered, good. Last night: too tired, I was sure, stared and stared, the page blank. Page stayed blank: good, now I’ve a blank page for tonight.
Last night, staring, idea came that connected with Big Project…1, let’s call it. A tone that’ll run through from start to end, with a complete twist at the end, of course. Scribbled that little nugget on the back of the shopping list in my back pocket. Maybe, some quiet moment today, I’ll play with that.

Morning Scene: Kids arriving for School

Want to jot this down before forgotten.

Private school. Orange traffic cones and sidewalk guards in orange safety vests eye-balling passing residents of the neighbourhood.
Dark blue uniforms: sweaters, girls in skirts, boys in slacks. Kids eye-balling pink-pink cherry blossom: trees heavy in rain; like pink snow in gutters.
Parents whiz through neighbourhood of apartments, along treed streets: Lexusss, Mercedes, Volvo…Ford, oohhh Expedition. Expedition to drop-off kiddies and whiz away: all pedestrians shall yield. And it’s every kid for himself: picturing elephant seal colony, belching blubbery parents, and tramplings accepted as ‘Just the way it is’.
What’s she up to? – Honda…something-van – done dropping off the kid, stops at dumpster in alley behind an apartment. Mama pops out passenger door: she dumps…looks a fried chicken bucket-load of trash. Bucket goes back inside van. She’s opening the back of the van, now: I have impression she’s not done using someone else’s garbage bin.
A truck? Cutting through here and speeding. Truck hauling trailer: AMP, that energy drink…that figures.

Just an exercise in observation writing, this. Putting a little something in my head other than the workday about to start.

Musings re Updates Available

Thanks…really, Thanks for the interruptions.
Am referring to all those ‘helpful’ little pop-ups that pop up in the middle of waking the computer at work.
I want the Saturday job done – I want to get on with the Saturday that isn’t job-related.
But first I’m supposed to dally, to hold even these briefest of conversations with these unhelpful guys…

“But you have unused icons on your desktop. Sure, you can trash-can the shortcuts yourself whenever: I’m here now, I can help. Cummon, wouldn’t you really rather wanna maintain pc desktop cleanliness? It’s not going anywhere, y’know: the mind-numbing work that’s compelled you in, on a Saturday morn, after a workweek long enough already. Cummon, let’s do it together. Desktop maintenance is fun! Here’s another reminder…in case you forgot the one three seconds ago.”

“Beg pardon, Java Update Available Pop-Up here. While you’re at it, how’s about updating Java? I realize you’re prob’ly busy, cleaning up those unused desktop icons and all, however my Java Update should only take another moment of your busy time. And if you really have not got this moment available for updating my Java, how’s about perusing my Update Later options? That’ll take hardly any more of your Saturday, really.”

“SystemAdmin here. Important Notice. Your system password will expire in thirteen days. Would you like to change your password now?”

Yeah...

Swallows Return - 1940...er, 2010

The swallows have returned! Sunshiny hazy blue sky and a loose formation of these beauties swerving about, like Battle o’ Britain spitfires. Supermarine blue wings. Flashes of orange as they roll bellies to the sun.

Ack! – Such jolly fun they must feel. Imagine the cockpit chatter, eh?...

“Happy hunting, Fellows. Tallyhooo!”

“I have my first of this grand, sunshiny, warm, sky-over-patchwork-farm…”

“Whot?”

“I have him.”

“Never!”

“Guns – Guns – Guns! A’Herrgh’A’Herrgh!”