Truth on Tuesday

When I was in high school, a popular kid (who I didn't know nor was even aware of) died in a car crash or something, and my geometry teacher, in some attempt to deal with the student body's anguish or get us all to think about how limited our experience really is in this world, played Pink Floyd's "Time" in class.

Now, I'm not a fan of Pink Floyd. I have none of their albums. I will admit that a couple of their songs are kinda cool, but I would never put them on on purpose. But for some reason, this song lingers in my brain, and I find myself singing it aloud when I'm bored quite a lot of the time, you know, when I actually am frittering and wasting the hours in an offhand way. It sort of seems like the theme song of my life sometimes, which is funny: a band I don't even paticularly like providing the soundtrack to my life.

I wonder sometimes if it's because that geometry teacher, and her belief that playing a 15 year old Pink Floyd song in class would have some sort emotional significance, somehow programmed my brain to believe exactly that, and that possbilility really irritates me. Because I don't to be the sort of guy that shuffles around singing the lyrics to Pink Floyd songs that he doesn't even really like that much.

Then again, sometimes I sing "The Night Chicago Died" to myself, which is a song that absolutely nobody in their right mind is a fan of.

But I can't really be held responsible for that one, either. It's all Jack Black's fault:

 

Really, Network Solutions?

So, I registered a domain with Network Solutions the other day, as you know, and that may have been a mistake, because they just called me this morning, not five minutes ago. "Hello, Kevin," the guy said, "I'm calling regarding your domain, hungrylikekevin.com? I noticed you didn't purchase the hosting, and I wondered why, was it a price consideration, or--"

"I have hosting somewhere else," I responded, already getting pissed that these people called me at home, which is a betrayal of the Unspoken Internet Commerce Agreement, which is that all business will be performed via the INTERNET. I unclicked the thing that said, "Please send me special offers" when I completed my order because I didn't want a ton of spam from Network Solutions. I didn't see a box that said, "Please call me at home and try to sell me extra things," because I would have unclicked that, too.

Then the guy goes, "Well, can I interest you in some other domains at all, like--"

I cut him off, said, "I have everything I need to purchase from you guys. Please don't call me at home again. Bye-bye," and I hung up on him.

WHAT THE HUH?

Let's say I had ordered a pair of shoes from Amazon, and a sales rep called me at home and said, "Hey, Kevin, I'm calling about your pair of shoes. I noticed you didn't buy socks. Is there a reason for that? And would you like 5 more pairs of shoes to go with it?" That would be ridiculous, right? This was the same thing.

I have done a ton of business with the Internet over the years, from iTunes to Amazon to the truly sleaziest porn sites you can imagine, and none of them have had the audacity to call me at home in the morning to make a clumsy sales pitch.

Outrageous.

DON'T CALL ME AT HOME, INTERNET.

Living Dead Dreams

I've been having a few dreams lately about my friend who committed suicide last year. Like, I just happen to see him walking through a store, looking kempt, happy and thin, and I walk up to him and say, "Mike? Jesus, everybody told me you were dead!" and it's a nice, happy moment.

Every once in a great while I still have dreams about dead grandparents that work the same way. My dream self is thinking, "Wow, I thought grandpa died, but guess I was wrong, because here he is walking around in his house."

These dreams are comforting but, of course, ultimately heartbreaking, because eventually I'm going to wake up and realize, "Oh, yeah...those people are dead after all."

Still, it was nice to see Mike looking happy and confident, as he was before he descended into an inescapable spiral of depression and cynicism, even if it was only in my imagination.

When I heard that he'd killed himself, I wasn't even shocked. That's a sad comment upon a life, when news of a friend's suicide doesn't even phase you because it seems like the inevitable conclusion to his misery. Suicide should never be met with sad resignation.

Anyway. It was nice seeing you, dude.

Writer's Block, Sorta

Except it's really not. I have ideas for stories all the time. What I have is some sort of enthusiasm block. I start a story, and it just never goes anywhere. I think, in some way, blogging has had a detrimental effect on my writing, because I'm trained to pound out a couple paragraphs then immediately post them for instant feedback and validation. I've gotten impatient with anything that requires more than 5 minutes worth of effort.

And that's screwed up. What do some of you writers out there do? How do you manage to have a blog and still have enthusiasm for creating things that take a few weeks? I really need help with this. I started a story this morning and I have exactly one sentence written. I'm already depressed by how many more I need to write before it's done. I don't really see the point any more. I'm afraid that I'll never write anything of merit ever again.

Help.

Blog Roll-Call

I have a few side-projects, a couple of which have started updating again after a long fallow period. Here they all are, along with the updating frequency that you can expect:

  • The Metrics -- My main alternative blog, where I post silly things such as Top Fives, lists, how-tos, flowcharts and descriptive images. Oh, also reviews. If you want the full Kevin experience, you should follow this blog as well. Updated regularly.
  • Danzkids -- A Tumblr dedicated to images of kids from 70's and 80's films overlayed with lyrics from Glenn Danzig tunes. Not as creepy as it sounds, or maybe it is. I don't know, it's just funny to me. Updated regularly.
  • Harrison Ford Points at Stuff -- A new project on Tumblr, this one collects images of Harrison Ford pointing in his movies and explains what he's pointing at. This is the dumbest Tumblr ever. Updated regularly until I run out of pictures of Ford pointing at stuff.
  • Gripping Tales of Men -- My fiction Tumblr, containing short genre fiction from me and other contributors. It may move to Posterous one day. Updates sporadically as new stuff is created/is submitted.
  • James Bond's Dog -- The Tumblr of the loneliest dog in the world. Recently posting again after a long silence. Updates sporadically.
  • The Adventures of Stakeout Detective -- The journal of a seedy private eye. Will likely never update again, but you never can tell, so you might as well follow it just in case.

Happy reading.