I'll be honest. For a long time I've been pretty much comfortably numb on political issues. Its not that I was completely apathetic, its just that I was burnt out because everything seemed so futile. Maybe it still is, but that's not the point. Our nation, our species, and our world are in the garbage masher at the moment, and no matter how much that steel beam is bending we still need to try and brace it or else we all get squashed (Star Wars reference in case you were scratching your head).

And this is beyond Democrats and Republicans. Beyond liberals and conservatives. I've made my leanings quite clear, but there is enough blame to go around, so there's no sense in pointing fingers.

Why do I feel the need to be writing this now? There are two people responsible. The Cranky Liberal, for writing this article about the complete and utter defenestration of truth, and Alice, for pointing me in his direction.

Ok, so I guess there's a little fingerpointing there, but I blame everyone who isn't calling bullshit at every turn just as much as the bullshitters themselves. That includes me.

And really, you don't even have to agree with what this guy is saying, or indeed much of what I am saying to see the big problem. In political discourse, the truth is compromised. And that is a crime against our nation.

Ironically, the words that define the need for change came from the mouth of Ronald Regan, whose banner our current Chief Executive flies as he charges forth on his crusade against science and fact, and whose refusal to speak to homosexuals or about AIDS has set us back years.

Truth exists and can be spoken proudly.

I feel like shouting those words through a megaphone from a soapbox.

I could care less your stance politically. Speak your views; they are your contribution to democracy. But do so truthfully. And don't think that because you support a candidate or party you need to defend them about everything. Its intellectual suicide, and I've got a hotline open to help you cope if you're contemplating. Well, an AIM screen name. And I guess I'm not on 24/7... so you kinda gotta catch me at the right time, but you know...

Also, after hundreds upon hundreds of our soldiers have died fighting in Iraq, they may end up with a theocratic government only tangentially similar to a democracy. Hire and service for our real opponents in this war on terror if you ask me.

So I wake up today, not really expecting anything shitty to come of it, and all of a sudden my wisdom teeth are fucking with me.

That's just great.

Then again, I suppose I should have seen this coming. Those things are just like ticking time bombs that we all carry around with us in our mouths.

They are also absolute proof that "Intelligent Design" is bullshit.

What intelligent being would put those there except as a practical joke?

Sorry God, fuck you.

While the laws of most states and municipalities dictate that a pedestrian has the right of way whilst within two painted white lines, the physical laws of the universe dictate that the multiple-thousand pound hunk of metal going over forty miles per hour does.

That is all.

So I found a ball of rubber bands lying around. My father made it; Its likely nearly as old as I am. I noticed some frayed pieces sticking out, and I was bored, so I started removing layers of rubber bands so that the broken ones would fall out; something I'd been thinking of doing for a while. Just about every band I removed caused some broken rubber to fall to the floor. Time after time it would seem like I'd reached the end of the broken elastics and it would so happen that one of the removed bands let another broken one into view.

At some point I decided that I couldn't possibly remove all of the broken bands without completely deconstructing the ball. So I got it down to the point where the frayed bits were barely noticable and would be rendered invisible when I put the intact rubber bands back on. I looked at the two piles of rubber bands; one broken, one intact. They were about the same size. I discarded the broken ones, and proceeded to wrap the intact bands back around the ball. When I was done I was looking at a ball that looked clean and neat and completely undamaged, but still showed its age, as was natural seeing as it was still made of the same material.

I looked at it, and I thought of myself. Over ninteen years I've developed as a human being, there are certainly some weak strands. And they could, in theory, be remedied. But at what expense of time? And how many layers before I've been completely deconstructed?

Just one of those things you contemplate when you're bored and alone.

Anyways

I saw the Forty Year Old Virgin today with some high school friends. It marks the second movie that I thought I'd dislike that I went to with them just for the hell of it and enjoyed, the first of which was Anchorman. The fact that both involved Steve Carell can hardly be seen as a coincidence.

Well, I thought I'd have finished the stuff I said I would by now, but it turns out that production week for Fourth Wall took more out of me than I had expected. Not a surprise. If at any point last week you felt a tremor in the Force, there are decent odds that a Fourth Wall cast party caused it. There were some people at one of them saying that I look like Andrew W K. Then they got drunk, and shouted "Andrew W K!" every time they saw me. So I saw to it that they didn't see me, because they were annoying as all hell. Also a guy fell down some stairs and it sounded like he took a bookcase with him.

As for the performance itself, I think that it may have been my best ever. It was the largest role I've had that my high school mentor recieved so favorably. He said it was "Excellent," with no words further on the matter, and he never humors me and tells me lies.

Then there was another party. I don't have all the details for that one, not due to overindulgence but due to the fact that I split off early with a few people to go swimmng.

So yeah. a good week all in all.

On to other matters. I read Dylann's post about Avenue Q moving to Vegas permanently, saw that she wasn't opening it up for comment, and fell silent on the matter for a bit. I don't mean to offend, Dyl, but I need to say something here.

I am not going to fault Steve Wynn for wanting to bring new entertainment to Vegas.

I'm not saying that it isn't a sound business deal.

I'm just saying that its a really fucking shitty precedent to set on the part of the producers of Avenue Q, who should, if they are in this business, have some love for theater, and some understanding of what it means to deny theatergoers across the country access to an award winning play just to line their pockets. Its expensive as hell to see a Broadway show as it is. Add to that a Vegas trip and its just not feasible for your average theater buff. Or for that matter, one of lesser means than your average theater buff.

You want to play Vegas? Good for you. Make it a stop on that national tour that you promised would happen; that is expected of you. Or hell, set up shop thereif you must, but make the tour first, like Spamalot is doing. To do otherwise is ingracious. Don't turn the Tony Awards into a stepladder up to the auctioning block. The arts have been ruined enough by money as it is. It would be intolerable to see it progress to the point that every Tony winner got shut off from the rest of the country due to the whim of some guy with money. And that is the danger that is being faced here. As an actor that terrifies me.

Ok, rant done with. I'ma go outside or something.

Ok, so I got back from my last performance, and I am hella tired, so here's what's going to happen. I'm going to crash for now, and give a blow-by blow of exactly what happened over the past week later in addition to a more thorough reading and commenting on all of your blogs as there is little that I'll need to do tommorrow... as far as I can tell. Then, I'll finally finish the partially completed piece that I've been sitting on, type it up, and post it. Deal? Sweet. I'm going to leave you with some Cake lyrics.

I don't want to wonder
If this is a blunder
I don't want to worry whether
We're gonna stay together
'Till we die

I don't want to jump in
Unless this music's thumping
All the dishes rattle in the cupboards
When the elephants arrive

I want to love you madly
I want to love you now
I want to love you madly, way
I want to love you, love you
Love you madly

I don't want to fake it
I just want to make it
The ornaments look pretty
But they're pulling down the branches
Of the Tree

I don't want to think about it
I don't want to talk about it
When I kiss your lips
I want to sink down to the bottom
Of the sea

I want to love you madly
I want to love you now, yeah
I want to love you madly, way
I want to love you, love you
Love you madly

I don't want to hold back
I don't want to slip down
I don't want to think back to the one thing that I know I
Should have done

I don't want to doubt you
Know everything about you
I don't want to sit across the table from you
Wishing I could run

I want to love you madly
I want to love you now
I want to love you madly, way
I want to love you, love you
Love you madly

So, for the fifth consecutive day, I had shit to do last night. My apologies to anyone who tried to contact me last night but got my idle message. Someone else must have been using my computer, and AIM starts up automatically.

Anywho.

I was out until about 12:30 rehearsing and watching others rehearse for the Fourth Wall Theater. I also filled in for a dude who missed his rehearsal and the director said I did a better job than him, and now I've been designated as his personal "asshole coach." This, along with being hailed as portraying the "ultimate pretentious fuckwad" onstage makes me wonder if its entirely a complement that people are telling me that they're glad I joined. Whatever. Why did rehearsal last until past midnight? because there is no organization in Fourth Wall. None. To be honest, that doesn't really bother me all that much as I am, once again, no person to throw stones. Also, I am as you all know a creature of the night. I'm somewhat surprised at myself that I'm typing this this early, but I guess I just love you all that much.

Moving on.

This is where take a look back. Specifically, back over the past few months. For a while it was just me shouting shit into a vacuum, and then Saije got me rolling with a single comment. As I've said before, I started blogging as an outlet for writing, and while I was using it as such before that, I would have never written nearly this much if I didn't have an audience. I want to thank you all for stopping by in the first place, and coming back after you saw what was here. You've each in a very real way helped me progress as a writer and I am grateful. Why am I saying this now? this so happens to be my 100th blogpost. Should it have come sooner? Hells yes., but I hope I can be forgiven.

So there are more questions that have been asked of me. Here goes.

Crys: If I ever do become famous, I'll do my best to make sure I keep in touch with everyone, and of course give credit where credit is due, and use my clout to help my friends as much as I can. That having been said, such promises are easy to make when you're where I am and I can only hope that if I do become famous it won't change me, or at the very least won't change me enough to make the mistake of forgetting where I came from. As for whether I want to be famous, thats an interesting question. For one, there's the job security that comes with name recognition, but getting roles just because of that aspect could potentially make one erode as an actor. It's my contention that that's what happened to Ben Affleck, but few people are agreeing with me. Whatever, dude was the bomb in Phantoms. Also, having clout means that the shit that you want to make has a better chance of getting made. For instance, if Robert Rodriguez hadn't been able to pull strings so that he could convince Frank Miller to make Sin City with him, one of the finer cinematic experiences in history would never have happened. Still though, those are both about fringe benefeits of fame, not fame itself.

If you're an artist, chances are you want people to see and appreciate your work. The distinction is on what level. Some would like to be able to put out work and have people read it and then not be bothered at all, like JD Sallinger. But anyone who read Catcher in the Rye knows that he's a pretty fucked up dude and I doubt anyone was surprised when he moved to Vermont and became a shut-in. As for me, I'm not sure. Part of me would prefer it to have a following equivalent to a prominent webcomic artist. They can go outside without getting noticed, and yet when they make official public appearences they're swarmed with crowds of loyal fans. Then again, It would be pretty cool to have a level of name recognition between say, Mitch Hedburg and Christopher Walken. Not super-stardom, but the right sort of people tend to recognize their stuff. Also, I want to do the commentary track for a dvd some day and you kinda have to be well known to do that... so yeah.

Saije: The words "Great Amercain Playwright" pretty much refer to Arthur Miller, but I have to say that I'm not nearly as impressed with his work as others are. Personally I prefer Mammet's quirky, cadanced dialogue and his dark humor that compliments it oh so well.

It's kinda hard for me to come up with just one actor and one actress. I mean, Johnny Depp and Cate Blanchett spring immedeately to my mind, but there are really more that I admire on a similar level than I can list at the moment.

As for Emerson, it is sort of out of my price range. I've contemplated transferring, but for now I'm sticking with Columbia College.

Also, Crys in an IM conversation asked me to define superficiality. Here goes.

There's this guy I know who's a sort of a faux-hipster. He dresses all inde-rock and listens to some of the music, but really he's all about the scene. Anyways, we were going to hang out at this place (of which I constantly make mention) called Gourmands. Best coffee in Chicago, great aptmosphere, great people. He gets in there, and despite my promises of good coffee, despite everything, he ducked out as soon as he could make an excuse. Not that he was busy... I guess that the paint didn't go with his shirt or something. In any case, as I left I saw him leaving a Starbucks. That is superficiality. To screw yourself out of good times because you think its below you.

And that does it for now. I've actually started writing the piece that Alice suggested to me, but I'm not done yet. Also, I'll probably post it in Writings of the Wombat.

Peace for now.

I'm so horny
That's okay, my will is good

Update: I've been actually busy lately... go figure. I try to get writing every day and all of a sudden there are friends I need to see, and I actually start getting decent hours at work. I've got a little something kicking around in my mind for my next post, so I'll probably put it up sometime after work tonight (maybe around 1... I can't promise anything though.) It's pouring out now and that will either mean a busy day as everyone comes to rent videos and beat the rain, or a slow one because nobody wants to leave to go to the store. Usually most everyone has the same take on it for some reason..

In any case, I hope the rain doesn't last too long as there's an outside chance that I might have to walk home tonight... from Mass Ave Boston to the suburban wasteland to the north. Stupid MBTA.

So I'll probably have something for all of you later. As for why I didn't make this a seperate post, you'll know the next time I do a full one.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Well, this is sort of a response to Alice's WRBR thingus (see below). I'm not doing the cartoon one just yet because I'm (a) not sure who it'd be and (b) I want to do something thematic about it but not quite sure what exactly. However, I will share with all of you one of my tricks in the trade when it comes to grilling, which is a skill I pride myself in.

See, I come from a rather large extended family- over 40 cousins on one side. Thus, I sometimes find myself working the grill for a rather large crowd, many of whom are kids. Some would dispair at this, but alas, I lick my lips at the process, because of this trick I invented.

I do it like this. Fire up the grill and put the hamburgers and hot dogs on. The key to this -and I really do not know how to instruct anyone specifically on this one- is to be able to cook a damned fine hamburger. Cook the first grillfull on slow... make 'em wait for it. By the time the burgers are done, the younglings are at the point where they simply must have their fix. But they know that my product is good. They devour it as soon as it leaves the fire. By then the grill is good and hot, and I up the heat and cook another batch at a faster pace. repeat untill all of the burgers, hotdogs, and similar class B grill fodder are expended and the masses are expended and the masses (those who are impatient or who lack the stomach capacity to continue) are quelled. then reach into the cooler for the mainstage meat. On comes the steak, the marinated chicken, the pork chops (I'll at a later date reveal how to make pork chops even more delicious) , the good Italian sausage, etc, etc, and a feast of the knowing occurs.

the mantra is, "he who eats last, eats best."

Also, while I thought I answered the other questions earlier but apparently didn't submit, here goes.

Mickerdoo: Marge Simpson, Peg Bundy, and Clair Huxtable, in that order.

Saije:

1. Chicago has some chill locales and some nice sights, but Boston is my home. I've yet to find any place that compares to Newbury Street or Harvard Square, or even Davis Square, in Chicago (sure neither of those are in Boston proper but what the hell)

2. Ted Williams. Williams is, to repeat everyone who matters, the greatest hitter who ever lived, as well as a great man and a patriot. He may never have brought a championship to Boston, and in fact there are some who would give him goat horns for his Series batting average, but that is beside the point. In terms of technical mastery of his craft, there is no man his equal. Had he not spent five years of his prime in a fighter jet (and he was a damned good fighter pilot, too), there is no telling what sort of numbers he may have put up. His book, The Science of Hitting, is easily the definitive work on the subject. Easily the most deserving of all Red Sox who got their numbers retired

3. Actually, it just so happens that there's more work for actors in Chicago than anywhere else. Also, there's more work availible that doesn't require one to be an Equity (the stage actor's union) member. Furthermore, as I'm being taught entirely by people who are currently getting work in Chicago theatre, I'll have a lot of Chicago-based theater contacts, so that also would bid me stay there a while. That being said, to make the serious money you need to go to one of those cities (for the most part). So I don't know when I'd be moving on, but still I'll try and answer that question. My height seriously limits what I can do on stage, but a film director would be far more likely to cast someone who's 6'6" than a stage director, because if you play with angles it can work better. Then of course there's tv, which really doesn't have a particular hold on either city, but if I carry on with my writing, and if I study at Second City as I plan to, may also be a possibility. In short, I can't tell one way or the other, but if I did make the move for some reason soon after graduation, then maybe LA would be more likely

Ok, so that about does it for now... Alice, I will at some later date (perhaps tomorrow if nothing is forthcoming) addresss your other requests. As for the rest of you, don't hesitate, even if its about something that you don't think I'd know about. Not that I probably do know, but its always fun to answer a question when you don't really know the answer.

Well, its been four days since my last post, and that one was a bit of a cop-out, really. I mean I had already written it. (well, my bits at least) Incidentally, however, the fine print in the AIM EULA dictates that AOL owns the copyright to all conversations and indeed everything transmitted via their service, so assuming for arguement's sake that this is in any way legally defensible (which it isn't, not by a long shot), AOL is now in the dubious position of owning the copyright to a world domination scheme. Anyways, to the subject of my delinquency.

The question one might ask in view of such blogging inactivity, is "what has he been doing for the past month?" a question with two readily availible answers. "Everything," and "Nothing." "Everything," would imply that I am far too busy to be arranging, or attempting to arrange, "1000 words in cunning order," on any regular basis. This is patently false as anyone who has IMed with me or indeed paid any kind of attention to my posts of late. "Nothing," on the other hand, would imply that there is nothing of note happening in my life and that I'm incapable of finding anything to write about. This is a bit closer to the mark, but still not quite true, as there have been things happening and things I've done that were indeed possible to relate humorously or interestingly with written word. The fact of the matter is, I'm just not, for lack of a better phrase, feeling it. I guess I've just been out of it lately, not due to any ailment or anything but a general malaise. This is a problem as while I will not pretend that the world will stop turning at the cessation of my blogging, much less an inconsistancy thereof.

The problem is that as a writer I need to be in the habit of writing every day, and in fact this blog was an attempt to get myself in the habit, and as you can see it has not succeded there.

So, I am going to borrow an idea from the wonderful, whimsical Pansi (who I should have linked by now because I rather enjoy her blog yet have fallen behind in reading it because I use the links on this blog for my trawling), and open up a segment, as it were, which I shall call, Wombat's Rambling by Request. Here's how it works. If there's anything at all you would like to see here, a question answered, a topic in need of my particular brand of pointification, a matter to be explained, or any form of writing prompt, just drop it in the comments for my most recent blog entry with a prefix to the effect that its being submitted for WRR(WRBR?). I'll take the ones I like and copy them to a list on my computer. Then, the next time I'm bloging and can't think of anything to write, I'll pop open the list and break one out. Hopefully, with this I'll be able to post something once a day.

It should be noted that the answers to my questions, my explainations, my advice, and my pointifications may at some times drift away from that which you may find to be true in your travels in actual reality. It is thus that I must give this disclaimer, in the tradition of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: This blog is definitive. Reality is a frequent innacurate.

All that having been said, is there anything you want to know or hear?

A conversation I had with Alice, who I hope is cool with this being posted here. I don't think she revealed anything incriminating or objectionable about hersef other than that she actually listened to this without sending the white vans out for me. Anyways, as I was typing my part in this conversation (and now, in fact), I was (and indeed am) under the influence of about a liter of very strong iced coffee. I was not aware of its strength at the time because someone else made it and had balanced it out with a considerable amount of sugar, methinks. Anyways, I am totally tweaking, and I am at this moment typing about as fast as I've ever typed. If I don't post for a while, it is probably because my head exploded. anyways, enjoy this caffiene-induced conversation.


EsotericWombat:I suddenly feel like taking out 200 annonymous guards with my bare hands on the way down a 5-level subterranean lair to thwart an attempt at world domination
cranberijello: uh oh
cranberijello: calmdown
EsotericWombat: join me!
cranberijello: i imagine as tall as you are that could be scary
EsotericWombat: which part?
cranberijello: the whole rage thing you got going on
EsotericWombat: not so much rage as pure energy coursing through my veins
cranberijello: lol
EsotericWombat: Join me, and together we'll rule the galaxy as.... well.... I'll think of something to call us when we're ruling the galaxy and we'll rule it as that
EsotericWombat: you can do that when you
EsotericWombat: have conquered the galaxy
EsotericWombat: make up a word and have it mean whatever the fuck you want it to
EsotericWombat: and everyone recognizes it as such
cranberijello: lol, i do that anyway so yea
cranberijello: i'll join ya
EsotericWombat: because what the fuck are they going to say?
EsotericWombat: no, I'm not going to use your word, oh wise ruler who could lift a finger and have a thousand hired bullets pierce my skull?"
EsotericWombat: excellent. First order of business. Swap Tom Cruise's brain with George W.'s
cranberijello: lol
cranberijello: i think they are both slightly damaged
EsotericWombat: then everyone will recognize Cruise as a horrendous actor
EsotericWombat: and Bush as a religious nutjob
EsotericWombat: it's bulletproof!
cranberijello: lol
EsotericWombat: then, we pit Ann Coulter, Bill O' Rielly, Rush Limbaugh, and Sean Hannity against each other in a free-for-all fight to the death
EsotericWombat: and release bears into the stadium midway through the fight
cranberijello: yes, they can claw each others eyes out
EsotericWombat: one of whom has Paris Hilton riding on it
EsotericWombat: which is to say
EsotericWombat: she is nailed to it
EsotericWombat: with rusty nails
cranberijello: indeed
EsotericWombat: Spikes in fact, one pinning each breast to bear-flesh and likewise with her thighs
cranberijello: now you're getting carried away
cranberijello: lol
cranberijello: she says as she pretends to be horrified at the thought
EsotericWombat: and we have Carson Daly as one of those on-the-spot reporters that inevitably get hurt horrendously by the extreme situations they are sent to report on
cranberijello: lol
cranberijello: i hope so i think he is an ass though
EsotericWombat: the entire thing is televised as the entire world watches
EsotericWombat: which serves as the perfect distraction for phase 2
cranberijello: which is?
EsotericWombat: I'm working on it
EsotericWombat: if you have any ideas, critiques, pleas for me to cease my ramblings, now would be the time to share them
cranberijello: i am in a listening mode
EsotericWombat: ok
cranberijello: you are entertaining me
EsotericWombat: while the entire world stands in awe... we take the central hub of the internet by force
cranberijello: where is the central hub?
cranberijello: just out of curiousity
cranberijello: :-D
EsotericWombat: there will be time
EsotericWombat: to figure that part out
EsotericWombat: at the moment I forget the IP address
cranberijello: it probably vaires anyway
cranberijello: lol
EsotericWombat: I am drawing a blank
cranberijello: that's alright it's late
EsotericWombat: in any case. I know a few programmers who would take on the task of molding the internet to our whim based on the knowledge that they'd be winning the favor of one of your keen intellect and beauty
EsotericWombat: Nerds are easily manipulated once you understand the mindset
EsotericWombat: and detatch yourself from it however briefly
cranberijello: good to know
cranberijello: i must know a different kind of nerd
EsotericWombat: well, I'm talking about on a large scale
cranberijello: oh
cranberijello: a large scale nerd
cranberijello: i see
EsotericWombat: no, no, no
EsotericWombat: I mean
EsotericWombat: smart masses
cranberijello: i got ya
EsotericWombat: the sort of force it would take to overtake the internet
EsotericWombat: but of course, to get them to the consoles I'd have to take out several guards, though I suppose I know some people who could help
EsotericWombat: one has the last name Samson, so he's automatically a badass
cranberijello: I might be able to come up with one or two people for that
EsotericWombat: and another is several kinds of black belt
EsotericWombat: once the internet is taken, all that would remain would be a "take back the nation" campaign run over the net, and fueled by the gross political upheaval
EsotericWombat: so that gives us the US, and probably Canada, Japan, and England
EsotericWombat: then comes the difficult task of invading Russia
EsotericWombat: whether covertly or overtly
cranberijello: overtly
EsotericWombat: in which case
cranberijello: better to be up front they have guards everywhere and we will surely be caught and forced to drink " the vodka"
EsotericWombat: the sheer capacity of the American military-industrial complex combined with the brilliance of Japanese tech engineers would foster the development of some sort of new-age seige weaponry
EsotericWombat: while the entire force of russia is keeping us out, we kill all of the government officials
EsotericWombat: using NINJAS!
cranberijello: ah yes ninjas
EsotericWombat: from that position China is easily taken
EsotericWombat: and with that we would have the resources and manpower to take the rest of the world
cranberijello: indeed
cranberijello: even Korea you think
EsotericWombat: alligning all power of industry to the pursuit of more advanced space flight
cranberijello: just want to cover all the bases
EsotericWombat: NINJAS!
cranberijello: lol
EsotericWombat: and also resources would be alloted to create weapons worthy of these new starships
EsotericWombat: and we send all of the paranormal science guys to pursue the validity of any of those theories linking Egypt to Mars
EsotericWombat: (get them out of the way at the very least)
EsotericWombat: and if anything legit can be found it would be clutch
EsotericWombat: and from there an assault on the rest of the galaxy is launched. I can't really plan the rest of it out seeing as I don't know what we'd be up against