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The Word of the Day

19 Aug

Logs, just logs.

Complexity and nuances aren’t what make great stories, that’s depth’s job. And, as I’ve mentioned previously, depth can be simple, and it can also be natural.

Let’s examine these points individually in reverse, starting with that word “natural.” What does that mean? Well, in terms of stories and their telling, I’d say it means “anything originating without being engineered or contrived.” The natural parts of a story are the parts that come about as though they were entirely consequent of earlier events. Natural events appear real to the reader, and to the reader, the person, any person, things that are real tend to have depth, whether it’s made apparent right away or not. When things are natural, they’re real, and when they’re real they have depth, which is what readers love; not merely complexity, but depth, layers, levels.

Now, we also have this fascination writers have developed lately with creating “nuances” and “uniqueness” in their stories. This is becoming the new cliché, as such forced uniqueness and nuances lead to overly complex tales that nobody can keep up with. It’s fine for things to be original, and even unique, but these things again come from depth, which comes from how real the story is, which comes from how natural the story is. It all comes back to being natural, originating without being engineered or contrived.

And now we come up to complexity, which should never, in my opinion, be the goal of the writer. Intentionally making things complicated will always lead to contrivance. All of these things are connected and they, again, go back to how natural the story is.

So yeah, just keep everything natural and you’ll be fine. Have I used that word enough times for it to sink in?

 

~D.

Hoot

12 Aug

You raise me up.

Follow me on Twitter

@Architect_9

so that you can learn more about nothing. Hah! You thought I had something to write. You thought I had some amazing story, but no, just a Twitter piece. Mph! Yeah, like it, yeah.

Okay, I’ll give you something: American Hustle looks stupid. Boy did that one come out of left field. Yeah, honestly, this thing looks like a bunch of artsy circle shots and hard cuts to sexual content, followed by every excuse to get two Oscar winning/nominated actresses naked, followed by, “How do we get ‘America’ in the title?” It feels like Cosmopolis with more stars from the looks of it. Oh, and no giant rats.

All right, I’ll tweet more often, or something.

 

~D.

Unique Characters: A Necessity?

11 Aug

Depth

I gave a fellow on Reddit some advice:

————————————————————————————————————————

Question: How unique do characters actually need to be?

Answer: There is no degree to which a character MUST be “unique.” Uniqueness isn’t necessarily the problem one faces when creating and developing a character, rather depth. See, when a character has multiple levels, it gives us, the reader, a little game to play: Dig to the Bottom of the Character (or DBC, as most people call it). We want a mystery to solve, a puzzle to reconfigure, a game to win. We want to be involved with who we’re reading about.

Now, that doesn’t mean we should make every character as confusing as possible. Levels can be SIMPLE. Luke Skywalker isn’t just the farm boy who became an intergalactic hero. He’s also a son who’s been lied to by his mentor, betrayed before birth by his father, kept in the dark about his sister, and torn between light and dark paths his whole life. Honestly, Luke has more depth than people give him credit for, but he isn’t COMPLICATED. See the difference?

Uniqueness isn’t something that can be forced. It naturally arises from a character’s depth.

————————————————————————————————————————

So yeah, try that out some time.

 

~D.

“Man of Steel” Was Terrigood

2 Aug

It sucked. It was great.

Yeah, it’s late. I didn’t time this with the release of the movie. Why? Because I’m busy, ya hear? I’m working. I talk to you when I feel like it. Some day I’ll do it more often, but for now you’ll just have to be patient. For now, you’ll have to deal with whatever crap I throw out, whenever I throw it out.

Anyway, yeah, Superman, Man of Steel, pretty good movie. It could use some work, a lot actually. But more on that in a bit. First the good stuff. And yes, this is chock full of spoilers, so for those who don’t want any, here’s my review to you: go see it, make up your own damn mind. Sound good? Great. Let’s fly on over to Krypton for the opening scene.

Russel Crowe is a good actor.

THE BEGINNING: The opening of Man of Steel is good, if a bit brief. Krypton is dying, General Zod has launched a coup against the planet’s government, and Jor-El, father of Kal-El, is making a desperate attempt to keep his naturally born son alive. What you have to understand is, on Krypton, natural births aren’t normal. Children are bred for very specific purposes, and so they do not have the mental faculty of choice. Therefore, they are wholly determined to do whatever is necessary in order to further their “programmed” purpose. Kal-El, due to the nature of his origin, can make his own choices. This is what makes him unique. He could be a hero or a villain, a savior or a conquer, a liberator or a tyrant, or a nobody who never becomes an important part of history at all. He has a choice, and, even though we know what he’ll decide to do in the end, it’s still interesting to see how he goes about making that “life choice.”

But more about the opening. Krypton is a beautiful place, and I was surprised by how much time we spent there. Even though it’s dying, it still has this life to it that comes across great visually. The creatures and weaponry, as well as the communication devices, are all really unique in terms of design, a credit to the effects team and Snyder.

As for the actors, I thought Russel Crowe and Ayelet Zurer did a great job as Jor-El and Lara. I don’t this whole thing on Crowe being “bland and monotone.” I mean, he seemed pretty natural to me the entire time. He was just being a normal guy from Krypton, getting angry and smiling when it made sense for such things to occur. I think some critics just want everyone to have too much emotion nowadays, when, in truth, some people just don’t work that way. Some people are actually, you know, normal.

As you would imagine, being a Superman reboot, Kal-El is fired away to Earth, Jor-El dies (killed by Zod here) and the coup is put down. The coup’s participants are imprisoned while the planet burns. Now, I know a lot of people think this doesn’t make sense, but honestly, I have to disagree for a number of reasons. To me, watching your entire planet swallow itself whole is a fate worse than death. To be forced to live in darkness forever while the place you were bred to protect rots away is a terrible thing. So, for me anyway, that wasn’t a problem.

Now, Earth.

The boy who lived.

THE LIFE OF CLARK KENT: Okay, so we cut right to a mature, bearded “Clark Kent,” working on a fishing boat. He sees a burning oil rig in the distance and swims there, busts in and saves a bunch of people. And here’s where my first problem comes in: they all see him doing supernatural things. The reason this is a problem for me is the fact that, later in the movie (earlier in Clark’s life), we see him hold back on using his powers because his father wanted to keep them a secret, because he thought the world wasn’t ready. He was obeying his father’s wishes, being a good son. Now, that’s all fine and dandy, but then why THE HELL is he using them RIGHT OUT IN THE OPEN to save a bunch of STRANGERS? IT MAKES NO SENSE, and it completely negates to reasoning behind his previous sacrifice. Why didn’t he just say, “Screw it,” and do the same thing for his father when he had the chance? And why is he having a debate later on in the movie about showing the world his powers? He seemed pretty okay with it not long ago!

So yeah, the rig scene kind of pisses me off. My guess is either Jon Peters stepped in and said, “We need more explosions and superpowers in the beginning,” or story writer Christopher Nolan went all Dark Knight Rises on us and forgot that doing things just because they feel “more dramatic” isn’t always the smartest thing to do. That’s one thing that concerns me about Nolan. I’ve praised him in the past, but I’m starting to get a George Lucas vibe from him, like his ego may be getting to him. We’ll look at his future films and see what happens.

Now, even though I just freaked out about how crappy this section is, the next bit is pretty good. We essentially get a back and forth between present Clark and young Clark, watching him grow older, and watching what his growth has led him to. One of my favorite scenes in the movie has got to be when Jonathan Kent (Kevin Costner) is showing his son what he really is. When he shows the boy the ship, and they have their back and forth about how big everything is and how small everything is and all that boring philosophy and whatnot, it’s really touching. And I know this line’s in the trailer, but I still love it every time I hear Kent say, “You are my son.” Chills, every time.

Next, we get a bit of a weird coincidence. The homeless hitchhiker, Clark Kent, SOMEHOW manages to get a job with the exact team that is looking for frozen Cold War subs in the exact same place the Fortress of Solitude is (I know it’s a little different in this, but I’m still calling it that), that ALSO happens to have Lois Lane working them. Okay, I’m well aware that in real life strange coincidences like this happen, but that’s a LOT of things that we’re just expected to be all like, “Eh, okay,” about. Thank God Richard Schiff is here to save the day. He’s playing a scientist because, you know, he’s fucking Richard Schiff.

Clark discovers the Fortress, and has to save Lois from some robots. He does so, and the Fortress flies away so Ghost Jor-El can get through some exposition. It’s actually pretty cool, learning Krypton’s history and all, and also learning how our villains will come into play. After that Clark basically becomes Superman. Which leads us to our next section…

KNEEEEEEEL!

METROPOLIS: So, Superman come home, and it’s all good, but then Zod’s all like, “Let me tap into every T.V. screen in the world and show you how awesome I am.” And, honestly, this scene gave me chills. The way they left this eerie static hanging for a while before the message actually began was chilling. And the way it began with that simple phrase repeated over and over, “You are not alone,” was haunting. So yeah, Zod’s entrance was pretty cool.

Now, here’s where another problem comes in. In order to gain advance about what to do here Clark decides, instead of talking to Ghost Jor-El, who knows everything about what Zod is capable of and how to beat him, he’s going to go see some random priest we neither know nor care about for advice. This leads to a gigantic battle wherein nearly all of Metropolis, the main city in the Superman series, is destroy and tens of thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of people, are killed. The entire last half of the movie could have been prevented had Clark gone to Ghost Jor-El. Instead we get more of this Jon Peters nonsense with a forced, awkward romantic scene between Lois and Superman as Zod arrives, and both of them turning themselves in.

So, Lois, through the use of this little metallic key (if you’ve seen the movie, you know what I’m talking about), talks to Ghost Jor-El. And, WOULDN’TCHA KNOW IT, he knows how to beat Zod. So, while Superman escapes (with Lois) and fights Zod, she and the military get a phantom bomb ready to lock all the bad guys away.

The action here LOOKS badass. The effects team did an excellent job making the destruction and death appear realistic on screen. However, it became too much for me after a while, and I started going, “Okay, I got it, buildings collapse when you fly through them. Can we move on?”

Anyway, Zod gets his turn Earth into Krypton machine set up and the phantom bomb is almost ready. Now, to those who think Zod’s an idiot for wanting to turn Earth into Krypton instead of trying to rule it with his newly acquired superpowers (he gets them from being on Earth), you obviously need to take a better look at Zod psychologically. Remember how everyone on Krypton was practically brainwashed into a certain behavioral pattern? Well, Zod was bred to protect and defend Krypton at all costs. After watching it burn, he failed to do so. However, in turning Earth into Krypton, he would be fulfilling that purpose, the very one which was basically drilled into his brain at birth. It’s an insane thought process to us due to our ability to choose. Zod has not choice, and that’s what makes him, to me, such a compelling character. I actually sympathized more for him than I did Superman in this movie. All he wanted to do was save his home, and he  couldn’t do ANYTHING else with his life.

So yeah, I like Zod. And I like his machine. And I like how it’s set up at opposite ends of the world, splitting our leads apart. Yeah, Lois going on the mission with them makes no sense, but that’s Jon Peters again (if not Nolan). “We need tension with Lois! GIVE HER A MILITARY UNIFORM AND LET HER RIDE THE AEROPLANE!” Superman beats the bolts out of this tentacle monster thing (weird) and destroy the first half of the doomsday device, leaving the last bit in Metropolis.

In the city, Richard Schiff saves the day with the phantom bomb and Lois is falling. Kal-El catches her and leaves her on the ground so he can have a final showdown with Zod.

I would like to interject, before I go on, that this chick

Her...

is pretty cool. Okay, moving on.

The showdown with Zod is cool, but the point where he explains his motives, to me, is unnecessary. That’s all stuff I got just from the fact that he was doing what he was doing. It damaged the subtlety of the conflict a little. What made up for it? When Superman killed him.

Yeah, he kills Zod.

I know this is a topic of hot debate, but I’m personally on the side of, “He was forced to do it, but those people could have easily gotten out of the way.” He would’ve eventually had to kill him though, because Zod wasn’t locked away in the phantom bomb’s blast. He wouldn’t have stopped. Something had to be done.

So yeah, I’m for the death of Zod. Bring on the hate mail.

Right, or easy, your choice.

OVERALL: I realize that I’ve been switching between past and present tense throughout this. It’s late. I’m tired. Forgive such minor flaws in the face of my final verdict: Man of Steal was “terrigood.” I liked it. I’d see it again with friends (not alone). There were many problems, big problems even, but that doesn’t stop me from realizing what good there is throughout the film. When that final moment comes in and Jonathan Kent sees his boy donning that red cape, I get chills. So much care was put into that little moment, that little bit. It gives me hope that the next one won’t be so bad.

It’s not perfect, but it’s art, for sure. It may not be a classic, but it’s still a Superman movie worth watching. Go see it. Make your own damn mind up.

By the way, how in the hell is Batman going to even lay a finger on this guy? What, is he going to team up with Lex Luther and use Krypto…

…no way. That’s not a bad…

Him and Him?

~D.

Gifted

19 May

The truth will makes you shit the bed.

So, I was supposed to write something yesterday, and I didn’t. What am I going to do to make up for it? Nothing. Why? I don’t owe you anything. What? You think that’s rude? Oh, come on. Would you rather I lied? Would you rather I wept at your feet begging the forgiveness of you and your divine brethren in Heaven Above? Would you rather I were obedient? Would you rather I were “timely?” A wizard is never late, nor is he early. Know it like you know your name. I ALWAYS get things done when I mean to. I never meant to write anything yesterday. That’s why I didn’t promise anything. That’s the key word: promise.

I only make promises when I mean to keep them. If I plan on breaking an agreement, I don’t make promises. Quite simple, hm? Ah, but now I AM here, so you want something. Notice I haven’t ASKED that. I know you want something, it needs no inquiry. So, what shall I give you? Ah, THAT is a question that needs answering.

Lucky.

How about I re-post that chapter again, just for good measure? No, you’ll get angry. You’re always so angry. What in Satan’s name’s the deal with you, hm? Having cramps? Swallowed a lozenge? Got cheated on? Come on, say it, what’s the deal?

Okay, you won’t talk. That’s fine. I’ll just figure out something for us to do. I KNOW! Let’s go check out Reddit. What’s on there right now? Okay, this is on the front. There, now isn’t that just perfect? It’s a marine and his bomb sweeping dog. He’s been given custody of her for a week. I think that’s awesome, don’t you? You do? Cool, we agree on something. And, even if you don’t think it’s awesome, it doesn’t matter. You can’t talk. You can’t say a word. You can’t deny it, you silent oaf. You have no defense, no retaliation  You’re a spectator. You’re a viewer. You have no say here. You can throw something in the comments box, but I’m in control there, too.

Here, I am God.

Where’s he going with this? Here, take a look at this. Now, that’s a young boy who wrote that. I’ve been sending messages to him, and him to me back. We’re in good standing with each other. However, once I’m there, that place you just were, I am no longer God. But I AM God. And see, here’s where your mind splits. I am God here, and you are not. But you ARE. Because somewhere, someplace, YOU TOO are God, just like the boy. He controls the blog, he controls THAT world, THAT universe. And somewhere else, you have your own universe that YOU forge, that YOU control. And because of this, WE ARE ALL GODS. And because of this, we are all gifted.

Networked

But none of that means anything. I lied to you. You should be upset, hurt, intolerant, angry with me. Why listen? Why believe my words? Because we trusted each other? I broke that trust. You have no reason to forgive me. You have no reason to come back to me, to love me.

But you do love me, because I’m God. And I love you, because you’re God.

“I am that I am.”

—Us

Pickles and Jam

3 May

Sometimes, we just have to sit for a bit, y'know?

Okay, guys. I know I joke around a lot on here, and I know you like that (yeah, I actually read the messages and emails and all that jazz), but I’m listening to Stairway to Heaven right now and, to be honest, it’s making me look back at everything I’ve accomplished. I’m smiling, the reason being that I’ve actually created quite the impact on a few people throughout the past few years that I’ve been doing this. It makes me proud to know I’ve helped a few people, even inspired some. You know, I might go so far as to say that you guys are—naw, I’ll save that one. That one’s important.

But, I do enjoy you all, and I know y’all enjoy me and my work and shtuff. So, the first thing I’m going to do is paste the fully edited version of the first chapter of Ledge on here for you. Now, you may think I’m being lazy, but the point isn’t the chapter, it’s the second thing I’m doing, which comes after the chapter.

So, here it goes. This is for you guys, really:

———————————————————————————————————————————–

CHAPTER ONE: CLINGING

There’s darkness, and then the curtains are drawn back. Time starts. His thumb moves. Click. That’s the sound of the gun’s hammer getting pulled back.

“Still won’t talk, Mr. Adams?”

That’s Greg. He isn’t holding the gun. Mac’s holding the gun. Mac’s seven feet tall, or something.

“Hit him again, Mac.”

Whack! That’s me getting punched in the face by a left hook. The gun’s in his right hand, not aimed at anything in particular yet.

“Come on, Adams. We don’t got all day. Just tell us where your friend is and we’ll let you go.”

My friend is Michael. I won’t tell Greg anything. I think my jaw’s broken anyway. It hurts like hell.

“Adams…”

We’re in a hotel room. It’s got a nice view overlooking Lake Oslana. That wasn’t the lake’s first name, but the owner of the hotel line decided it’d be a nice one to buy. I wonder what it was called originally.

“You know how easy this is. And it’s not like we’re gonna backstab you or anything. Just let us at him!”

I wish Greg would get it over with and have my ass capped already. My favorite suit’s already ruined, and there’s no way I’m exposing Michael—no way. I really hope he doesn’t come in and try to save me or anything.

AGH! GOOD GOD!

“That’s strike one. Next we put a bullet in your other thigh. Might be hard to walk around. Start talking.”

Jesus Christ, it hurts so much! Keep it together, Eddie! Be cool! You’ll make it out of this. Just need a plan.

Greg’s looking over at the other two men in the room, Mac not being one of them. He says something to them, but I can’t hear it very well. It HURTS!

“…and if we’re not quick enough, the Doctor might wonder what’s taking so long!”

The Doctor: a psychotic crime lord, currently working with the government (strange irony there). Whack! Another punch. The Doctor REALLY wants Michael dead, huh?

“We may have to waterboard it out of this guy,” says one of the other men. I don’t know his name, just some random goon with a gun. I hope Greg doesn’t agree.

“Get the rags,” he says. Now I’m done for. I won’t be able to hold out through that stuff. I hope Michael left the country. It’s not safe here in State 9 anymore, not with all that’s been happening lately.

A lot of time passes once the third man exits to get the rags. I give Greg an indifferent look. He shoots a glare. I give Mac the same look and he just snorts and walks off, dropping the gun on a sofa chair. He talks quietly with the last man in the room (just another goon).

“Why do you care so much?” Greg asks me. I become introspective and really analyze this before I answer, and then I shrug seeing as nothing I say will prove satisfactory. If I told him how Michael saved me, how he was different from the other you-know-whats, he wouldn’t understand. He’d just say I was a nutcase who needed his head examined.

After the course of two or three minutes (it felt like a lot more to me), the rags arrive with the third man. He tosses them to Mac, who catches them with ease.

“Did you bring the bottles too?” Greg asks.

“They’re just outside sir,” the man responds. “I’ll go get ‘em.”

The chair I’m strapped to is made of wood. It is laid across the floor, me now facing the ceiling. This is going to suck.

“You could always talk now,” Greg offers. I remain silent, like a good friend should, and the rags are placed over my face. I toss my head to the left, throwing the rags off. When a hard punch hits me in the—Lord, that hurts!—face I stopped turning. The rags go over me again. I think my nose is bleeding.

One of the water bottles is opening, I can hear it. Here it comes. Mac’s tilting it right now. Get out now, Michael. Get out before they find y—CRASH!

“What the—?!”

The sound of men being tossed about the room echoes through my ears. Bullets fly from Mac’s gun, but it explodes in his hand, causing him to shout in pain. The other two goons fire but are launched into the ceiling, their necks snapping. I can hear Greg being pinned against the wall. Mac is groaning and weeping on the floor as the rags are lifted off my face.

Michael.

“Get out of here!” I tell him. He unties the ropes that bind me and helps me into a sofa chair. There’s Greg, being held against the wall by Michael’s power.

“I couldn’t just leave you,” he tells me, before looking to Greg with an expressionless face. One of the guns of the dead goons soars toward his hand. He aims it at the leader of the group, now begging for mercy.

“To harm an ally of mine is to hang oneself,” the angel says. Then a red mark appears between the eyes of Greg and blood trickles down from it until it reaches his lips. The body falls to the floor, lifeless. Michael looks back at me.

“Are you all right, Edward?”

“Yeah,” I lie, “I’m dandy. You showed up just in time. Although I still think you need to get the hell out of Dodge.”

He puts his hand on my shoulder and says, “We are getting out, not I.”

“I have to see Sally first.”

Sally’s my girlfriend. She’s—she’s beautiful. It’s a long story. I haven’t quite decided whether I’ll marry her yet. We’ve been with each other quite a while now.

“No time,” Michael tells me, causing me further worry. “Those were easy hunters. If they send Lucifer—.”

“I can’t just leave her. They’ll kill her!”

I’m standing now, but my leg hurts too much. I’m trembling as I fall back into the chair. Michael holds a hand to where the bullet is and slowly—YAGH—levitates it out of me. I’m not bleeding too badly. Okay, maybe I AM bleeding too badly. But he’s already ripping a bed sheet apart and wrapping a piece of it around the wound.

“That should stop the bleeding. Raphael will be able to heal you later.”

“Michael, I can’t leave her.”

His face, though without expression, holds weight behind it like you couldn’t imagine. His eyes waver and glow. And then, he understands.

“I will get you to safety first. The others are downstairs with a car. I’ll let them get you out of here, then I’ll get the girl.”

I’m thinking of disagreeing, thinking of telling him I have to be there when it happens. But that’d be foolish right now. I need healing, and Raphael’s always been the quickest at that.

“All right, fine. Let’s go.”

He nods. We depart. Mac looked dead last I checked.

This world has changed since the war. I can only hope that doing what I’m doing will help save it from its own self-destruction. Although, to be honest, when I look outside at the covert dystopia that has come, I can’t help but lose hope entirely.

We’re hanging on a ledge right now. I really hope Man’s fingers don’t get any more tired than they already are.

———————————————————————————————————————————–

Before I go, I want to tell you a true story about the power of art. There was once this girl sitting in a car on a city bridge. It was night, and not very many cars were passing by at the time. She was crying, weeping actually, because right then, right there, in that moment, she intended, completely and utterly, to drive over the edge of the bridge into the water below. Sweat trickled down her neck and shivers traveled up her spine. Now, this sort of thing happens all the time, and so, naturally, she could’ve just pressed down on the gas and gotten it over with. In most cases, this would’ve been so.

So then there was this nightclub. A DJ (I won’t say who, but suffice to say he’s a pretty big deal in the clubbing world—and a family friend) was playing some killer tracks, and everyone was going wild. The room was electric, truly. You could feel the life pulsating through it, like a heartbeat. Then, after the DJ’s work was done and he was turning in for the night, someone tried to reach him backstage. At first, security tried to shove the person away, but the DJ approved their passage, for they did not seem to be some crazy, drunk fan out seeking autographs or something “intimate.” His guess was right, for it was then that the person told him of the miracle that had been bestowed upon them.

They had just recently gone through some of the toughest trials life had ever thrown their way. In fact, these trials were so punishing and cruel, that the person had been driven to the point where death seemed like the only option. And then, literally seconds before the gas pedal was pressed down and a body was made soulless, a song came on the radio, a song called It’s Gonna Be Okay. It was one of the DJ’s best songs.

Art saved her life that night.

To all my fans who are artists: any time you think maybe your life would be more useful somewhere else, doing what society has told you is “productive,” remember that you’re doing something that actually saves lives. If that ain’t productive—ah, screw that, it’s productive, know it like you know your name. We need more of you out there, because even if you’re never thanked for it, know that you’re doing something badass just by being an artist.

So yeah, that’s why I put random pictures at the top of all my articles. Now, finish the night with this video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nwAYpLVyeFU

Love,

D.

Laugh.

You Never Know How A Post Is Gonna Venereal Diseases

29 Apr

The elves know Madison.

To any of my readers who have venereal diseases: too soon?

The last fictional piece I wrote for the blog that actually had a point and a purpose was rather anti-climactic. So, until I finish a few more shorts, and until I actually finish them, I’ll just be struggling to find something appealing for you guys. How’s about I give you a peak into what’s coming in the future:

STAR WARS: I’ve gotten a ton of requests to do another Star Wars piece. I’ve decided that this blog is just as much yours as it is mine and so I’ll figure something out about writing a “Top 5” or something.

SHORTS: As mentioned previously, I’m working on some short stories. I’ll be able to post them regularly on here soon. They’ll be a lot darker and moodier than my usual material, which is good because, you know, there isn’t enough dark and moody material on the market.

BASKETBALL: I just felt like writing the word; nothing here.

REVIEWS: I’ll be doing movie reviews again! Expect one for Star Trek: Into Darkness. I’m super stoked for that one, you have no idea.

SPOTLIGHTING: I’ll spotlight cool internet related things I find. It’ll give me more to do on here, more to talk with you about other than, you know, me.

I think that’s everything. All right, I’ll be seeing you guys! I’m off to not play TF2 some more (a few of you got that). BYE!

 

~D.