Smoke & Hips


The mood was devilishly sour, which matched my Whiskey Sour in a Reeves’ ‘most-excellent’ manner.  I’m prone to alcoholism, but I forget often.  Something with how the world hazes over when you’re properly inebriated…it makes life seem more real.  A moment of clarity in a world that is bent on capitalizing on broken, lovestruck people like myself.  I arched my back to desperately try and pop the ache, but like most things of late…I failed miserably.  I finished off the whiskey, ordered a shot of ironic Skyy, drank that, and ordered a Sex on the Beach.  It was a bit out of character, but (hey) you only live a blurry once.  Someone brushes my shoulder and taps it twice in quick secession—   Quick, but light.  I turned.  Amidst the cliché club lights and the deep boom of the bass I saw a beautiful brunette with long curly locks staring back into my grey eyes.  We embraced—our lips touching gently (at first) and then exploded into something more…  Suddenly the Skyy seemed not so ironic, nor the Sex on the Beach.  We parted, she tipsied, and I caught her by the small of her back.  We leaned in close—  One of the beauties of cliché nightclubs.

“Where are John and Greg?”

“Who?”

“Who?” I owled.

She firmly grasped my hand and led us through a haze of smoke and hips.  Dreams, wet and dry alike, were being forged between all of the lonesome souls that we cascaded through—  Emotions compounding upon emotions, ad infinitum.  We weaved and parried between those looking for love in all the wrong places, or those looking to forget all together.  Eventually, we arrived back at our nice nook nestled within the cranny of sin. We slumped together in loud whispers.  Chiding each other for not being close enough—  Asking superficial questions just to pass the time between stolen kisses.  As my hands inched closer and closer to the prize…my thoughts…my drunken thoughts…wafted to yet another brunette.  This one was tearing off her ring in muted frustration and driving…driving away.  The music suddenly shifted, and those that were dancing scuttled as those that weren’t filled the newly created void like flotsam washing upon the dance floor.  A quick peck snapped me back to the moment…and to Diana.

“Do you want another drink?”

“Is that rhetorical?”

“Is that?” she smirked.

I watched her as she walked and weaved back into the sea of people.  My best friend John—and Diana’s friend Greg—slid into the booth beside me.  Greg seemed to be an introspective, giant of a man who had never gained the courage to tell Diana his true feelings.  John and I had only met him tonight, but even with just a few brief comments we both saw how Greg felt.  Diana was either clueless or never had the heart to let him down properly.

I heavily bet on the latter, while John the former.

John was a different beast all together.  John is a stocky Irishman who pounded drinks to drown his own recent and equitable sorrow.  Who knew that fucking a married woman, who was engaged to yet another man, would end so badly?  Clambering out of low-hung windows in the dead of night and sprinting across Cheney farm fields was never what our old Track & Field coach had in mind, but John used what he was taught and he did it well.

I swear when John chased the worm the worm ran.

For whatever reason, there was an electricity that clung in the air about us that evening.  It hovered and crackled with intensity.  John and Greg lamented, while my sorrow extended elsewhere.  Whether it be sex, sorrow, or sex to mask sorrow we all found our reprieve that night.

“Where’d you guys head off to?” I shouted above the music.

“Outside.  We both needed some air.”

“You okay to drive?”

“No, not yet— man.  I need to sober up a bit.”

“No worries.  I’m in no hurry.”

Diana slid in close next me.  She sipped both drinks before passing me one.

“What is it?”

“Just drink it,” she smiled.

I took a large swig, which finished half the cup, “It’s got bite.”

“That’s because it’s 151 and Coke.”

“Nice!  If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to get me drunk?”

“Nah, just loose.”

“I’m already loose.”

“Cool, your jets turbo.”

I grinned, “You started it.”

She returned my grin, and kissed me yet again.  By this time Greg and John and begun instinctively conversing to avoid the awkwardness that would have come at a table filled with more-sober company.  However, no one noticed the intimacy building between Diana and I…save for perhaps Greg, but even he was distracted with light-hearted conversation.

John leaned over to me and shouted once more, “I think we’re going to go outside, again.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I just don’t feel so hot.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I just need a couple of minutes.”

“Ok…we’ll be out in a bit.”

Again, the two stumbled off to get some air, and I stayed to get selfishly closer to Diana.  She wasn’t the one, but she was for this evening.  We talked and drank for a while more, and eventually we followed in the footsteps of John and Greg, and headed for the exit.   The cold November air stung like a hard dose of reality.  Diana and I were both drunk enough to be able to ignore it, but John and Greg sat side-by-side along the curb entrenched within the harshness of it.  Together they had cried and swapped stories.

Diana and I gave them their privacy and sauntered off towards our own sort of recovery, but I’ll never forget the tearstained cheeks of Greg…nor my best friend, John’s.

That was a lie.  It was in the moment that a looked back into Diana’s eyes.  My sadness ebbed and my drunken heart punched out, whether Greg was there or not.

Tonight was a night of nights.

Salt Lake City Comicon 2014: The World Premiere of SyFy’s “Z Nation”


Z Nation LogoLast week, during Salt Lake City’s 2nd annual comicon, one of the last panels of the show premiered SyFy’s newest television show, “Z Nation.”  One of the presenter’s had been featured in numerous SyFy feature length films and as she put it, “I’ve been killed, and often.”  The second presenter, Michael Welch, is actually apart of the ensemble cast and hosted the ‘Q&A’ format after the credits had rolled on the pilot episode of “Z Nation.”

For those of you that don’t know “Z Nation” is set in upstate New York (at least on the onset of the pilot), but was primarily shot right here in good ol’ Spokane, WA.  Even though, they never call attention to the fact that it isn’t Spokane, native Spokanites can spot the thicket of pines, sleepy city locales, and myriad of lakes that make this region famous and unique to the rest of the country.

“Z Nation” is an interesting beast though.  It harkens back to old school zombies flicks like any of Romera’s cannon and it does so with gusto.  It doesn’t pull the punches in that quirky, dark sense of humor kind of a way.  It shouts “campy” at you, but for an old school zombie lover like myself…I loved it.  It was catchy and effectively paid homage to the genre.  Not every moment has to be gritty and realistic, sometimes you can let go and have fun with it like filmmakers used to, back in the day.

MILD SPOILER

In particular, there is a great scene involving the group cast, the discovery of an alive, intact baby, and the decision making and consequences that ensue.  To be warned, it is not for the faint of heart.

END OF SPOILER

Z NationHowever, like a well-worn and bloodied coin, “Z Nation” does a hold a flame to AMC’s famed “The Walking Dead”—  And, it does so quite cleverly.  It takes the situations that the characters are dealt and the consequences of a zombie invasion and pits them in a real world context, much like “The Walking Dead.”  How the characters’ behave, proceed, and deal with one another is fairly realistic considering the circumstances.

The pilot does an excellent job introducing the main cast, the time frame, setting, and overall goal.  As an audience member, you could see the logical line of progression and how several seasons worth of episodes could be produced without breaking away from the plot line (e.g. think Star Trek’s “The Voyager”).

Ultimately, I think “Z Nation” has good odds of striking a dent in “The Walking Dead” market share.  “Z Nation” does a little bit of both—  It’s campy like the old shuffle and blood zombie flicks and it tackles supernatural problems with real world engagement.

I recommend at least checking out the pilot for the deciding vote.  At the very least, I see a strong cult following for this television show, and as for me I’ll be buckled in for the native Spokane scenery and strong allure of the zombie.

Ten Things You Probably Don’t Know About Me


ImageThe other day I was finally catching up on my blog readings and I came across NDP’s post, “Ten things you may not know about me…”  It is a great piece.  Oftentimes, writers, bloggers, and artists create these blogs, but as they become more successful and larger than their original roots a new persona is created.  Readers begin to lose sight of the blogger and the blogger loses sight of his or her readers.

A simple post titled, “Ten Things You Probably Don’t Know About Me,” brings it back though.  It closes the gap between the writer and the reader.  I find this to be important.  I write for those to read, and I read to engage those that write.  I should never expect any less of myself.

Check NDP’s blog, “NDPworld.”  It’s a regularly updated and fantastic blog featuring the thoughts and poetics of NDP.  He is acutely aware of social and cultural beats and it is shown within his poetry.  I always gain a new perspective when reading his work.  I urge you to check it out.

Here is my blatant ripoff, “Ten Things You Probably Don’t Know About Me”:

  • I’ve worked as a grocer for the past six-years in various departments and positions.  A jack-of-all-trades if you will.  I enjoy it because it provides health insurance and stories.
  • My favorite band is the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and my favorite album of theirs is “By The Way”; however, my favorite track is “Under the Bridge” from their “Blood. Sugar. Sex. Magik” LP.  *As an aside: vinyl is the only way to go.
  • I enjoy longboarding a great deal.  One of my closest friends and I are building our own longboards, and are considering starting a ‘Spokane Longboarding Group’ for amateurs.  We’re working on several Spokane longboarding guides.
  • I am an atheist.  I appreciate theological and religious scripture from a historical and literary standpoint, but I have difficulties believing in a God.  However, that being said I rarely ever bring it up and it doesn’t bother me to hear of other people’s faith as long as they aren’t trying to indoctrinate me.
  • I have an obese ten-year-old Black and Tan Dachshund named Norman.  I’ve had him for over five-years now and he is the first dog I’ve ever really owned.  He is my best friend, and I don’t know what I would do without him.
  • I am a coffee addict.  It seems cliche, especially coming from a Washingtonian, but I enjoy coffee immensely.  My French Press is my friend.  Luckily for me I work right next to a Starbucks.
  • My best friend and I are currently writing a television screenplay called, “Baggage,” that is about the dark humor found when working in a retail industry, the macabre found in higher education without a job, and crazy girlfriends and boyfriends.
  • I grew up in and around Spokane, WA, USA.  I ended graduating from high school in Cheney Washington and tried to finish a bachelor’s degree at Eastern Washington University, but inevitably found writing to be my calling, rather than academia.
  • I have an immense love of comic books.  I find them to be an ‘American Mythology’ of sorts.  I started my writing career writing reviews about comics books and I still trek down to Merlyn’s Sci-fi and Fantasy Shop every week and pick up my haul.  Funnily enough, my fiancée also enjoys them a great deal and it is a hobby that we started together when we first started dating.
  • I’ve often been described as eccentric.  I try to be a student of all. I love all-types of philosophy, literature, film, and games.  I can be fairly moody, and I think that this plays into my interests.  It has to match my mood, but at the end of the day I will try anything once just to say I have.

 

“Resurrection”


I have definitely been remiss in my posts.  With the holidays, and my reentry into University my time has waned quite considerably.  I do apologize for my lack of updates and posts, especially to those of you who follow regularly or subscribe via Kindle…it truly is not fair to you who are paying for monthly content and not receiving it.  If you’ll stay on board a few months longer I do promise to up the post count by providing (hopefully) quality posts that’ll draw in more readers and keep the ones that have always supported me.

As a sort of symbolic gesture I give you “Resurrection.”  I have never been one to enjoy poetry, but this last quarter I was required to an introductory poetry course at Eastern Washington University that really opened my eyes.  I fell in love with T.S. Eliot…and hard.  “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” is magnificent, and after reading it you open up to the world a little bit more than you were before.  Others also caught my eye and others I will always be disdainful of, but in the end I had garnished a bit of appreciation for the art which has led me to the writing of some of my own poetry.

Personally, I find my foray to be a bit shallow, but I am trying to improve.  “Resurrection” is the first hopefully many shallow forays, but for the content of the preface I think it fits quite wonderfully.  Read, comment, and enjoy.

“Resurrection”

His Walther PPK loosely holstered and licensed
A weathered Q Branch hidden with gadgets
to aid in his explosive endeavors;

Globetrotting to gather women–
left garbless & satisfied
they strike and parry in lust

Till the sky fell he was flat,
and
while he slowly declined the world became…
not enough.

The women fade under forgotten title screens
And, now he is grizzled and worn.
But
like his chief hobby

The Double-O is Reborn