metacriticism, but not really

So I was going to make today's post a long and elaborately styled criticism of Cam's The Darjeeling Limited review but then I decided against it. The reasons are three-fold. Firstly, Cam already knows what he did wrong, and I'm not feeling cold-hearted enough to beat it to death in the public eye. Secondly, I don't want to invite return criticism from that source or any other. And finally, I'm feeling like ten pounds of shit in a nine pound bag today. I'm in no state to read through that post again and formulate clever and biting remarks about movie criticism in general and Cam in particular.
I must focus all my energies on psychically enhancing my body's immune system to fend off whatever plague my girlfriend infected me with. I don't know how she managed to sneak the black death into my food while I was staying with her, especially since we went out to dinner for 3 out of 4 meals, but rest assured I will be avenged.
I guess I should say something about Darjeeling before I go? Maybe? As soon as Cam and I got home from the movie I asked "So which one of us is going to buy it when it comes out?" 'Nuff said.

Failure is an Artform

So neither Cam nor I are writing novels this month, and I'm okay with that. I've learned something about myself: I don't care about nanowrimo. Screw them for saying that "some day" never comes for people who are going to write a novel some day. I've got to leave myself something to do after I retire/while I'm collecting fraudulent disability cheques and am unable to leave my house. If I go with the second plan I can write, like, three or four novels at least.
None of this is to say I've quit writing now. I've just drastically reduced the pace. At this rate I should finish my current story just before the human race is enslaved by evil cybernetic overlords. Maybe I'll put that in the epilogue. It's long been my dream to write a beautiful, powerful, deep, evocative, choose your own adjective, important work of fiction and then append the words "and it was all a dream" but having it end with a brief chapter on world domination by space-cyborgs might be even more avante-garde.
Also, now that I've made the decision to throw deadlines to the wind I feel much freer and more creative, I'll probably write more now than I would have if my major motivation was to grind Cam into dust, word count-wise.

Bad Math, Worse Writing

So Cam and I are writing awful novels this month. We started yesterday and I don't know about Cam but so far I've only got 255 words of awful prose. I thought I only needed to write 1300 odd words a day in order to make the 50,000 word limit by the deadline but it turns out I'm even further behind than I thought. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say this is all Cam's fault. He's the one who suggested the idea to me in the first place and apparently he can't even divide 50,000 by 30.
But enough bitching, it's time to get proactive on this situation. I need to write three thousand seventy-eight and a third words by tonight in order to stay on schedule. This would be a lot easier to do if I knew what the hell my book was going to be about. So far all I have is two fantastically depressing and completely unrelated character concepts. And I'm not one of those writers who can spend three pages describing the exact shade of the drapes in Lady Witherspindle's drawing room so eventually something has got to actually happen.
Perhaps something will come to me inexplicably and without method. (Okay I can almost never find the clips I want so you should just imagine that some of those words in the previous sentence linked to a clip of Karen Eiffel and Penny Escher in that part in Stranger Than Fiction right after Kay figures out how she's going to kill Harold. Wouldn't that have been awesome?)

Subtle Irony, Guy, I Mean Jeeze

So even though only two people read this blog (to my knowledge) I've already been criticized by one, Cam. Yes, I wrote that name and didn't also perform the necessary actions to make it a link. And you know what? It felt good... I - I liked it. Why should I go to the trouble to link to someone who disses my blog titling scheme (having not even bothered to note the link between the previous title and the one before that - he could easily have won the random word game). And he just made me use the word 'disses'. As a verb!
But I'm not gonna let that get me down. Today I finished the final step in my co-op education process i.e. Rocking The House. My presentation didn't just go better than I expected, it killed. If everyone wasn't too self-conscious I bet there would have been standing ovations. Take that my sexy physics nemesis - all your good looks and ab muscles didn't help with your mediocre presentation skills did they? Well, maybe they did a little, I know I was pretty distracted. It's just so easy to get lost in those big blue eyes of his... sigh.

Spoon

Okay, quick question
Spoon: one of the best bands ever? or the best band ever?
Can't decide? Go see them in concert. Friggin' amazing.
Anyway, after the startling unsuccess of the previous post I guess I'll have to take things in a new direction again. It reminds me of the random word game Karen and I (but mostly I, in all honesty) invented. Basically the first person thinks of a word and says it, and the second person must think of a random word which is in no way related to the previous word (or words if you've been playing for a while) or to anything you're currently seeing or listening to. If the other person can guess the mental process that went into thinking of your word then you lose. It's basically impossible to lose, I mean the brain isn't a completely random machine but it's pretty darn close. The game always ended when I became too bored to continue with it. Karen just has more stamina I guess. I tried to add a rule where if the other person can come up with a link between words that is at least feasible (within a limited time) even if it's not true then that would be a win condition, but Karen wouldn't go for it. She doesn't like adding new rules to established games no matter how crappy they are.
All of which is to say that it looks like this space is going to be about a different thing each time I post. The only common thread being the earnest, diary-style blogging that I know pisses Cam off so much. Okay two common threads.

Dream Theatre

Okay, I did have a really great idea for this post, I came up with it the other night while walking to the overpass with Cam. Unfortunately it shrivelled under the twin suns of decency and hydrogen/helium. You see, when Cam has been drinking and I have been awake for enough hours to passably simulate it 'great' often means criminally tasteless and so bitterly sarcastic as to be considered 'cruel.' After thus building it up it couldn't possibly live up to expectations anyway but feel free to approach me (or possibly Cam, but I make no guarantees) in person for a synopsis of the gag. Check your righteous indignation at the door though, you've been thoroughly warned.
Having given further posts about Cam's blog the old college try I shall now begin with part one of my 434 part series "Better know my subconscious." In today's installment I shall describe two recent dreams I have had.
In the first, I find myself outside a hospital bearing a striking resemblance to a convenience store which was near my house when I was a child. In the dream I know that my girlfriend Karen is terminally ill inside this hospital and am debating on whether I should bust her out so that we can spend her last few days together. Since there is nothing the doctors can do for her in any case I decide to go ahead with it and carry her out to my car. (In the dream I have a car, at least.) As is my habit while driving I begin to sing quietly under my breath. In this case it's the song that begins "'L' is for the way you look at me" but that's the only line I get through because after that I am struggling against crying too hard to continue.
Compare and contrast this (in 500 words or less) with the dream I had the previous night in which Scorpius, Chewbacca and myself must brave the frigid landscape of a partially terraformed Mars in order to avert disaster at Site 2 of the colonization mission.
For any amateur psychologists out there trying to make sense of this I wish you joy of the riddle. I shall end with another reference to our beloved patron Cam, the only person I know whose dreams come ready-made with professional grade camera work, action beats, and jokes worthy of one of the better syndicated television comedies. In case he some day wishes to transform the work of his talented team of writers into something more tangible I shall omit the details but, suffice it to say, it involved Cam fighting a four-foot antagonist in a grocery store with hilarious results.
Next time: more jokes, less secrets.

In Which I Completely Destroy the Foundation of This Blog

Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Sham Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam
In order to show my support for "Now That's Comedy", and to improve its technocrati(sp?) rating, I've decided to link it bunches and bunches of times. Now I haven't actually read what's there today, or any other day this week for that matter, but it's the superficial display that counts. You're welcome.
Since this blog is pretty much entirely devoted to the subject of Cam's blog one might wonder why I haven't read it lately. I figure that anything that was particularly funny I'd have heard already, seeing as how he writes the damn thing about 20 feet from where I'm sitting now. Cam already has a bad habit of forgetting which stories he's told me, I don't think I need written and spoken versions to add to the redundancy.
But that does leave the question of what to fill this space with. I must meditate on this problem and return when I have a satisfactory solution.