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No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
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2002-08-15 - 10:44 a.m.

All aboard the rant train

Jeeeeeeeeezuz, I'm a grouchy sumbitch, aint I?

Someone needs to come smack me around a bit and break me out of this funk. Cause, while I'm all about the funk, and busting a righteous groove (You can't tell I'm white, can you?) this is not the right kind of funk. I'm working on it, though. I'm gonna find my way back to good. I swear.

~*~

I'm just gonna weigh in on something I have very little knowledge about. (Opinions are like assholes, right? Everybody has one, and most people are one.) With regard to the upcoming baseball strike, I say Great! Strike away, you spoiled brats. Maybe this time the American public will forget your lame-ass sport and move on to a more exciting sport, like say, competitive paint-drying, or molasses racing.

You see, I can't stand baseball. I don't understand why anyone likes to watch it. Sure, I've gone to a couple of games, but I was *hammered*. I could have been watching team quilting and still had a good time. As for baseball on TV, I'd rather watch ... well, anything. See folks, baseball is boring. Really boring. And I for one think this country would be better off without it.

Of course I realize that some people might take this as a declaration of war, or at least be somewhat perturbed. Let me try to head off any anger at the pass. You see, I think that soccer is the greatest sport in the world, and would gladly watch feeds of leagues around the world all day long. So, I'm a crazy person, and you can hereby discount everything I say as just lunatic ravings.

~*~

Speaking of lunatic ravings, has anyone listened to ol' Dubya recently? That man is an idiot on a scale that makes me shudder. When he's got a scripted speech on his teleprompter, he comes across as just a little flaky, maybe on par with a trained mongoose. When he has to ad lib he stammers and flounders and generally shows off his amoeba-like IQ. And I tell ya, with all this "Hey, Hey, Ho, Ho, Saddam Hussein has got to go." stuff I'm feeling more and more like Dubya's trying to pick up where Daddy left off. I just wish that for once we could get someone who isn't a raving egomaniac into the Oval Office.

~*~

Wow, I'm on a rant-train today. I don't know what's up with that. I have this screenplay I've been working on (by working on I mean fortnightly guilt sessions where I read a scene, berate myself for not working on it, then go watch the Daily Show) for well over a year now. I finally brushed it off and started making serious progress on it yesterday. Part of the progress (if you can call it that) was actually deleting a bunch of stuff. I decided that the idea is not strong enough to sustain a feature-length film, so I'm cutting it down to a short film. The advantage is that I went from 30% done to 90% done by simply redefining my goals. (A handy trick for you underachievers out there.) I have about three or four more scenes to write, then a million revisions to go through. But it feels good to have real progress again.

~*~

And, scene.

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