Why count sheep when you can blog about music and robots and zombies??

Every once in awhile when I'm in a creative mood, or at least thinking about being creative, I'll stumble across a song that is perfect for whatever I have in mind. Earlier this year when I was brainstorming the still unfinished Bad Jeremy Trilogy, I heard the song "Robotboy" by Robyn and my brain was flooded with images for the perfect ending montage for the film. I love the feeling when this epiphany takes place. I realize my ideas aren't anything spectacular or groundbreaking, but there is still a certain satisfaction when this happens.

I'm writing this because I just had one of those moments. It was such a random occurrence too! I was writing down some ideas about a short film involving zombies and robots (very high-brow), and I was trying to decide on some music to listen to. I find that music can be a useful, though imperfect, resource in evoking certain moods or emotions when I'm writing. For some reason I decided on an obscure band I hadn't listened to in a very long time, The 1900's. It wasn't until the third song of their only full-length album that magic happened. The song "When I Say Go" immediately jumped out at me. I remembered listening to it sometime in the past, but this time the music and lyrics struck me like lightning. It fits perfectly with the premise and mood of the film I'm trying to conceptualize. How often are you going to find a song that fits perfectly with your ideas for a film about humans and robots teaming up to fight off the zombie horde? Look at these lyrics:

Watching all the quiet faces I don't understand

I believe we can be rescued by better things than man

And everyone would be so sorry I don't even know

I've been watching all my time go to waste

And you never thought you'd be so slow

First one to the steps when I say go

Any body but my own

Waiting on the lines that we define

Listen up! I never knew I'd ever be so sad

I've been touched in places by very scary hands

If anyone should ask me I'll tell them I don't know

I've been leaving all my clues like my footprints in the snow

And you never thought you'd be so slow

First one to the gate when I say go

And you need to hold your own

Waiting on the lines that we divide

All the world is cold

Ice to snow to sun

Look at what is left

It's just me

And I've been waiting all alone

Watching all the quiet faces I can understand

Why we need to be rescued by better things than man

And you never thought you'd be so slow

First one to the steps when I say go

Any body but my own

Waiting on the lines that we define

Waiting for the one I love

I've been forgetting you

It's late and I don't feel the need to point out all the parts of that song that turn on light bulbs in my head. I guess I just felt the need to blog something, and, since I couldn't sleep, this is what I came up with. I should really sleep now.

Late-night post that went longer than I planned.

I was perusing Facebook this afternoon and came across a status update from an acquaintance, not really much of a friend. The update upset me, and I hurriedly copied it to use later in this post. This acquaintance wrote:

"Dear Lord Obama, please increase teacher salary or cut my taxes so that I can take home the money I earn instead of paying for the following: 1. Medicare and Medicaid (I pay for my own insurance, thanks ;-), 2. Some skank-meth-addicts 5th drug baby 3. Food stamps of those who will never do anything to pay society back. Love, C. Montgomery Burns." (name obviously changed)

I normally don't scoff at all when this stuff all too frequently appears on Facebook, but for some reason, this upset me. I'm not going to write a lot about this, but I will say a few things in my own little letter.

"Dear C. Montgomery Burns, shouldn't the free market determine your wages? Don't like what you're earning, get a different job or complain to the free market. Your 'letter' displays an alarming lack of compassion, not that compassion is commonly associated with conservatism or anything, but I'd expect a little more from you. You and I both, after all, spent two years of our lives trying to help people live better and happier lives. Not that the government necessarily needs to be the body to extend compassion to people, but history has shown that treating one another with compassion has not been high on mankind's list of priorities. What did James say about religion pure and undefiled? I feel like your views are shortsighted, not to mention selfish. You probably don't have any kind of preexisting condition which would preclude you from receiving affordable health insurance. You have a job, however low-paying the salary may be. You are fortunate and should consider yourself lucky. Everyone isn't that fortunate, however. And yes, people can and should work to improve their lot in life, but you do not know people's circumstances and are really in no position to judge them or determine how worthy they are of aid. But maybe you're right. Maybe we can't possibly worry about helping other people until we first worry about ourselves and make sure that we have all we want. Thank you for your timely Facebook status update."

It's been a good week for concerts. I saw two bands I had wanted to see for a very long time. Sunny Day Real Estate played a reunion show with the original lineup, playing mostly songs from their first two albums, and it was amazing. They sounded just like I hoped they would. They played with a lot of energy and intensity. They played a fantastic set and were very tight. The lead guitarist had a huge grin on his face throughout the entire show, and it always made me happy when I saw it. Having been a fan since I first heard them as a teenager (many moons ago), I never thought I would have a chance to see them live. I'm grateful I did. Then later in the week I saw Autolux with my boys Andrew and Whitney, and it was one of the loudest shows I've ever been to. Autolux were incredible and put out an incredible wall of sound for a trio. We were bombarded with sound, standing only a few feet from the small stage. Each member of the band was off in their own little world, doing their own thing, but they were always right with each other. The drummer, Carla Azar, was incredible to watch. She is an amazing drummer. During the set, she rarely smiled or showed any emotion. She seemed very focused, very into what she was playing, almost oblivious to everything else going on around her. Then after the show, she was at the band's merch table. Andrew, Whitney, and I dropped by because we wanted shirts. (I bought a band shirt for the first time since I saw the Wrens in Seattle in December 2005). At the table, Carla was smiling and laughing, very friendly. I told her I really enjoyed the set and thought the new songs they played were fantastic. (Their second album will finally be released after New Year - it's been over five years since they released their perfect debut album). I was pleasantly surprised with the difference in her on-stage and off-stage demeanor. Let it be know, I love Autolux. They put on an amazing show, and I hope to see them again someday. Hopefully my ears will have recovered by then.

In other music news, I have been listening to The XX a lot this week. I first heard them months ago on NPR, and I was very impressed then. The band consists of four 20 year old Brits. Their songs are quite low-key and feature a lot of back and forth, boy-girl vocals. I'm astounded that 20 year-olds are making music this refined and mature. They're not overcompensating for songwriting deficiencies with volume or enthusiasm. They just write very, very solid songs. Their debut album is perfect for listening to at night with a set of quality headphones. I recommend the song "Crystalised" as a good introduction.

I will now attempt to sleep so I can wake up, finish cleaning my bedroom and bathroom for cleaning checks, and play an intramural football game. Adieu.

Go mighty Cougars!

I should have written this earlier, but it's been a crazy week. Last week saw the return of college football, and all was well in the (sports) world again. Ever since I heard that BYU was in talks to play Oklahoma in their season opener for 2009, I was worried. That worry grew when Florida defeated Oklahoma in the BCS championship game, and Sam Bradford and Co. announced that they would return for another season. Only winning a championship could motivate players guaranteed millions in the NFL to return for another season. With that kind of motivation, I figured the entire Oklahoma team would have a chip on its shoulder all season.

However much I feared Oklahoma, I never wrote off BYU's chances because in college football anything can happen. That fact became the basis of my hope that BYU could pull of an incredible upset. Whenever people asked me how I thought the game would turn out, I would answer that the logical part of me thought Oklahoma would win, but the rest of me was holding onto that one beautiful truth that anything could happen.

It's gameday. Twenty-five people crowd into the living room of my apartment. The game is dead even. The atmosphere is electric. Everyone is cheering loudly. I jump to my feet and high five nearly everyone in the room after every great play. The little blue wind-up dancing robot leads us in our celebration dance. We run around the apartment complex and yell after each of BYU's two touchdowns and after the final whistle blows. Provo is full of celebration. We drive down the streets slowly. I honk my car's horn. We all yell and put our index fingers into the air triumphantly. Crowds of people are gathered on street corners, all of them cheering loudly and happily. A rally is quickly organized to meet the players when their plane lands in the early morning hours. The college football world is stunned, and Provo is content, ecstatic, and optimistic. College football is back, and the Cougars have burst onto the scene with one of their biggest victories of all-time.

It really was an intense and incredible game. I have never been in a better atmosphere for watching a road game on TV. Many props to everyone who watched the game in my apartment. I'll never forget the game or my experience watching it. I'd like to forget the monstrous bratwurst sandwich thing my roommate Jeremy concocted; it was delicious but later destroyed my innards. Earlier that day, before the game started, I was speaking with a friend who said she couldn't understand the appeal in watching sports on television. I tried to explain to her why I love watching sports, but I wasn't very successful. Had she watched the game with us, I think she might finally understand.

A few observations made during and after the game:

• DEFENSE! How great was the BYU defense? That goal line stand was epic. I am now very proud that my #1 jersey, which used to be Fui Vakapuna's number, is now being sported by Pendleton, the outside linebacker. He had a fantastic game and, along with Andrew Rich, the safety, was the most pleasant surprise of the evening. Let's hope the Cougar defense continues to play with such ferocity. Props to Coach Hill for calling a great game and constantly confusing Oklahoma's inexperienced offensive line and putting pressure on Bradford. Clawson is a beast.
• I feel like this game could be for Max Hall what the 2006 TCU game was for John Beck: a season and career-defining performance. Let's hope this victory will give Max the confidence and poise to take on other high-powered defenses (TCU, Utah). The nine minute fourth quarter drive was superb. It was later revealed that Hall called all of his own plays until reaching the red zone, and that impressed me a lot.
• Play of the game (other than the goal line stand): the fourth-down conversion during the epic fourth quarter drive. On 3rd and long, J.J. Di Luigi manages to pick up a couple yards on a draw play. Immediately the team lines up and snaps the ball, and Hall finds Pitta for what turns out to be a twenty yard gain. What impressed me most was the fact that the play was called in the huddle on third down. The team knew exactly what to do, and Oklahoma's defense was left reeling by BYU's perfect execution.
• This game was won by BYU. True, Bradford's injury changed things, but anyone who watched the game knows that BYU was outplaying Oklahoma even with Bradford in the game. Take away BYU's turnovers, and Oklahoma wouldn't have scored in the first half. Anyone wanting to play the injury card ought to remember that BYU was playing without Harvey Unga. While Kariya played spectacularly as Unga's replacement, Unga brings a whole new dimension to the BYU offense. Had he played, BYU would have won by a larger margin.
• It was just one game. True, but it was just one amazing game, one of the biggest in BYU's history. Go ahead and celebrate it. Too many wet-blanket pessimists have been coming out of the woodwork, trying to discount the victory and act as if we shouldn't enjoy it. It's not every day, or decade, that we beat a Top 5 opponent. As long as the players continue to prepare well and focus their attentions on the next game at hand, everything will be okay. There's no need to repress the celebrations. I, for one, think every second of the celebration was earned. I hope to celebrate many more victories this season. People need to enjoy life and not worry about protecting themselves from disappointment and pain. Every Cougar fan suffered through last season's losses, but this is a new season and a new team.
• I am a believer in this BYU team.

I have been way too excited for the next game against Tulane, and I am relieved that it is just over fifteen hours away. Go Cougars!

The Beatles: Rock Band

TWO THUMBS UP!

I picked up my copy of The Beatles: Rock Band today and finally got around to playing it around 9:30 p.m. Nearly four hours later, I can say that it is a great game. I always imagined that playing with six people at once (guitar, bass, drums, and three vocalists) would be great, but I didn't know just how great it would turn out to be. While we didn't hit many of the three-point harmonies perfectly, there were moments of sublime harmonization. It's going to be a lot of fun learning and mastering the different parts. I even played the bass and sang during the Apple Corps rooftop, made possible by a neighboring apartment's mic stand. It was difficult but still a lot of fun.

I am excited for the downloadable content, especially the Abbey Road Side B medley, and I'm sure my love for this game will only continue to grow.

Anyway, time for golden slumbers.

And in the end...

...the beard you take is equal to the beard you make.

I have been bearded since the end of the intramural basketball season in March, but the end is in sight for my current beard. I have grown quite attached to this beard, or perhaps saying it has grown quite attached to me is more apt. Anyway, intramural soccer starts next Wednesday, and I must shave. The sacrifice will be worth it because we have more talent on our roster than I've played with on any intramural soccer team. I am very excited to play.

The shaving of the beard will take place in a gradual process. I plan to initiate phase one tomorrow afternoon. If all goes according to plan, I will post a photo on this blog. That is all for now.

A few words

I am now involved in a social experiment of sorts. I'm not going to go into details right now, but this so-called experiment will lead to more writing. How much of that writing will end up on this blog is uncertain, but there will be more writing.

Just felt like posting something since it's late and I'm still awake.

Checking In

You'd think with the number of times I've resolved or declared my intent to write more that I would actually, you know, write more.  You'd be wrong.  I wish I could cast blame on someone other than myself - my roommates, friends, and whoever I end up hanging out with all the time - but you and I would know that is dishonest.  One of the good things with summer ending soon, besides the return of college football, is that I hope to have fewer distractions at hand, fewer opportunities to do things other than writing.  I really do wish I had more down time, more time to occupy with solitary activities like reading and writing.  I'll hold off on making any bold declarations of renewed intent to write.  For once, I'll try and let my actions do the talking (or writing).

In other news:  college football is weeks away from opening day.  Fall camps are in progress across the country, and I am incredibly excited.  I purchased my sports pass this week and cannot wait, though I must wait until September 19th, for BYU's first home game.  There is nothing like returning to Lavell Edwards Stadium for the first home game of the season.  The atmosphere is incredible.  I have some pretty high hopes for this football team.  I think they're gonna be pretty good.  The Oklahoma game is going to be tough, but I am not writing off the team's chances.  Anything can happen in college football.  Anything.

My pretentious reading quest is sputtering along.  I actually started reading a book that didn't win the Pulitzer, though it was a finalist - that's how I justify my actions.  I'm reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers, who also wrote the film Away We Go and co-wrote the film adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are.  It's a piece of creative nonfiction about Eggers' experience losing both parents to cancer within five weeks when he was in his early twenties and becoming the legal guardian of his younger brother.  From the little bit that I have read, I think I am really going to love this book.  I'll get back to my pretentious quest soon enough.

The best film playing in theaters right now is 500 Days of Summer.  I have seen it twice now, and I've written about it in a couple posts at my other blog.  I recommend you see it if you have the chance.  For those of you in Provo, it's currently playing at the Towne Center and University Mall cinemas.  Support quality cinema.

Fall is nearly here.  That means new people will be moving into my apartment complex.  I'm always optimistic at the beginning of a new school year, though I'm no longer a student, that I will be lucky enough to meet someone who will reciprocate interest and that a healthy, long term relationship will result from it.  I don't know though.  I'm getting older and the girls going to BYU keep getting younger.  There will be girls here born in the 90's.  Is that not insane?  You never know how things are going to turn out so I'm going to continue to hope that things will turn out well.

We got a new bishopric today.  I'm going to miss Bishop Oyler and Brother Larsen.  It was a privilege to serve more closely with them the past few months, and I am grateful to have had them as examples in my life.  I know the new bishop, Bishop Lott, is going to do a great job.  I was impressed with his determination to hit the ground running, and I can tell he is going to be a great example of service.  I'm looking forward to serving with and getting to know the new bishopric of our ward.  The Church is pretty remarkable in how it never misses a beat amidst leadership changes, and that is one of the greatest proofs, in my mind, that it is not the work of men.  Not only are all positions filled by regular members of the Church, sacrificing their time and talents to the work, but the transfer of leadership is quick and painless as everything continues onward.

Thus concludes my little update.

A pretentious reading quest.

I really haven't done enough reading since I graduated over a year ago. It's quite sad actually. I believe there is no better way to improve writing than by reading great writing, and it's no wonder I haven't really progressed as a writer lately. I always seem to make grand declarations of noble intentions, but I really do mean to make more time for reading. I have already finished two books this month (Persuasion by Jane Austen and Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist), but I know I can do better.

It's my current intent to read all of the Pulitzer Prize winning novels. I realize this might sound pretentious, but I promise I'm doing this for a better reason than to be able to say, "I've read every novel that's ever won a Pulitzer." Though I must admit that wanting to be able to say that I had read War and Peace was one of the biggest reasons I started reading that gargantuan book, it was not, however, my reason for finishing the novel. I will someday share more about my experience reading War and Peace and how it profoundly affected me. My reason for wanting to read all the Pulitzer winners is this: I need to improve my writing, and I am confident these books can teach me a lot about writing.

I've taken the first step toward reading all the Pulitzer winners by buying a bunch of them. Borders has had some great deals the past month, and I have purchased a good number of the last fifteen Pulitzer-winning novels. I'm still unsure about how I want to go about selecting which novels to read first, whether I'll just go by the ones that interest me most or whether I'll read them in a reverse chronological order. I'm leaning towards reverse chronological order. In any way, I'm planning on reading the winners of the current decade before moving back any further. Fortunately, I have read three of this decade's winning novels. Here is a brief rundown of my future reading list.

• 2000: Interpreter of Maladies - Jhumpa Lahiri; a collection of fantastic short stories. I was turned onto this book by an English grad student who taught one of my lower-level English courses. A very good read.
• 2001: The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay - Michael Chabon; I've heard good things about Chabon, but I've never read any of his works. I'm looking forward to reading this some day.
• 2002: Empire Falls - Richard Russo; I really don't know anything about this book nor the author.
• 2003: Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides; I actually bought this book before assuming my quest to read all the Pulitzer winners. The book's blurb sounded interesting so I got it.
• 2004: The Known World - Edward P. Jones; another book I know nothing about.
• 2005: Gilead - Marilynne Robinson; I read this book in my Advanced Writing course, and it was amazing. A good chunk of the book is written as a letter from a dying Midwestern pastor to his infant son. As you would assume from that briefest of introductions, the book deals a lot with mortality and spirituality. It's a very moving book, and reading it was definitely the highlight of that course.
• 2006: March - Geraldine Brooks; hey look, another book I don't know anything about.
• 2007: The Road - Cormac McCarthy; I picked up this book after reading McCarthy's No Country for Old Men, a very bleak book. The Road is even darker, a bleak vision of post-apocalyptic life. It tells the story of a father and a son struggling to survive as the earth slowly dies each day. While McCarthy paints perhaps the bleakest picture of society's demise, he creates one of the purest and most poignant father-son relationships in all of literature. I was unable to put this book down and read it within twenty-four hours. It is both devastating and inspiring.
• 2008: The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao - Juniot Diaz; I purchased this book six months ago, but I haven't picked it up yet.
• 2009: Olive Kitteridge - Elizabeth Strout; surprise surprise, another book I had never heard about until I decided to purchase it.

While writing this blog I have come to the decision that I will read at least this first decade of Pulitzer winners (the ones I haven't previously read) in reverse chronological order, meaning I will commence with Olive Kitteridge. I'll write at least a little something about each book as my quest progresses forward.

Here's to pretentious reading quests!

Introducing The Proverbial Phantom Wallaby opening for Moses and his Tabernacle Choir!

Tuesdays are usually slow days.  While not as bad as Mondays, they still seem to drag on endlessly.  Today, however, was a pretty good day.  I had a couple good conversations to keep things interesting at work, I played a decent round of disc golf and won by a stroke, I ate delicious Hawaiian haystacks for our dinner group, I played some Rock Band, and then I climbed a couple trees.

One of my interesting conversations was with Caitlan on Google Chat, a new friend made some 17 days ago.  We got on the subject of how using big words in everyday conversations can boost one's credibility, make you seem smarter and more important.  We started throwing around interesting big word combinations; my favorite was "proverbial phantom wallaby," courtesy of Caitlan.  I mentioned that The Proverbial Phantom Wallaby would make an awesome band name.  We tossed around a few other sweet band names here and there throughout the duration of the conversation.

All this reminded me of a life dream I once had.  I've always wanted to be in an awesome band, and during the summer of 2003, I decided I wanted, more than anything, to be in a sweet disco-funk band.  (I was listening to a lot of disco at this time.  It helped keep things bearable while I was working nights at the BK in Vernal).  I envisioned the band being huge: at least two guitarists, a bassist, a drummer, a horn section (trumpet, trombone, french horn), at least two violinists, two to three backup singers, and a miscellaneous percussionist to handle the cowbell, triangle, maracas, bongos, and other awesome percussion instruments.  I figured I would be one of the guitar players, and I would handle singing as well as putting together our song arrangements.  There'd be a female singer to share lead vocal duties.  We'd play a mixture of classic disco songs and our own compositions.  In my head, it all seemed possible.  I had even decided on a couple songs we'd cover:  Lipps, Inc.'s "Funkytown" and, my personal favorite, the LDS classic "Together Forever."  (I still think that someone could seriously record an incredible cover of that song).  Who wouldn't love this band?  Our music would make everything in the world alright.  It's impossible to listen to great disco-funk without smiling; unless, of course, you have no soul.

All the dream band lacked was a name, and it lacked one for a while.  This dream followed me to Brazil, and it was there, some six months into my mission, that a name came to me.  I was in the city of Aracatuba, in my second area in the city, and I was a young senior companion.  Things were tough in my area, and it was probably in trying to relieve my troubled spirit that the name came to me:  Moses and his Tabernacle Choir.  Of course, it would only seem clever to an LDS missionary whose daily reading consisted entirely of scripture and who could only listen to church music, stuff like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.  Everything would depend on people remembering that Moses had a tabernacle, and then connecting that idea with MoTab.  (I could see the name playing well in Utah, Idaho, and Arizona; everywhere else, people would probably be confused).  

It's kind of funny, but the whole description of the band sounds a lot like the Polyphonic Spree, a band that once had something like twenty members who would all dress in robes and play very happy spirit-lifting music, verily, a band I love a lot.  I assure you, readers, I was not aware of the Polyphonic Spree at the time I dreamed of forming a sweet disco-funk band.  I did not copy nor rip-off anyone else's idea.  I still wish that I could be in a band like this.  If I were, I could die happy---after doing lots of other important things (getting hitched, continuing my family tree, writing books, attending a World Cup, etc.) and getting old and decrepit, of course.

Anyway, I just thought I'd share this personal dream with the world.  It felt like the right time.  I should have another, more substantial post coming this week.  I'm in the preparation stage, going over things in my head; I'll probably move on to the note writing/outline making stage tomorrow (later today, actually).  

Time to get the funk out (and into the world)!

Words and dreams and a million screams

With a present need for direction, I turn to the past.

Originally written 26 December 2006:

Life has an ironic sense of humor, and it loves to point out the ironies of my existence.  There are certain things that I yearn for, that I long to have in my life, and yet I'm constantly being reminded that I'm incapable of obtaining those things.  My true self is riddled with contradictions, paradoxes, and unanswerable questions.  Why am I this way?  Why can't I do this or that?  

I want nothing more than to feel accepted by others.  I want to truly be a valuable addition to others' lives, to know that I am appreciated and that others need my company.  In some way I suppose that I'm searching for meaning and justification in my life and my choices.  Yet all the while life hits me upside the head and screams into my ear that I have to make my way through life on my own...

No man is an island, or so they say, though I feel like I am some uncharted desert isle that no one knows about nor will ever discover, and this frightens me...  The future is some horribly bleak unknown that I'm involuntarily nearing with each passing day.

Let's get a little more irony up in here with something written 25 May 2002:

It seems nothing ever changes in my life.  Through the characters of the story seem to come and go, the plot remains the same.  Like a bad sit-com, my life seems destined for re-runs.  Everything that has happened to me will happen again, only in a less comical fashion.

While these words may strike you as a bit melodramatic or over-the-top, I find them quite helpful.  They've reminded me this evening of some important personal truths, and those reminders have helped me resolve to put an end to my mediocrity and complete lack of create productivity.  I hereby resolve to do what it takes, sacrifice what I must, and prioritize my life that thereby I might achieve the things I feel I am capable of achieving.  I'm too tired and frustrated with myself to continue on in blissful ignorance.  The bubble surrounding me since graduation one year ago, no matter how small and trivial it may have been, has burst, and the scales have fallen from my eyes.  It is, as I said to Janessa tonight, better to move closer to achieving success and personal fulfillment on one front than continue toiling in futility on another front.

This may appear vague and cryptic to some of you (most of you, I'd presume), but let it suffice me to say that it is time for me to write.  And not in a write-more-often-in-my-blog kind of way.  I am talking about serious creative writing, the writing I wish to do for the rest of my life, the writing I hope will help me make a living and maybe, just maybe, bring some good into this world.  I have been coasting for too long, enjoying an unproductive life of (typically) superficial interaction, as if I didn't know any better.  I may have buried my head in the sand, but the rain and wind have finally eroded away enough of that sand that I am now seeing clearly (though perhaps still upside-down).  It's time to see things clearly and do what I am meant to do.

More on my personal ideas and feelings concerning writing and art will be coming soon.