That header sounds so old-fashioned, doesn't it? But hippies are old-fashioned. Our time is over but wow, we had one hell of a good run in the 60s. I don't think people today (who weren't there for the 60s) can possibly understand what it felt like to be a part of that. It was so safe.
Everywhere you went, there would be hippies there to greet you. We were omnipresent and you could just about guarantee that anyone with long hair was a good person. You could trust these folks and know that they wouldn't do you wrong. If you needed a place to crash, there was no problem finding one, at least in big cities. We were legion. (I like to use that word, what with its scary connotations for the most deluded religious folks.) You never had to ask for anything because people would share whatever they had: clothes, dope, lovers -- you name it.
When my best friend, a straight guy, was drafted during the Vietnam War in about 1967, before he went off to basic training he made a point of calling me, a guy named Richard and another guy named John into a room with him and his new wife. I think they had been married for about three weeks at the time. His big announcement was that his wife should feel free to have sex with any of the men in this room while he was gone. (Big whoop for me, being gay and all.) We all smiled. It was sweet, as most things were in those days. It was a kind era filled with trust and idealism.
I was a hippie in Boston, New York and San Francisco mostly. I spent a few years in Boston and lived in SF for a few months on two different occasions. Mainly I freaked out in Manhattan, but that's a post for another day.
Mind you, life was also boring back then. Straight people, which meant square people, were so boring that you would fall asleep if they talked to you. Repression and efforts to control people were rampant and expected but we laughed at them, mostly because we were high but also because they really were jerks. But the great thing was that no matter what was going on, you could always go hang out with some hippies. You belonged, every day and all the time.
We went from apartment to apartment, listening to music, talking about cosmic consciousness, having sex and doing drugs. Mostly it was just marijuana but we would ensure that we regularly supplemented our drug regimen with acid. It was a great, great time. Sparkly-like.
Today, the thing that makes me sad is not that those days are over but that they weren't followed by anything even vaguely similar. Where before you could always find your people, now you found yourself alone. You had no movement, no shared commitment or values. You had only yourself.
Luckily I'm gay (hooray!) so I got a reprieve after the 60s: the 70s! That was a tumultuous and exciting decade for gay people -- but that's a post for another day. I only bring it up here to say that the underground of the 60s was, for gay people, followed by the underground of the 70s. Once again, I could slip off into the night and meld with like-minded people. But even this haven was disrupted when AIDS ripped through the community and tore it apart.
There is no underground anymore, not for straight people, not for gay people and not for young people. It's gone and I hate that.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Never play their games
Okay, this is about two of my heroes. I have a lot of them and you may not agree with me about these two guys -- but in my book, they acted heroically. Though you probably won't recognize their names, I think they should be added to the liberal Mt. Rushmore. (C'mon, guys, let's build one.)
They are Peter Berdovsky and Sean Stevens. Names don't ring a bell? Remember way, way back in 2007 when there was the huge Boston terror scare? I know: what terror scare? What I'm referring to is the wildly foolish incident where our own United States version of the KGB decided they were looking at the face of terror when they saw . . . some battery-powered LED placards with an image of a cartoon character from an Aqua Teen Hunger Force movie. Scary! Oh yeah, now you remember: the big terrorism plot that wasn't.
Although normal people knew instantly that this was all nonsense, the thick-headed "homeland" (ugh) security people were scared out of their wits. That alone is fun. But the best thing, the moment that allowed for heroic theater, was the marvelous live press conference held by the dynamic duo of Berkovsky and Stevens. I fell out of my chair laughing when they got up in front of that mob of angry reporters and refused to answer any questions unless they were about "men's hairstyles of the 1970s".
I roared each time a new blotchy, red-faced reporter stood up and pointed an angry finger at the dynamic duo, insisting that they respond seriously to their Terribly Important Questions. But Berdovsky and Stevens remained in character (as if they were Stephen Colbert), only saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. That wasn't a question about men's hairstyles from the 1970s." They never dropped the act. The reporters were spittle-faced and virtually apoplectic by the time the press conference ended.
As I told our kids (i.e., my nephews) that day when I sat them down to watch a recording of the press conference, "these guys are true heroes." I told them to never let anyone stick them into a tight little envelope of their own design. You don't have to bend your shape to fit their preconceptions. Don't play their game; play yours. And especially remember that when people accuse you of things you haven't done, you have no reason to feel guilty. Just stand your ground and do not feed into their insanity. Play your game, whatever it may be. It was a great lesson for them, and one they always remembered. (And yes, I also did this with Andy Warhol interviews. The kids came to adore Andy, and rightly so. He never let people stick him into their suffocating little boxes; he played his own creative game, and the hell with you if you didn't like it.) This takes real courage.
I put this up today because I figured my blog readers might need a break, given that I've been cracking skulls here lately. There's a need to slam wingnuts, of course; I have to do it. But we also need to remember who we are and laugh out loud now and then. For me, that press conference was one of the few amusing interludes in our decade-long national nightmare. Peter Berdovsky and Sean Stevens, I love ya!
They are Peter Berdovsky and Sean Stevens. Names don't ring a bell? Remember way, way back in 2007 when there was the huge Boston terror scare? I know: what terror scare? What I'm referring to is the wildly foolish incident where our own United States version of the KGB decided they were looking at the face of terror when they saw . . . some battery-powered LED placards with an image of a cartoon character from an Aqua Teen Hunger Force movie. Scary! Oh yeah, now you remember: the big terrorism plot that wasn't.
Although normal people knew instantly that this was all nonsense, the thick-headed "homeland" (ugh) security people were scared out of their wits. That alone is fun. But the best thing, the moment that allowed for heroic theater, was the marvelous live press conference held by the dynamic duo of Berkovsky and Stevens. I fell out of my chair laughing when they got up in front of that mob of angry reporters and refused to answer any questions unless they were about "men's hairstyles of the 1970s".
I roared each time a new blotchy, red-faced reporter stood up and pointed an angry finger at the dynamic duo, insisting that they respond seriously to their Terribly Important Questions. But Berdovsky and Stevens remained in character (as if they were Stephen Colbert), only saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. That wasn't a question about men's hairstyles from the 1970s." They never dropped the act. The reporters were spittle-faced and virtually apoplectic by the time the press conference ended.
As I told our kids (i.e., my nephews) that day when I sat them down to watch a recording of the press conference, "these guys are true heroes." I told them to never let anyone stick them into a tight little envelope of their own design. You don't have to bend your shape to fit their preconceptions. Don't play their game; play yours. And especially remember that when people accuse you of things you haven't done, you have no reason to feel guilty. Just stand your ground and do not feed into their insanity. Play your game, whatever it may be. It was a great lesson for them, and one they always remembered. (And yes, I also did this with Andy Warhol interviews. The kids came to adore Andy, and rightly so. He never let people stick him into their suffocating little boxes; he played his own creative game, and the hell with you if you didn't like it.) This takes real courage.
I put this up today because I figured my blog readers might need a break, given that I've been cracking skulls here lately. There's a need to slam wingnuts, of course; I have to do it. But we also need to remember who we are and laugh out loud now and then. For me, that press conference was one of the few amusing interludes in our decade-long national nightmare. Peter Berdovsky and Sean Stevens, I love ya!
First person or third person?
Before I actually began to write fiction, I was convinced I would write in the first person (if I ever got around to it). Third-person writing seemed odd and distant, a foreign thing. We're used to writing in the first person; it's what we do. We leave notes on refrigerators that say, "I went to the store."
So at first glance that third-person stuff seemed weird to me. I was convinced I could never write that way. It seemed contrived, at least from a distance. So when I decided to write a novel I planned to use a first-person narrator. It sounded easier, I guess.
But when I began to write I found myself telling the story in the third-person. It just seemed appropriate and natural. I was surprised at how readily I slipped into third-person mode -- there didn't seem to be a trick to it at all.
Have you tried writing in both voices, first and third? What was your experience? Did one or the other seem more comfortable? I'd be interested to hear about it.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Writing update
For the past few days I've been writing new scenes for my first book, The Worlds. It's going well.
Writing fiction is always a magical process. I don't know when I'll write, how I'll write or what I'll write. I have plans but they go out the window the moment I begin.
Without warning, the urge to write hits me and I rush to the computer and I'm writing. Almost on its own, the writing continues in a mad rush until the scene is finished. And if I'm on a roll I don't stop. I just write another scene and then another one until there's no more writing left in me, and I collapse like a rag doll.
Writers make detailed plans all the time; I do it too. But then the writing happens and the plans go out the window. I say this all the time: I am not in control when I write. It's something else, something beyond consciousness that does the work. (Now, don't go thinking spirits or god nonsense; it's just Phil). However it happens, it feels damn good to write.
As a result of adding the new scenes, one of my main characters in the first book is now involved in an unusual romance. And in the process, the first book (which I confess was sinfully short in its first incarnation) is packing on pounds -- good pounds, I might add. This isn't just book obesity.
Anyway, good things are happening. I'm so thankful that I'm a writer.
Writing fiction is always a magical process. I don't know when I'll write, how I'll write or what I'll write. I have plans but they go out the window the moment I begin.
Without warning, the urge to write hits me and I rush to the computer and I'm writing. Almost on its own, the writing continues in a mad rush until the scene is finished. And if I'm on a roll I don't stop. I just write another scene and then another one until there's no more writing left in me, and I collapse like a rag doll.
Writers make detailed plans all the time; I do it too. But then the writing happens and the plans go out the window. I say this all the time: I am not in control when I write. It's something else, something beyond consciousness that does the work. (Now, don't go thinking spirits or god nonsense; it's just Phil). However it happens, it feels damn good to write.
As a result of adding the new scenes, one of my main characters in the first book is now involved in an unusual romance. And in the process, the first book (which I confess was sinfully short in its first incarnation) is packing on pounds -- good pounds, I might add. This isn't just book obesity.
Anyway, good things are happening. I'm so thankful that I'm a writer.
The TSA and religious folks
I got a big kick last week out of official hate-group spokesman Peter La Barbera (Americans for Truth) saying, "Is it fair to travelers who may end up getting 'groped' by homosexual TSA agents who are secretly getting turned on through the process?"
Yeah, that's just what's happening, petey. I'll bet gay guys are clamoring for those jobs. Sorry hon, but you don't know jack about gay men (or rather that's all you know about us). See, we get to touch guys' junk all the time. It's not a rarity in our lives.
If we want to have sex, we have sex. It's easy to find another guy to fool around with. So no, petey, it doesn't sound to us like it would be fun to touch random men at an airport. Have you ever looked at random men? Oh, I forgot, you're too busy watching us. Petey, you are far too interested in us, and everyone but you realizes this. I think you'd rather cop a feel than write about us but you're just too scared. Petey, here's the thing: only closet cases are as vicious as you. If you don't believe me, check out the pope: same story.
I think the only workers having trouble on the TSA line are delicate, bigoted, rightwing religious folks like you who are so sexually deprived that they're nearly insane. They have avoided men's bodies all their lives. They've probably never even gone to a gym or served in the army, so they've never seen a naked man. And now they have to touch their . . . parts!
So I'll bet lots of these allegedly straight TSA bigots are finding it hard to go to sleep at night, what with groping men for a living, and all. It probably stirs up their deepest sexual urges. Men! I imagine them trying to cast the devil (their thoughts of those nasty, vile penises) out of bed at night -- fruitlessly, of course. Yup, I think a lot of religious, male TSA bigots are quite excited by the new patdown procedures. We may see some severe crack-ups in this group if they have to continue groping guys all day long, penis after penis after penis.
In the meantime, you just keep on railing, petey, so you'll always be the biggest fool around no matter where you go. By the way, have you patted any guys down at the airport yourself, to, you know, see if your junk tingles? Go ahead, petey! And then tell us how it didn't affect you. Har har.
PS: I see we can add Eugene Delgaudio, an elected official on the Loudoun County Board of Supervisors in Virginia, to the list of similar men. He recently said: "the next TSA official that gives you an 'enhanced pat down' could be a practicing homosexual secretly getting pleasure from your submission." Having trouble sleeping at night, Eugene? Just askin'.
Yeah, that's just what's happening, petey. I'll bet gay guys are clamoring for those jobs. Sorry hon, but you don't know jack about gay men (or rather that's all you know about us). See, we get to touch guys' junk all the time. It's not a rarity in our lives.
If we want to have sex, we have sex. It's easy to find another guy to fool around with. So no, petey, it doesn't sound to us like it would be fun to touch random men at an airport. Have you ever looked at random men? Oh, I forgot, you're too busy watching us. Petey, you are far too interested in us, and everyone but you realizes this. I think you'd rather cop a feel than write about us but you're just too scared. Petey, here's the thing: only closet cases are as vicious as you. If you don't believe me, check out the pope: same story.
I think the only workers having trouble on the TSA line are delicate, bigoted, rightwing religious folks like you who are so sexually deprived that they're nearly insane. They have avoided men's bodies all their lives. They've probably never even gone to a gym or served in the army, so they've never seen a naked man. And now they have to touch their . . . parts!
So I'll bet lots of these allegedly straight TSA bigots are finding it hard to go to sleep at night, what with groping men for a living, and all. It probably stirs up their deepest sexual urges. Men! I imagine them trying to cast the devil (their thoughts of those nasty, vile penises) out of bed at night -- fruitlessly, of course. Yup, I think a lot of religious, male TSA bigots are quite excited by the new patdown procedures. We may see some severe crack-ups in this group if they have to continue groping guys all day long, penis after penis after penis.
In the meantime, you just keep on railing, petey, so you'll always be the biggest fool around no matter where you go. By the way, have you patted any guys down at the airport yourself, to, you know, see if your junk tingles? Go ahead, petey! And then tell us how it didn't affect you. Har har.
PS: I see we can add Eugene Delgaudio, an elected official on the Loudoun County Board of Supervisors in Virginia, to the list of similar men. He recently said: "the next TSA official that gives you an 'enhanced pat down' could be a practicing homosexual secretly getting pleasure from your submission." Having trouble sleeping at night, Eugene? Just askin'.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Why is dialogue different from other forms of writing?
Writing dialogue that sounds authentic and appropriate is a skill. At this point, I have no idea if I have that skill but I suspect I do. I don't struggle over dialogue; it just happens.
What prompted this post is that I noticed something this morning: when I edit, I leave the dialogue alone. This is totally weird because I really edit: I alter the wording often and joyfully. I like improving things. But the dialogue usually seems good to me and I leave it as is.
This alone indicates that it's a different type of writing. After all, it survives my stringent editing intact while nothing else does. I am a big alterer of words. I hack at them until I'm satisfied and I am one tough customer to please.
Yet the dialogue stays! I might move a "she said" from before a quote to after, but the dialogue itself always seem easy and sure so it survives the editing process. It's very odd. I wonder if there is less interference from my conscious mind when I write dialogue than when I'm describing something or setting up a scene. In the latter situations, I see a sort of word smorgasbord before my eyes as I write, and I choose among the selections. (I know: Phil does it, not me. But you know what I mean.)
When I write dialogue, it's different. There aren't all these competing versions in my mind, all angling for supremacy as if engaged in an evolutionary process. Dialogue simply occurs to me and I write it down. It's talking, and I know about talking.
On the other hand, I hear some writers say that they find dialogue difficult to write -- and the dreamers, those who plan to write a novel some day but never do, often feel this way before they even sit down to play their hand. They are convinced they won't be able to do it. In fact, I suspect this fear is one of the things that puts them off writing and leaves their idea in the "idea stage". Folks in this group should just do it. It may not be as hard as you think, guys. Give it a shot.
But as for those who have tried dialogue and failed, or are dissatisfied with their product, I wonder why. I'd love to hear from writers in this camp to learn about their experiences.
Please understand that I don't mean to diminish anyone's problems in this (or any other) area of writing. I imagine most writers find certain types of writing simpler than others. And as for me, who knows? Maybe my dialogue sucks. My books are not out to many readers yet so perhaps I have extreme dialogue problems that I don't know about. Still, I do wonder: why do I leave the dialogue alone when I edit? How is it different from other writing? I don't know the answer to this question but I find it interesting.
Lest I seem like someone who finds everything about writing easy, I offer this. One thing that gave me a hard time in my second sci-fi book was having a main character who is a song writer. Naturally, this meant he'd sing songs now and then -- and I would have to write the lyrics. This was so uncomfortable for me. Coming up with lyrics that didn't sound ridiculous was a tall order. In the end, I did it but I still wonder whether if the songs (two of them) sound silly. This is a distinct possibility.
Okay, I'm rambling. And I still don't know what the difference is between writing typical prose and writing dialogue. Tell me about you and dialogue. Did you ever try it? How did it go?
What prompted this post is that I noticed something this morning: when I edit, I leave the dialogue alone. This is totally weird because I really edit: I alter the wording often and joyfully. I like improving things. But the dialogue usually seems good to me and I leave it as is.
This alone indicates that it's a different type of writing. After all, it survives my stringent editing intact while nothing else does. I am a big alterer of words. I hack at them until I'm satisfied and I am one tough customer to please.
Yet the dialogue stays! I might move a "she said" from before a quote to after, but the dialogue itself always seem easy and sure so it survives the editing process. It's very odd. I wonder if there is less interference from my conscious mind when I write dialogue than when I'm describing something or setting up a scene. In the latter situations, I see a sort of word smorgasbord before my eyes as I write, and I choose among the selections. (I know: Phil does it, not me. But you know what I mean.)
When I write dialogue, it's different. There aren't all these competing versions in my mind, all angling for supremacy as if engaged in an evolutionary process. Dialogue simply occurs to me and I write it down. It's talking, and I know about talking.
On the other hand, I hear some writers say that they find dialogue difficult to write -- and the dreamers, those who plan to write a novel some day but never do, often feel this way before they even sit down to play their hand. They are convinced they won't be able to do it. In fact, I suspect this fear is one of the things that puts them off writing and leaves their idea in the "idea stage". Folks in this group should just do it. It may not be as hard as you think, guys. Give it a shot.
But as for those who have tried dialogue and failed, or are dissatisfied with their product, I wonder why. I'd love to hear from writers in this camp to learn about their experiences.
Please understand that I don't mean to diminish anyone's problems in this (or any other) area of writing. I imagine most writers find certain types of writing simpler than others. And as for me, who knows? Maybe my dialogue sucks. My books are not out to many readers yet so perhaps I have extreme dialogue problems that I don't know about. Still, I do wonder: why do I leave the dialogue alone when I edit? How is it different from other writing? I don't know the answer to this question but I find it interesting.
Lest I seem like someone who finds everything about writing easy, I offer this. One thing that gave me a hard time in my second sci-fi book was having a main character who is a song writer. Naturally, this meant he'd sing songs now and then -- and I would have to write the lyrics. This was so uncomfortable for me. Coming up with lyrics that didn't sound ridiculous was a tall order. In the end, I did it but I still wonder whether if the songs (two of them) sound silly. This is a distinct possibility.
Okay, I'm rambling. And I still don't know what the difference is between writing typical prose and writing dialogue. Tell me about you and dialogue. Did you ever try it? How did it go?
Saturday, December 4, 2010
The GOP and the roman catholic church
This morning, Joe.My.God pointed readers to an article on the ISSA site. That's the atheist-freethinker group at the University of Illinois. They report the idiotic words of some fool who's a cardinal in the catholic church. The dolt's name is Pell. He said:
That's my point. The vast majority of Americans realize, I think, that the GOP has become an odious monster. Most Americans don't like rightwing lunatics. While many are fooled by the inaccurate reporting foisted on them by just about every media outlet, GOPers with sound minds are horrified that the GOP has slipped into full-bore insanity. This is not what they hoped for.
I think the roman catholic church is making the exact same mistake. It thinks its flock will happily jump into the abyss with it. They won't. Most catholics are pretty normal, from what I've seen, and they are secretly or not-so-secretly disgusted that their church, an organization they had hoped to trust all their lives, has turned into an overflowing toilet.
The Catholic Conference of Bishops has been euding pus for a long time (and will squeeze out a lot more now that odious NY archbishop timothy dolan heads it). This group actually hands out anti-gay DVDs to the dioceses (that is so hard for me to believe!) and takes every backward position it possibly can. It's like they've decided to piss on humanity -- and they're letting loose a major stream right now.
But both the GOP and the roman catholic church are making a huge error. Most of their members are not insane, craven, hating machines -- and they will turn on their masters. Soon, I hope.
The time we are living through right now is a period of mental illness that will pass. And in the wake of the illness, as it ebbs away like a bad headache and we remember who we are, the warlords in charge of both the church and the GOP will be remembered by their constituents as disgusting and perverted creatures who tried to push a new Dark Age upon humanity.
I do love dear cardinal Pell's statement that atheists are "frightened of the future." Uh, just sayin', but aren't the people who look at the facts with open eyes and update their view of the world in order to accommodate reality actually the ones who aren't afraid? And on the other hand, aren't the people who hide in a 2,000-year-old book without meaning, who duck and parry each time reality knocks on their door, the deluded ones?
We atheists see purpose in our lives, even if the universe has no meaning. That's what they don't get. Humans apply themselves to their lives and seek and find meaning in real things -- you know, the stuff that actually exists out there. And you know what? Our purpose includes whacking religion at every opportunity.
So keep saying stupid things, Pell (BTW, he also agrees with the pope that condoms don't slow the spread of AIDS; in the article, he says condoms make AIDS "worse" in Africa!) and we'll keep laughing at you. Is it a deal?
But watch your membership rolls, fellas. They're dropping, as I'm sure you've noticed. Why do you think that is, cardinal guy? Could it be that you're a monster who's scaring folks away? Just sayin'.
"A minority of people, usually people without religion, are frightened by the future.....It's almost as though they've … nothing but fear to distract themselves from the fact that without God the universe has no objective purpose or meaning. Nothing beyond the constructs they confect to cover the abyss...life without purpose, without constraints."It's a riot, I know. Here's someone who shops lies to children for a living, and he's talking about a life without purpose. But the thing that hit me as I read this is that the roman catholic church is doing exactly the same thing the GOP is doing right now: jumping off Bridge Sanity into the dung-filled ocean of rightwing nonsense -- and leaving their core constituents in the dust.
That's my point. The vast majority of Americans realize, I think, that the GOP has become an odious monster. Most Americans don't like rightwing lunatics. While many are fooled by the inaccurate reporting foisted on them by just about every media outlet, GOPers with sound minds are horrified that the GOP has slipped into full-bore insanity. This is not what they hoped for.
I think the roman catholic church is making the exact same mistake. It thinks its flock will happily jump into the abyss with it. They won't. Most catholics are pretty normal, from what I've seen, and they are secretly or not-so-secretly disgusted that their church, an organization they had hoped to trust all their lives, has turned into an overflowing toilet.
The Catholic Conference of Bishops has been euding pus for a long time (and will squeeze out a lot more now that odious NY archbishop timothy dolan heads it). This group actually hands out anti-gay DVDs to the dioceses (that is so hard for me to believe!) and takes every backward position it possibly can. It's like they've decided to piss on humanity -- and they're letting loose a major stream right now.
But both the GOP and the roman catholic church are making a huge error. Most of their members are not insane, craven, hating machines -- and they will turn on their masters. Soon, I hope.
The time we are living through right now is a period of mental illness that will pass. And in the wake of the illness, as it ebbs away like a bad headache and we remember who we are, the warlords in charge of both the church and the GOP will be remembered by their constituents as disgusting and perverted creatures who tried to push a new Dark Age upon humanity.
I do love dear cardinal Pell's statement that atheists are "frightened of the future." Uh, just sayin', but aren't the people who look at the facts with open eyes and update their view of the world in order to accommodate reality actually the ones who aren't afraid? And on the other hand, aren't the people who hide in a 2,000-year-old book without meaning, who duck and parry each time reality knocks on their door, the deluded ones?
We atheists see purpose in our lives, even if the universe has no meaning. That's what they don't get. Humans apply themselves to their lives and seek and find meaning in real things -- you know, the stuff that actually exists out there. And you know what? Our purpose includes whacking religion at every opportunity.
So keep saying stupid things, Pell (BTW, he also agrees with the pope that condoms don't slow the spread of AIDS; in the article, he says condoms make AIDS "worse" in Africa!) and we'll keep laughing at you. Is it a deal?
But watch your membership rolls, fellas. They're dropping, as I'm sure you've noticed. Why do you think that is, cardinal guy? Could it be that you're a monster who's scaring folks away? Just sayin'.
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