Lord Veltha REBORN!

BEHOOOOOOOOOLD! I, the infamous LORD VELTHA, having freed myself from my emo bonds have declared all out WAR upon my inhibitions and once again begin my quest for TOTAL DOMINATION with complete confidence that I, LORD VELTHA, am the rightful ruler of the thoughts, perceptions and mental fabrications of reality that make up the universe around me. My true colors have been REVEALED, and my imperial banner soars high as an indication to my foes that they are about to be severely punched in the face by the FIST of my righteous and steadfast determination to be what I was always meant to be: unfathomably AWESOME.

In my quest for ullllllllltimate DOMINANCE, I have been pursuing a part-time job to fuel my outlandish schemes, and while I have staked out many an opportunity for employment I have wisely chosen to focus my sheer tenacity upon one PRIME job location as I am a firm believer that anything worth doing is worth doing WITH THE BURNING PASSION OF A THOUSAND EXPLODING SUNS! Some may regard me as a fool for placing all of my eggs in one basket, until they realize the eggs are really HAND GRENADES of UNWAVERING CONVICTION in a basket WEAVED FROM MY ALL-CONSUMING AND DELIGHTFUL CHARM! AND! ELEGANCE! While I still have yet to receive confirmation that the fruits of my labor are juicy and rich in vitamin C, I believe there is promise that I, LORD VELTHA, will receive notification of my first ever job interview in a matter of days. Victory! Is! AT HAND! And yet even if some horrible clerical error determines I do not meet the requirements for the position, I continue to spread my web of intrigue beyond the local bus route in the firm belief that word will spread through the underground of my UNDYING DETERMINATION TO ACHIEVE and that will be enough to solidify another promising job opportunity. Eventually, store managers will be BEGGING me to fill their vacant entry-level positions.

And to any non-believers out there who believe that I have completely forsaken my ART in order to pursue these lesser goals, and to the naysayers who claim I’m demoting myself to “wage slave,” FEAR NOT, for though technology is determined to fail me at every turn it is no MATCH for the combined force of my SUPERIOR INTELLECT and DUCT TAPE! I continue to audition for amateur voice acting roles in hopes of being discovered and to gain experience while I seek information that could lead me to a profession in the field. The Astonishing Dude Episode 3 is underway, with only a few roles in need of recasting, no real promise as of yet that we’ll get the show back online, and we are once more in want of a recording space to finish one last scene and record actors that are finally free now that school is out, but we’re limping along, and we limp with PURPOSE!

Also, with my allies free from school and available to provide me with much needed camaraderie on a more frequent basis, I believe it may be time to return to writing in earnest. Writing is what I do best, but it is a lonely art. I desire to write scripts for theater, film and comics. Many of my allies sail under other banners as they seek their fortune across the horizon. As an overlord I am nothing without minions, but I WILL persevere in my endeavors.

MOST IMPORTANT is my newfound resolve to return to the ULTIMATE BATTLEFIELD! Never again will I hide in shame before succumbing to my own insecurities. I will triumph! I will succeed! I asked a girl out! I am terrified! She’s going to say, “no!” She’s going to say, “yes!” I’m going to be stood up! I’m going to unintentionally stand her up! We’re going to be having a nice time and then WHAM! Nosebleed into the sushi! I’m going to be alone forever! I’m going to be stuck with a psycho forever! I’m going to take very deep breaths in the corner until I calm the hell down!

I AM LORD VELTHA! THE WORLD IS MINE!

PATHOS! AND GOOD! WILL!

Sincerely,
Lord V. <3

PS: I still haven't discussed medication with my physician.

Lord Veltha VS Medication

Criminal insanity is a term commonly thrown around by experts to describe voluntary or involuntary aversion to social regulations while adhering to a costumed or gimmicky aesthetic. Villains are typically perceived as power hungry tyrants, those who violently seek retribution for past wrongs, or people simply lashing out for attention. For the most part my goals to conquer my world in order to prove to myself that I can places me well inside the lines of super villainy, with my beauty being one of the few attributes separating me from my counterparts. I have recently been challenged to find a male super villain from American comic literature who was physically attractive, and frankly I am at a loss as the one possible exception was created by an Englishman.

In my quest to gain control over my life I have succeeded in weening myself off of medication, a process that took several years with many side effects, believing I was trained well enough that I could take the full brunt of my emotions without having them dampened by drugs. Anti-depression/anti-anxiety medications not only reduce the impact of negativity, but positive feelings as well, finding an even balance akin to a vegetative state, particularly when doses were often increased without regard for balance. The term "chemical imbalance" is an interesting analogy that some psychologists fail to recognize. If an imbalance is caused by a lack of dopamine and/or serotonin, then naturally increasing those will eventually restore balance, but too much will throw the scale out of whack again. (Disclaimer: I have not slept in two days, so what little psychiatric understanding I have is thusly reduced. I have a better understanding of behavior and emotion because my empathy levels are higher than my scientific vocabulary, and most psychobabble sounds to me an awful lot like psychobabble. My powers are purely analytical, and as such my "understanding" of the brains physical workings should not be taken into consideration when making your own life-altering decisions.)

I have been functioning without medication for approximately two to three years, and in that time I have managed to keep myself upright with few setbacks. However, in recent months my self-regulatory ability has begun to wane. If left unattended for prolonged periods of time, I am plagued by irrational fears and daymares that not only weaken my spirit, but my body as well. Many of my fears are brought about by my conviction that no matter what I do I will never succeed in my plans to build a sustainable future for myself. The climb is steep, and my ability to grip reality is being eroded away by sharp jagged fail.

I am losing my ability to trust myself alone. I am fine so long as I am in the company of those I resonate best with, and I have not gone weeks without a good night's sleep. I know that if I met my goals, or at least felt like I was making some actual headway in achieving them, that the need for medication would be negated. It's my lack of purpose and personal fulfillment that's driving me deeper into depression. Even TAD is feeling more like a hobby than it originally did a year ago. I am a dedicated worker, and a firm believer that if something's worth doing it's worth doing to the best of my ability, yet that seems to be difficult to get across in my job applications.

It took a lot of time and effort to come off medication, and I fear that if I start taking it again I'll be attached to it for the rest of my life. There shouldn't be any downside if it works, but I don't want to be dependent on chemical substances because I enjoy who I am when I'm happy, and that degree of happiness could be an unfortunate casualty I do not wish to risk. Medication is an option, and one that will be considered further in coming weeks, but I am of the utmost certainty that there would be no need for it so long as I can re-integrate self-regulatory mental processes into my daily life again, just long enough to achieve my goals.

The three driving goals I have are:

1) Obtaining a job.

This will not only provide me with a sense of purpose, and thus a reason to continue fighting, but much needed financial assistance to acquire and maintain the other two goals.

Adversity: Poor networking, limited job supply, no "practical" work experience, though I hold fast to the fact that directing and producing TAD, even at an amateur level, is great leadership and organisational experience.

2) Owning and having the legal authority to operate a vehicle.

Reducing my reliance on public transportation and chauffeurs.

Adversity: Goal one must be met. Testing difficulties.

3) Having a palace of my very own, rather than "borrowing" one.

My evil citadel is something of a time-share at the moment.

Adversity: Goals one and two must be met. Possible need to compensate for increased income requirement by acquiring a room-mate.

It is with these things that I will achieve a state of semi-independence (As expressed in prior entries, I do not wish to be wholly self-reliant. After all, social and emotional reliance on others is essential to a healthy mind. Plus I need minions to do my bidding.) and thus establish a sense of self-confidence that is lacking at best, and ill-placed at worse. Once all three conditions have been met, it is then, and only then, that I will have the confidence to achieve my fourth goal, and the true motivation behind my desire to better myself. After all, with my living situation as it is I can be sustained for many years to come, but it is from this fourth goal that most of my pain and desire arises. This recent revelation has put much in perspective, including the possibility that even after achieving my three primary goals I may not be able to achieve my fourth.

As a stoic and mysterious master of darkness, it is not in my nature to open up about my feelings, but my need to do so has leaked out into this blog, transforming what was once a catalog of my major accomplishments to a series of angst filled declarations of my personal weakness. I should be writing things such as, "BEHOLD! I, the infamous LORD VELTHA, master of narrative, have at last achieved victory over the internet by staking claim over my own territory where I will be granting the droll and trivial masses to bask in the glow of my masterful works of triumph!" or even "After initial YouTube success, my greatest works are now being adapted for syndication by a television network enthralled by my sheer BRILLIANCE, and understand that my ingenious stories could influence future generations to stop watching all of the other bull-dookie that is currently airing on other networks and create a world of fresh and exciting art!" by now instead of this paltry, "I just want to be loved" crap.

My outlets for communication, much like my opportunities for success, are limited by my own unfathomable intellect/neurosis. They exist and can be found everywhere, yet something inside holds me back. There are things I do not openly discuss, yet are frequently pondered upon. Things that have also influenced my need to prove myself to myself, if only to prove to myself that They were wrong. Emotional invalidation is of great concern to me. There are few things I appreciate less than being heard but not felt or understood. I have reason to fear people not getting me, or worse still telling me that what I feel is wrong. I am not a trusting person, and without trusting others then no one can trust me, and thus my fourth and most important goal will never come to fruition because even with fame and fortune under my belt I will still be an asshole. I'm trying though. I am learning to show people I care.

I will continue to fight for now. I have checkpoints established in my timeline. Checkpoints do not reflect the time-limit I have to reach my goals, but operate in a fashion similar to check-points in arcade racing games. In my eternal need to convey my unparalleled perceptual superiority in a fashion the layman can understand, I turn to video game analogies.

In arcade racing games there is a set time limit for how long you are able to compete in the race. Checkpoints set up along the route from point A to point B add seconds to the timer when reached, allowing you to continue on in the hopes of crossing the finish line first. In some games, if you're very fortunate, you can still cross a checkpoint while coasting to a stop and still be awarded additional time to continue. My checkpoints are landmarks in time pertaining to events I feel are worth struggling onwards towards, often pertaining to new releases in entertainment media such as film, video games, or comic books, because experiences through art are often more relevant and achievable life experiences than those in reality. Studies show that actions or media perceived influence the brain. The same neurons in the brain are stimulated when you perform an action as when you're observing someone else performing the same action. (This is where my failure to actually save and catalog information I reference so that I can share it with others comes to bite me. The MLA gods would smite me for such frequent citation offenses.) Art works the same way. By reading Scott Pilgrim... I AM Scott Pilgrim. By playing Sonic The Hedgehog... I AM Sonic The Hedgehog. In fact, the psychology towards my absolute hatred of the werehog levels in Sonic Unleashed is an interesting subject for study. By hating the game I am playing... I am hating MYSELF. Video games are designed to provide the consumer with a sense of accomplishment. Everyone loves to level up. It keeps me going.

Returning to my analogy, if I go too long without reaching a checkpoint I can feel myself start to coast. Checkpoints must be pre-established, and if I do not set one within an acceptable amount of time I begin to succumb to depression, but can convince myself to fight on in the hope that eventually I will discover a new closer checkpoint. Gamers can relate to the sensation of panic as the timer ends mere virtual feet away from a checkpoint, and understand the pain of barely making checkpoint after checkpoint as the timer runs out time and time again, wondering whether you'll make it or if you'll get a game over. It is not a happy sensation in gaming, and it is even less so in reality when your life is on the line.

To stick with car analogies, but for non-gamers; imagine your car breaking down approximately every two minutes on your way to some place important you have to be in exactly an hour, and each time not knowing whether or not the car will start back up. Welcome to life with manic depression and anxiety!

This seems to me like an unnecessarily long post. That's saying something, you know, for me. I must make a sandwich and walk across the horizon. I cannot trust myself to remain stationary today.

Pathos and good will,

Lord Veltha

Lord Veltha VS Stand-up Comedy

Yes, that is correct. I, the Infamous Lord Veltha, Prince of Paradox, Dastardly Deviant of Dis-Illusion, and maker of dangerous cheeses, have joined the likes of great stand-up comedians such as my idol Dr. Victor Von Doom (Orbital death rays don't always work their way into the economy of an Eastern European nation stuck in the middle ages, so you gotta do a little somethin' somethin' on the side. A good dictator understands this.)

This weekend was a great success in an already astounding line up of achievements by yours truly, and was kicked off by a victory over my eternal nemesis, Portland Oregon. This wasn't exactly THE victory over the city that frequently thwarts my desires for a fulfilling life, but I was able to claim high scores for Vampire Savior, Asteroids, and Bust-A-Move at Ground Kontrol if only because the scores are reset daily and nobody plays them. This was quickly followed up by a bacon maple bar at Voodoo Doughnut II and a trip back home to the local soda shop for some entertainment.

For roughly eight months (judging from the hastily browsed "Past Events" section on Facebook. I have no idea or care whether this is an accurate count. I have more important matters to attend to, like embedding stupid videos.) the Hilarious Six have been regaling audiences at Pop Culture every second Saturday of the month with their witticisms and songs. I have only had the pleasure of seeing them once before, and have since been thwarted by Fate in my attempts to not be too busy to come.

The evening contained commentary on viral videos, songs by Steven Lynch, re-dubs of "A Charlie Brown Christmas," and facts about horses I didn't even know could be compared to myself (I too can be measured with a hand, where each hand equals four inches.) Before the commencement of the festivities, I was asked by ally and TAD henchman, Kameron Foster, if I would like to participate on stage. I was also assured by Jason Nguyen that I could not possibly bomb as hard as he had in the past, which was perhaps the best possible ego pandering an overlord could have asked for given Jason's comedic aptitude.

I have since learned that KKK jokes do not go over as well for Vancouver audiences as jokes about masturbation. My leading sociologists are currently reviewing statistics now in order to conclude why exactly this is, but my tentative hypothesis is this: Vancouvians are perverts. The rest of my set involved various social shortcomings I face, including a story of bitter-sweet success from a previous blog posting.

I eventually had to be played off with music like an Oscar winner that simply won't shut up, and they couldn't have done it a moment too soon as I had managed to cover my entire life experience in the span of five minutes. I was rewarded with hugs from the other comedians and a strong burning sensation in my stomach similar to my gastric reaction to karaoke.

Stand-up comedy is the most productive form of self-deprecation, and when it burns it burns good. Time will tell if the infection can be cured.

Lord Veltha Versus The Val Ogden Center

In my quest for hope, belonging, and independence, I was introduced to a facility that literally has these things written on their sign. It couldn't get any more obvious that that's exactly where I need to be.

The Val Ogden Center is a referral only facility for the mentally handicapped run by the recently empowered and mentally handi-capable. Naturally I assumed it would be like Arkham Asylum with the lunatics having taken over, and in this way I was slightly disappointed. However, this Clubhouse provides a very important service to the community that can not be ignored.

Think of the Clubhouse as a social water refinement center. It takes water that, while sullied with all manner of fecal matter and emotional baggage, has the potential to benefit society by providing them with a clean natural resource. The Clubhouse is run by its members, which means all duties pertaining to the maintenance of the Clubhouse is up to them. Essential duties are delegated to volunteers after the morning meeting at 9:00am, and the day is over at 4:30pm. The work is divided into clerical (typing, filing, manning the reception turret), culinary (cooking lunch and washing dishes), and working at the thrift store (imagine if there was a Goodwill in your house, but no one knew it existed and no one shopped there.) The work here provides purpose and guidance to those who would normally be without, and people to playfully distract you while you are trying to accomplish menial tasks. On top of that, the staff is there to assist with career and education goals outside of the Clubhouse as well. Various workshops and meetings are scheduled throughout the week in order to help members achieve their dreams, whatever they may be.

My luxurious sanctum of evil can at times feel like a prison. I live in seclusion from my peers and am frequently left to meditate on important matters of consequence as my only recreation. I have a difficult time reaching out to those lesser beings who populate the world. Simply being in a work environment again has done wonders for me. I have focus, determinations, and a staff of faithful servants willing to facilitate my every need (including freshly baked cookies. I can already sense your jealousy prior to publishing this blog post. It transcends time and space.)

Currently I am attempting to establish a means to attend theatre classes at the local community college so that I may accentuate my already tremendous acting talent with technique training and actual skill. This will also allow me to forge connections in the acting community, stronger bonds with the people I care about as I will be generally closer in proximity to them, and in time I may at last achieve my goals of GLOBAL DOMINATION! (Gwahaha. Mine is an evil laugh.)

Pathos and good will,
Lord Veltha

Lord Veltha is a typhoon of WIN

It's official. I am a tropical cyclone of amateur voice acting success. It's been almost a month since my last post, and in that time I have landed a slew of roles that will surely not become overwhelming in the least.
...
*cough*

Upon being cast in Naruto The Abridged Series Movie (and hookers!) my ego was inflated to beyond healthy proportions and I decided to investigate further roles. The fellow who kindly pointed me in the direction of the "Old Guy" audition mentioned that he was casting for Wild ARMS Abridged.

For those who don't know (namely my parents) an "Abridged Series" is a fan made series of videos often posted on YouTube where anime fans condense thirty minute episodes into eight or ten minutes, often lampshading confusing plot points, making fun of annoying characters, or completely changing a character's personality (or ethnicity, eh?) Often the resulting show becomes almost completely unrecognizable. There are many many bad ones, and even the more popular ones will make you want to lick a cheese grater to get your mind off of the pain, but they are altogether a somewhat humorous display of fandom.

For more information, consult the media entertainment equivalent of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: TV Tropes

After auditioning and receiving praise (and yea, even lending some requested script assistance) I got the role. I didn't know how many of the roles I got until now, but I'll get to that.

It was also from this source I learned of Voice Acting Alliance, which is a resource for amateur voice actors, directors, producers, etc who have all come together with a common goal: be awesome. It was here I decided to bite off more than I can chew, and why I continue to resemble a cow chewing cud.

For the record (and because my own memory is so terrible that I really need to write this crap down somewhere) here is the current list of projects I'm engaged in.

Wild ARMS Abridged (Abridged series based on Wild ARMS: Twilight Venom)
-Sheyanne Rainstorm (High normal voice. I didn't even audition for it! No kidding! I hate my voice...)
-Dr. Kiel Arronax (AKA "Doctor Captain Pirate Mullet". Brock Samson)

Neon Genesis Evangelion: Black Nerv Project (Not sure what the final name is, but it's a parody of Evangelion. From the looks of the script, I don't think they actually shortened it, so I don't think it's "Abridged." Amazing script though.)
-Fuyutsuki (The Old Guy strikes again! Get off my lawn!)
-Male Announcers 1, 2, and 3, helicopter pilots, crew mamber (I haven't gotten a critique yet on my auditions, so I'm not sure what I'm doing here. For these I mostly used variations on my annoying normal voice, and Stu Brawny Johnson. (Think Coach Z from homestarrunner.com))
-Sachiel The Angel (They said "Go nuts!" I went nuts, throwing in every voice I can do. I don't know what one they chose, and may not know until the show is finished because they only needed that one line.)

By the way, they're still looking for actresses.

Mega Man X: Vile (A fan-made RPG based on the Mega Man X series.)
I auditioned for four roles, and didn't get any of them because my voices didn't fit the characters. Luckily, I still got parts.
-Metal Shark Player (Auditioned for Dr. Wily. High-pitched pirate. Yeah, I'm awesome.)
- Mattrex (KROGNOLON! I have to make him sound sly and not stupid though. We'll see how that goes.)

I also get to re-audition for the role of Dynamo after having heard more information, and a clip from another audition. (I think I gotta go somewhere between Brock Samson and my normal voice. Have I mentioned I hate my normal voice? Just recordings though. I can and do talk to myself incessantly.)

That's not a whole lot, right? Sure my social life is suffering, but that's because I've been reclusive and depressed! Now I'll be isolated from the people I care about because of my heavy workload, the way it's SUPPOSED to be. Just in time for the holidays. (That's okay, people can pick up their Snowflake Day presents next month.)

I have a lot of links scattered around in this post. I don't know if they'll transfer over to Facebook or not. If not, then tough luck.

(Quick Rant: I downloaded a Dragonball Raging Blast demo last night. Now, why the HELL would they put out a demo of a FIGHTING GAME and not make it TWO PLAYER? It's RIDICULOUS!)

Pathos and good will,
Lord V.

The Treads on the Battle Tank Keep Spinning

Behold! Episode 1 of The Astonishing Dude (now referred to as TAD for short, 'cause I like that better then AD, and yes these things are important to me and you can't take away my freedom stop trying to control my life leave me alone I'm not hungry I'm going to my room and I'm never coming back OMG sugar rush!) has been completed!

All goes according to plan. As per standard production procedure I worked on that sucker 'til it was time to head out the door and abuse the auditory canals of those fortunate enough to hear our masterwork. Keeping the volume consistent throughout the piece was the biggest difficulty I had. No, finding sound effects was, but the volume came a close second (which reminds me that I need to do some more sound hunting if I'm going to pull off the upcoming commercial breaks. I should delegate this task to someone else. Any volunteers? Who wants to find me a bowling ball, a toaster, an agitated hamster, and an aerosol can full of doughnut batter? Think of it as a scavenger hunt.) The great thing is that no matter how many times I listened to this thing it never got boring. Animation gets old fast. Granted, it takes a hell of a lot longer too. This show though... this show is astonishing through and through. My only disappointment is that we didn't have the recorder going when we did our live cast commentary. Sad day. (I know most of what I said, so I could record my own commentary... but I think blogging is the full extent I'm willing to take my ego. It just wouldn't be the same without my outstanding comrades anyway.)

And Episode 2 is officially underway! Armed with previous experience, our intrepid hero (overlord) ventures not into the unknown wilderness of radio play production, but into the familiar lake of tepid and not on the whole unpleasant work that is exhausting, time consuming, but ultimately rewarding. The challenge this month will be to effectively emulate a panic stricken mob of limbless civilians, an overzealous arena of bloodsport fanatics, learn how to apply voice modulation in order to make my actors sound alien but understandable (I cannot understand most alien voices due to their modulation. The Vogons in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy radio series especially, and most recently Emperor Tachyon's voice in Ratchet & Clank Future: Tools of Destruction.) and play not one but TWO characters that are much too intense for my stomach to handle. I started getting sick during a run through of the script. I should be fine if I have lots of water handy. The show... must... go on... gasp... *MELODRAMATIC DEATH!*

I am also serving as Director Assistant/Script Master/Nagging Asshole in a film production called Nightbumpers. So far I've only screwed up once, if not twice, and all on our first day of shooting! The first error was when I started doing my job before the cinematographers said cut, and the second was when I might have been in the shot when the camera person did a pan of the set for extra coverage. I'm looking forward to the next day of shooting. I've never been a part of something like this. At the art school I was an animator, and wasn't involved in anything that required actual filming. I did write one screenplay and was there for shooting, but I dunno... that was different. I don't get that awkward feeling that I don't belong there though, which is good and quite surprising. I got a little nervous when I had to actually, you know, do my job, but I think that went alright. (I still need a copy of the script. I don't think I can keep hoarding the Director's. I may also bring some blue masking tape and a dry erase marker for the sake of taking blue masking tape and a dry erase marker.)

I'm working on learning to draw. Oddly, whenever I try to draw the way I'm taught I fail. I can't get beyond the two-dimensional wire frame model I've created. It should be a simple matter of cleaning up lines, really no different from my normal process, but something feels wrong. Winging it seems to be providing better and better results. Characters aren't especially detailed, there's no shading, texture, or color to speak of. Hands, feet, and faces continue to be my eternal adversaries. On the positive side, I have two tolerable sketches of myself: the infamous Lord Veltha. Other more pressing matters have taken time away from my pencil practice, but I feel that with the progress I've been making it will only be a few years until I become what artists refer to as "okay."

The world is in my hands. It's only a matter of time.

(And if you haven't already, check out www.imeem.com/astonishingdude for great justice!)

Accomplishment: Still working on it...

Here I am, again, sitting here in an attempt to relay a harrowing tale of my immense success and I've got nothing. This happens on occasion. It's usually a result of hunger, fatigue, or "I had a long day and I'd rather be playing video games or reading comic books." More often then not it's a combination of all three, and today is no exception. The only difference is that usually I post BS like this on LiveJournal where that sort of textureless monologing with no depth to speak of belongs (and I usually spell out bullshit.)

Last week my colorful associates and I met up at the legendary WSU Vancouver and recorded episode one of the soon to be legendary Astonishing Dude. I can't praise them enough. I'm trying though. I'm in the process of editing, and when I hear their lines I rush out of the room and onto FaceBook (I could call them, but then they'd have to get off the computer to answer the phone.) so that I may praise them. After the first two I decided I was making little progress as it was and kept working. I'll be sure to maul them later and suffocate them with praise.

Recording went smoothly. I seem to have given my actors all of the difficult to pronounce words and left all the easy ones to myself. (I'm curious to know how many directors have uttered the phrase, "Let's take it from molecular carbonation.") I was actually surprised at the lack of swearing when it came to line flubs. (I managed to take second place with only "damnit" and "son of a bitch." Actually, maybe I tied for first. The only other person who came close had three damnits. I'm not done editing yet, so maybe there're more lurking about. It could be anyone's game.)

The best part was that the super wonderful station manager, the cunning minx that she is, invited us to see the radio station. She did the exact same thing the last time I was there. First it's "Hey, do you wanna see the station?" and once we're there she slaps some headphones on us, throws us in front of the mics and runs away laughing gleefully over the horison. She's like a person selling kittens.

"Hey, would you like a kitten?"
"No thak you. I'm not interested."
"I bet you are."
"No, really, my mom's allergic. If she even sees one her windpipe swells shut and she can't breathe."
"Would you like to hold one?"
"Um... no..."
"I think one of them is trying to escape."
"What? I don't see..."
"Here, just hold this one while I go after the other."
"Uh... sure. Okay."
"There you go."
"OH MY GOD IT'S ADORABLE!"
"Hmm... seems as though I was mistaken. I could have sworn that..."
"I'LL TAKE TWO!"
"(Sucker)"

I think we may have a two hour time slot on Fridays from 2-4pm (Which can be heard at www.kougradio.com and I think maybe eventually some time soon some other site I don't remember or something. You should listen to it anyway. They play yodeling!) I haven't talked to anyone about it though... so I have no idea what we're doing. Then again, we didn't know what we were doing THEN, so what difference does it make? Maybe we'll read more horoscopes.

I've been keeping fairly busy, but I've made some time for myself. I've only spent 12 hours or so editing episode one, and I'm a bit over ten minutes into the show. Most of the time has been spent online foraging for sound effects. I'm sure once I get all the ones I need future episodes will go a lot quicker. I need to download all the sounds I can find (that work and are of reasonable quality) just to make damn sure I'll have what I need later (especially for the Rube Goldberg Home Kitchen Appliences commercial.)

There are three reasons I haven't spent more time working on this project. 1: I spent the weekend in Snoqualmie. 2: I'm handi-capable and have a rough time with mornings when I don't sleep at night due to the heat. 3: My laptop and external hard drive do not function properly at high temperatures (my laptop completely burnt out once, and today my external hard drive konked out and wouldn't turn back on until I slapped an icepack on it. It's such a diva...)

Now here I am trying to make sense of everything. I don't think I can, and I've given up trying. It seems to have worked out pretty well in my favor. I have four and a third scripts written, so we may only do five shows. This is a killer energy suck. Not that I'm complaining. I get to write and direct, hang out with my friends, and make something that will provide entertainment to dozens. This is exactly what I want. I've got a good thing going and I should follow it 'til the track runs out. Maybe it'll lead me to ways I can accomplish my other goals.

Operation: ASTONISHMENT!

I apologize for the extensive duration of time between my previous post and this one that I am now 36 vowels into (I think... each time I count the number changes. However, as I am infallible, every number I count to is the correct number of vowels that I count. How's that for logic?)

I am in the midst of a delicate operation. If THIS plan succeeds I will be one step closer to being one step closer to commencing my diabolical MASTER plan of global domination. But, before I go any further, I'll go ahead and start with the stuff people may care about (then I will ramble to my heart's content.)

Alright, so... after I learn how to properly operate my shiny new (and free) audio editing software, I will need to assemble some actors. I can record directly to my laptop, so I'll be able to record people at their convenience, and not have to arrange it so everyone has to gather together in one spot at a certain time. I've got a big long list of characters, so here are a few.

The Astonishing Dude: Stalwart defender of justice and title character.
Announcers: Need deep voiced radio announcer for episode intros and such, as well as intense energy-drink spokesperson, infomercial guy, and sweet lady varieties for commercial breaks.
Dr. Hands: Malevolent mustache-twirler and master of hand-to-hand combat. Forced to turn to crime due to the economic recession, and the need to purchase specialized ambidextrous tools.
Wrench Wench: The Astonishing Dude's sultry mechanic and on-again-off again romantic sub-plot (Although I have yet to see it set to "on".) Cursed by a gypsy to speak in innuendo (Which is surprisingly hard for me to write.)
Krognolon: Champion gladiator of Strugglesphere Four. Big brutish alien guy.
Nuboss: Alien pilot from Strugglesphere with the disposition of a frustrated shift manager at Kinkos.
Frigidaire-Devil: Obligatory ice-themed villain.
John Long the Thermal-Man: Equally obligatory fire-themed villain.
Swing Swordsman: 1920-30's inspired fencer. (The bee's knees, baby. Berries.)
The Shroud: Irritatingly mysterious villain. Melodramatic, and nobody really knows what he does, but it's probably evil... or is it?
Mother: Generic loving mother figure for commercials. The more Joan Cleavery the better.
Timmy: Equally generic little boy-type thing.
Little Girls: Blah blah blah...
TB Tabby Doll: Talking doll with tuberculosis. (Made in Taiwan!)
Jingle Singers: People who sing jingles. So far the only jingle I've written is for Dunky Cream Donuts... and I can't get it out of my head...
Incidentals and Background Characters: People just hangin' out and doin' stuff, whether it be exchanging ring tones, cheering wildly at off-world sporting events, or being violently evicerated. Not to mention the obligatory, "Look! Up in the sky!" dialog that should be expected of something like this.

I have, over the course of the first three episodes, at least 32 roles that need to be filled. The first episode alone has 13 characters. Actors will probably have to fill multiple roles, which shouldn't be too hard. Most of the characters are just incidental/background people that have maybe one line of screaming while their arms are getting ripped off. All in all, it sounds like there's more to this than there really is, but it also means I'll need a wide array of talent. Everything from dramatic announcers, to mothers and children, to semi-sinister villains, to demonic alien gladiators. I've even got a brief scene with zombie cows. ZOMBIE COWS!

Initially, phase 1 of this dastardly scheme consisted of writing as many radio scripts as I could manage so that once we begin broadcasting and I have less time to actually prepare nigh-intelligible dialog, there will be one less thing to rush through production. Perhaps I am falling into the old villainous cliche of impatiently reducing the preparation time and jumping right into the cool stuff with explosions and princess-napping, but I feel that the time has come to begin recording the show. I have two scripts completed, and a third underway. If I am to succeed any further I must learn how to utilize my audio editing facilities. Not only that, but recording my actors will bolster their enthusiasm for this project, and global domination is all about making the people happy (I wouldn't want anyone attempting to overthrow me.)

If I do begin recording, it does not need to be broadcast right away. I'm not entirely certain what my time-line is like, but there's no sense in getting started until I'm certain the operation is safe to commence. I'd still like to get a couple more scripts written up before weekly due dates come into play. It's better to learn and make mistakes before you activate the doomsday weapon, otherwise the hero is certain to find his way into your castle and screw with your important shit. The hero in this case, as is the case for most of my schemes, is Murphy. Murphy's Law is the one law I am most eager to break in order to achieve my goals.

If all goes according to plan, and Murphy does not interfere, I should be ready to start recording by the end of next week (Note the emphasis on the should.) My last post was full of defeat and negativity. That shall not happen again. From now on it's only positive upbeat awe-inspiring awesomeness worthy of the infamous Lord Veltha! In fact, I am so confidant that this plan will suceed I think we need to make promotional posters! (All in due time...)

In other, less important Velthan news, I will be heading to the Vancouver Share House office tomorrow to assist with bulk mailing. I have also registered for Kumoricon 2009... and we'll see how that goes.

Pathos and good will.

Accomplishment? Lord Veltha VS KOUG Radio

Today was completely and utterly overwhelming. I'm really not sure what happened. My head isn't throbbing as much since I took those pain killers. This is the result of me trying to push past my limits. I need to stick to merely reaching my limit for a while. This pushing crap is too much. This is like playing Final Fantasy IX and saying, "Okay, I'm gonna fight a Grand Dragon, and then go heal, and then fight another one, since I will be near death after fighting the first." And then getting attacked by a second dragon before you have time to recover... and then you die. It's pretty much like that. To offer a less geeky description, my day pretty much went as depicted in this doodle I was working on in order to focus and maintain a hold on my ever receding sanity.

Phase 1: I got to the WSU conference room plenty early, like an hour or so before the meeting started. I had stumbled around most of the morning: reading magazines, playing video games, etc. I was impatient to get there, so right after my early lunch I procured a shuttle and traversed the cosmos to reach the college. There I found a "Free Speech" board and was tempted to post a message of my own, but decided against it. Now I wish I had gone through with it. Perhaps next time.

Phase 2: After the meeting began and everyone was handed a type of application and "How To" checklist the station manager pulled out her digital recorder and interviewed everyone in the room, asking what they wanted to do for the station and what they wanted the station to do for them. I think I may have mentioned this somewhere else, but when I am in a new environment around new people I do not function properly. My mind cannot fully process everything that is going on. There is a stimulation overload. I simply freeze and observe the situation, determining whether I should run away or bust heads. Complete reptilian brain mode. As has been described in many a scholarly journal: reptiles suck at interviews. It was amazing. It sounded like everyone was reading from a script. Everyone knew exactly what they wanted. I began asking myself why I was there and by the time the microphone came before my face I had completely forgotten about my plans for a radio theater production. I managed to mention something about global domination, and that was that.

Phase 3. During most of the discussion I pretty much zoned out. I tried to pay attention, but most of it consisted of things I really could not follow. I have no idea how a radio station is run, so I suppose it was okay that I had no input. I was able to talk to a man sitting next to me who was also interested in having a radio drama on the station. He mentioned some kind of theater thing... I can't remember what it was... some kind of... reading theater. It's pretty much a live radio show, with no recording. It sounded interesting. I may have to attend and observe as I did with open mic poetry night. I followed along as best I could, but as I said, I had no input.

Phase 4. It was at this point where things made a turn for the worse. After sitting like a deer in headlights for a couple hours my emotions were running high. I wasn't really doing anything, and yet I was having lots of trouble with not screaming. Those who required training were asked to head to the station. I am not a student at WSU, and am not familiar with the campus. I followed some people who I thought were heading in that direction, but were instead going to the student commons. I tried to wait for someone to show me where to go, but after a few minutes I was unable to remain in the building. I scurried off to a bench by the water and engaged in a very un-overlordly display of emotions. I formed a plan in my head regarding locating the station and decided to wait until I calmed down to begin my investigations. The girl I had been waiting for then found me, concerned that I had wandered off, as I am prone to doing, and then lead me to the station. She kept me distracted and focused, but then she, and the station manager, began giving me tips on overcoming nervousness.

I did like the the expression the manager used; something along the line of, "Nervousness is just morbid excitement." but it's funny how someone trying to be helpful can also be insulting though. It is strange how angry I get when people try to help me cope with my anxiety. I feel misunderstood, like they really don't know what's going on with me. It's just something to be observant of. I'm trying to pay attention to what things affect me in what ways and how (That makes sense, right?) There was nothing to be offended about, and yet I was. It's just odd. It's like they were treating it like it wasn't a big deal. But then, why is it I make such a big deal about my anxiety? I thought about this more later. "I am not under attack. My life is not being threatened. Yet I am completely and utterly terrified."

The training was simple enough, though I can't remember how to run the Simian. Everything else I'm pretty sure I remember, but I can't remember how to operate the computer where all the music and play lists are stored. That's kind of a big deal in radio. It was then the manager remembered some kind of appointment she had and left the girl and I to keep things going in her absence.

Phase 5. I should never under any circumstance make a phone call when I'm agitated. Never! It's one thing to call someone because I'm freaked out, but I must have a certain amount of composure so that I may properly communicate. Communication is my biggest challenge. Even when I am able to talk and explain things I am rarely understood. Awareness of my faults is key. If I know there is a problem then I may be able to find a solution. Maybe next time things will go better. In this case I called to say that I was gonna be on the radio. I was so freaked out and hurried that I didn't explain how to listen to the station (which can be streamed at www.kougradio.com) and that I didn't actually need anything, I was just calling to relay information.

So when it all began, I sat and watched. This was easy enough. During the music the girl asked me to tell her something about myself. I will not enjoy job interviews, if ever I am given the opportunity to actually engage in one. I must come up with a response to this query. It is absolutely vital in regards to all social engagements that I am able to talk about myself. When I get started talking about things I am passionate about, I can't shut up. When I am given a broad topic though, such as myself, then I am at a complete loss. Then she asked me questions I really don't like answering because they greatly reduce my self-esteem. "Do you work?" "Do you go to school?" "Why don't you go to school?" "Do you drive?" "Do you have a girlfriend?" "Have you ever had a girlfriend?" I'm glad "Have you ever considered killing yourself?" didn't come up. That's always an awkward question in an interview... and one I will be sure to ask when interviewing prospective henchmen. I couldn't even answer what I do for fun. That's such an easy question! I have no obligations, so everything I do is something I do for fun! I read, I write, I play video games, I study comic books, I doodle, I take pictures of my stuffed animals in public... but none of this came to mind. I was still trapped in the headlights. She even asked me if I had ever gotten drunk. I explained that I had no intention of ever drinking. I am something of a control freak, but I understand that there is absolutely nothing in this world that is under my control. The only thing I can at least try to maintain is my perception of reality, and even that will be lost to me some day.

Eventually my courage came back. Now, this is an important thing for me to remember. This is a fundamental part of who I am, and how I interact with the world around me: I cannot multi task.
I. Can. Not.
I can search for music to play. I can provide useless banter between songs. I can not do both at once. When I have a play list ready to go and all I have to do is flip the mic on and off, and flip the source on and off, then I will be at ease. I know this. Since I could not, I did not, and I failed. After that stammering embarrassment I had to leave. It's a good thing that when I do my show it will be pre-recorded, and won't involve DJing.

Phase 6. There was much screaming and crying at the bus stop. There was also some physical abuse to inanimate objects and I would like to take the time to apologize to that poor trash can. You did not deserve such treatment. I paced and sang and talked out loud. The more I talk the less I think, and the less I think the better I feel... so... eat beans for every meal? I decided to reward my efforts by going to WalMart and playing the XBox 360 demo of Sonic Unleashed. I can easily go on for another few paragraphs about my opinion of that game, but now is not the time. Then I walked home.

I'm completely exhausted. I couldn't maintain my focus long enough to tell Mom about what happened today. I also knew if I tried that I would completely lose it. Every few minutes I remember something about the day and start freaking out, but I'm able to calm myself down. It may take a few days to recover. I don't know whether to classify today as a success or a failure. I did many things today that I certainly would not have done a year ago, or even a few months ago. I was able to stick with something... virtually all the way through. I said "Yes" when I could easily have said "No" and spared myself the pain, and experience. I feel like crap, and probably shortened my lifespan a little more from all the stress, but any battle you can walk away from is a victory... and here I am.

Maybe today was a good day after all.

Accomplishment: ANIMATION!

At long last my animation project, "What Are You Waiting For?" has been completed! Rejoice in the glory of Lord Veltha!

Okay... maybe it's not... technically... done yet, but it is virtually done. Even as we speak my computer is in the midst of the ever important rendering process, which seems to take about two hours for every minute of film. I must also find a way to get a copy to my producer for approval and organize a premiere party at the lair. Oh, the partying that shall ensue.

Three years ago I graduated from High School. After a brief college enrollment where I learned that really wide rolling backpacks are incredibly ill-designed, how to insert headers in Microsoft Word, how to grow efficiantly despise vector imaging programs (I made my fancy logo in college as a school project dealing with advertising. While other students were promoting products and bands I was developing my image as an evil overlord. Yes, I am awesome.), and that Portland is a horrible horrible place to go to school when you have to bus everywhere, I began working on a project entitled "Ninja Among Us" (a public service announcement that explained the encroaching ninja threat and how to defend yourself. This was back when the Ninja VS Pirates craze was at its peak.) Not long into that I was approached by my animation pimp who got an email from a friend who got an email from a friend about a guy from New York who was looking for a stick figure animator to... animate stick figures... and insert them into one of his old films. I was given the job and I've been working on it almost ever since.

This thing has been taking forever! When I started out I alternated days similar to how my High School schedule was organized. Monday and Wednesday I would write comics, Tuesday and Thursday I would animate, and Friday I would work on my novel. This continued on for a year or so. I was fortunate enough to be allowed sanction in my neighbor's house. They allowed me to use one of their spare rooms to set up my stuff. While I was thankful for this opportunity to have my own little studio, that was really the only place I went. Back and forth through the neighborhood every day. I had nowhere else to go and nobody to talk to. The isolation took its toll. When I finished drawing I was so terrified of the project that I refused to resume work on it. Even when I was allowed to use the animation equipment at my former High School there were several times I wanted to quit. I was watching my work in motion for the first time and did not like seeing how all those months of emotional labor amounted to total crap. Most of my fear stemmed from the knowledge that I would have to go back and re-animate certain scenes, and I had associated many horrible emotions with that activity. It wasn't until I began editing against the original film that I felt things were coming together. I did go back to the drawing board, as they say, and for the first two days it was okay and I laughed at my fears of becoming lost to extreme negativity. By the third day I had no patience for anything and had to keep myself from biting people's faces off.

But it's totally okay now! Now I am done. Now I am driven to ensure that such an experience never befalls me again. I have friends, I have goals, I have passions. I am pushing myself harder than I've ever thought possible to overcome my anxiety and break the cycle of despair. Global domination is at hand! With this animation completed I can focus on other projects what will hopefully allow for collaboration with others. I can start writing again! I would like to focus on my novel, but I am most interested in collaborating with people to produce comic books and short live action films. Tomorrow I get to attend a meeting at the radio station and discuss radio matters... with actual people!

I think most of the meeting will pertain to organizational matters, but I will be introduced to people who are interested in producing a radio drama. I've already emailed the new station manager a couple proposals that I think should be fairly easy to work on. When we find our stride we can pursue stories with more... I dunno... "scope." I'm interested in hearing other ideas. I would be more than happy to do grunt work at the station and provide voice talent. This is a great opportunity for shameless self-promotion since one of the goals of the studio is to make Vancouver more awesome by uniting artists. The station itself is volunteer work, but it is fun volunteer work! This is what I want to do. I may not be the most organized person, but I am committed.

When the animation is, for all intents and purposes, DONE, I must find a way to post it here. I don't want to bother with film festivals. I really don't. If Mr. Guy-In-New-York wants to do that stuff then great. It would be nice to see something done with all of this work, but I am more than happy to see it go away. I must work to accomplish my next mission, whatever that may be.

Pathos and Good Will.

Accomplishment: Lord Veltha VS Karaoke

Crap

CRAP!

Holy mother of the all-knowing ever loving feces boutique of the cosmos!

My stomach hurts. I'm not sure if it's nerves or the pizza and chocolate chip cookie (Pizza... and A chocolate chip cookie. Not a pizza flavored dessert with chocolate chips, I'm sorry to say.) I've had pizza several times recently, but I usually don't ingest sugar because it gives me an adverse reaction. I'm not sure if this is from eating one cookie though. It seems like one of those "big picture" intestinal distresses.

I need to lie down.

I went to karaoke. Second time in a bar, second time drinking only water (I swear, but who knows what they put in it?) and first time getting up and singing in front of a small group of staggering, swearing, strangers. The first thing to come to my attention was the dim lighting. I suppose it's bad enough hearing people sing. Who would want to look at them? It must be a measure to prevent embarrassment. I would have thought the alcohol was enough, but perhaps they get sober smart-asses like me in there that are only present to take advantage of the wonderful mono sound system.

Once I started flipping through the song books I was pleasantly surprised to find songs I actually know. There's quite a selection in there. Everything from TV Themes (Brady Bunch, Spider-Man, Etc) to musicals (Rocky Horror, West Side Story, Etc.) The book that lists songs by title appears to be twice as thick as the volume that lists songs by artist, but why not? It's their bar. Who am I to judge? Maybe when I take over the world I'll have them update their song binders. I started filling out cards each time I came to a song I knew, more to keep track of things than to compile a set list, but I ended up singing three songs. I left before the fourth came up due to the aforementioned stomach issues. I have heard cliched descriptions regarding the knocking together of knees, but until last night it had never happened to me. I'm a fan of verticality when before people. Plus I am allergic to pain, and falling down would have made me break out in a big purple rash. Terribly embarrassing. In all, I really do think that perhaps it was nerves that unsettled me.

The first song I sang was Boy Named Sue by Johnny Cash. Everyone else was singing country, and I hate to stand out in an unfamiliar environment... right away. From then on I was addressed by the nickname "Sue," and if anyone happens to recognize me I will likely continue to be. I'll probably be remembered since I'm possibly the first person under the age of menopause to take the stage in quite some time.

Second came Falling For the First Time by Barenaked Ladies, and as usual I sung it too high. I break out of key at the end of each verse. This is nothing to worry about as karaoke is traditionally sung out of key until the chorus, if that. That's the great thing about karaoke: there's nothing to be embarrassed about when it comes to singing; just being there in the first place.

Third was my personal favorite. I had planned to sing it at the Senior Showcase back in high school, and despite my inability to attend I learned it and learned it well. I dare say a woman was moved to tears by my powerful performance of One More Minute by Weird Al Yankovic. I had planned on leaving after that because my stomach was acting up, and while vomiting in a bar may be common it is not something I feel someone of my overlordly stature should indulge in. I was talked into doing one more, and signed up to do Poisoning Pigeons in the Park by Tom Lehrer (Seriously! It was right there! I almost cried when I saw it.) but was called away by nagging pain and the threat of violently retching. I did much better once I arrived back home. Powdery pink pills and hot baths help a lot.

Today was also garage sale day. I firmly believe my chalk drawing advertisements boosted sales. I should add that to my resume for when I apply for more jobs. I must obtain a job so that I my finance my Velthan Battle Cruiser, or whatever title I decide to give my vehicle in the spur of the moment.

For now... whatever.

Pathos and good will.

Lord Veltha's First First Friday

The soon to be infamous Lord Veltha has had a grand and eventful day indeed. And what do we do afterwards? Why, we come home and blog about it for the benefit of all those poor souls who were unable to experience our uber keenness first hand! (Where is the umlaut button on the keyboard? When I take over the world...)

First and foremost, we got out of the house and had a great conversation about things we are most passionate about... which amounts to mostly nonsense from an outside observer's perspective. I enjoy conversations with people who understand the great things about the fictional world. I like sticking to what makes sense to me. I'm uncomfortable when I feel stupid, and as an overlord it is imperative that I maintain an air of superiority. I am, as the hip kids say, "All that and a bag of chips." (When is the last time you've ever heard anyone say that? Where does crap like that come from, and more importantly where does it go? I'm sure there's a huge refuse repository devoted to defunct slang and expressions. It's probably on the internet where the rest of the trash goes (present blog excluded... and all the blogs I'm following 'cause you're all cool too, I promise.)) I think there are more promising adventures to be had on the horizon, and I am certainly looking forward to them.

I also had a conversation later about the wonders of hemp. When I take over the world I will find a way for it to be legalized. There's so much it's good for. Ethanol fuel, clothing, construction materials; and it grows like a friggin' weed, unlike trees, which grow like... trees. Besides, people don't really need and excuse to be lazy and hungry all the time as it is, so I see no harm. There was some other political banter that I have completely forgotten, and I apologize for that. I don't relate to "reality" and "important issues" as much as someone who corporeally belongs to the physical universe should. That's why I will hire people to care for me. I'm usually good at listening and either agreeing or disagreeing with what people say, but I can never for the life of me remember what we were talking about or why I agreed/disagreed in the first place. I'd make a great politician.

I also went to pretty much the best toy store ever. I want to work at Kazoodles. Since they're full up at the moment I may have to check back in after the summer when college kids go back to school. I'm so enthusiastic about their products though that I would be perfect. I love that they're trusting enough that they will allow me to ride around on one of their little wiggly scooter things... whatever they're called. They're wiggle powered! Granted, it takes more effort to power that than walking at half-speed, but that's probably because they didn't have the special attachment that allows my knees to not be in my ears. Steering will take experience.

I have also discovered that the first Friday of every month, starting this very day, is the First Friday Art Walk. Walking and art are two of my favorite things, and they have found a way to combine the two using some secret alchemical bonding process. It was also here that I used my influence as an overlord to assist in aiding a talented young singer in getting over her stage fright. I probably wasn't necessary. She had all the support in the world from her accompaniment. It was definitely something to see. Other unique attractions included witnessing my very first duprass (I may have seen several in my life time, but only now do I know the word for it. Knowing something exists makes it much easier to recognize.) and what may or may not have been a doppelganger. I have heard reports of someone toting my impressive visage, but I have been fortunate enough to have never laid eyes on my shadow-self. I've also never mistaken someone for someone else either. Then again, I'm usually too embarrassed to ask. Ha! I am embarrassed no more! Lord Veltha has complete confidence in himself (unless I'm around people who are taller, smarter, or prettier than I. Certain smartness and prettiness I can handle, but some is too much to bare. Tall people are pretty much universally uncomfortable to be around since I'm not used to having to look up at people... or even be eye level. Teachers and authority figures are an exception.)

So... that's it. It was actually a much longer and more exciting day than it sounds.

Accomplishments

• Successfully completed arranged conversation.
• Successfully completed impromptu conversation
• Rode around on awesome stuff at a toy store
• Attended super keen art walk thing
• Purchased Mother's Day gift (which I mustn't forget about.)
• Encouraged awesome musicians
• Made a stupid list of things I think I maybe accomplished in a vain attempt to make life sound more impressive

So, there's that. I had intended to attend the Portland Saturday Market water front grand opening tomorrow, but it's supposed to rain. I will not go to Portland in the rain. It'll be hard enough trying to make my way to and through the city as it is. I will not be haunted by that wet dog smell. My past is best forgotten. *Mysterious Angst* Besides, tomorrow is FREE COMIC BOOK DAY! I'm gonna get me my very own copy of Mirage Studios Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #1! It's so terrifically satirical of the comics from that period. Nothing like the campy (but still eerily wonderful) cartoon series from the 80's. Tomorrow is also the writer's mixer at Cover To Cover Books. They haven't updated their website, so I don't know what the topic will be this week. I know there's one coming up about writing compelling villains. I'm very interested in what they have to say.

I need a sandwich. I haven't eaten anything today save for a granola bar and some antacids.

Post Script: I have a hold on "How To Win Friends and Influence People" at the library, and it just came in. I should have picked it up and walked around reading it. What was I thinking?

Accomplishment: Art Gallery!

I spoot you not. Someone thought it would be a good idea to put my drawings up in a gallery. Please, collect the remnants of your blown mind and continue with me down the path of "What the crap were they thinking?"

Okay, first and foremost, this isn't really an "art gallery" per say, but more of a... nut house. Not that the people going there are nuts. No sir. I'm not saying that. People going there are going to get help. That's why I'm going there, and I'm not nuts. I'm totally sane. Actually, my therapist there seems to think I'm good to go off on my own, but I'm still not sure what to do with myself now that I'm, for all intents and purposes, "better," "stable," "cured," or "no longer going around kicking puppies to make myself feel better about my problems." (At least I'm not a tiny dog that just got kicked for no good reason. I mean, that would suck. I'm a pretty lucky guy.)

(I must remember to put an easy-to-reference disclaimer somewhere that will tell people stumbling upon this blog that I am not serious about the puppy kicking or calling children "meat bags." I'm aware that sarcasm doesn't travel well over the internet. Although, adding a disclaimer might kill any and all evil overlord credibility I've acquired over the however-long-I've-been-trying-to-be-an-overlord period. Hurm...)

The gallery is for some big-wig dinner, meeting, thing... I don't know. I lost the flier. It's somethin' about people comin' in for some reason, and the place needed to prove that they were doing something worthwhile by having their patients produce art about how awesome they are. The algebraic equation describing why this is a big deal for me goes a little somethin' like this:

Recognition for Talent + Self-Indulgent Artist's Statement Where I Explain Why I'm Awesome + Small Commission = A Very Happy Narcissistic Overlord Slowly Making His Way in the World + A little Bank for Little to no Effort

You can try to simplify it if you're a nerd (I tried, but I don't think this has anything to do with math so I failed.) What it really amounts to is awesomeness, and that's pretty much what I'm tryin' to go for here. What's even better: since I framed the piece and the required artist statement together they decided it qualified for a bigger check. I just gave them what they asked for and they decided to pay me twice what I deserve. On top of that they read a copy of that children's book I mentioned back in episode whatever and decided to add that to their little show and are willing to pay me for that too. I'm getting paid to do crap I normally do just for the heck of it! This is the way it should be. I should be awesome, and people should reward me for that awesomeness! I'd probably have to do a little more than make little black and white doodles, but... you know... I'm still cool. (*whimper*)

I mean, it'd be great if I could actually support myself just by being me. That's kinda the overall goal here. It'll take a lot more than a gallery show at a mental health center to help me reach that goal, but it's a start. The real goal is to find a way to pool my greatness with others so that it congeals together in a big pool of extra-greatness. In other words: combine work and social life. Ah, which reminds me that I have a screenplay writing program thing now. One of my evil plots for over the summer is to produce a short film that will hopefully give other awesome people a reason to play with me assuming they have nothing better to do. I'm too much of a coward to just say, "Hey, hang out with me!" but if I have something I want to do that actually requires other people to help me out with then I'll have more incentive to get over my neurosis. (It's funny how my mind works. Anything worth doing is worth complicating beyond reason.)

The radio station thing still hasn't contacted me. It's been suggested that I just waltz on in and introduce myself. That sounds pretty good since they haven't been returning my emails. What's the worst that could happen? I still think that getting this radio gig, be it DJ, sound engineer, gorilla reporter, or gopher, would be the best thing that has the highest potential of actually happening.

What else we got? Oh, hey, check this out. This is the thing I submitted.

Artist's Statement: "In overcoming my depression and anxiety, change is one of the most difficult obstacles I face. As I recover it becomes challenging to deal with my new capabilities. There are times I grow anxious simply because the familiar feeling of anxiety that has been with me for years is no longer present. When I walk into a noisy crowded room I am no longer overcome with fear. My body doesn’t tense up, my breath doesn’t hasten, my mind doesn’t reel, and I don’t know how to deal with being okay. I do not yet understand how to be normal.
Since coming off of my medication and learning how to self-regulate my emotions I have drive, ambition, desire, and hope; all things I’ve never had before. It’s overwhelming. I’m compelled to change, and often I feel as if changes aren’t happening fast enough. I know I’m capable of so much more. Suddenly there’s a need to make up for lost time. I need to make friends, get a job, get a car, move into a place of my own, push myself to my limits. I want to escape from the anxiety and depression that has become so normal to me. I’m afraid if I don’t keep pushing myself, or if I stop to take a break, everything will come back. It’s a nightmare."

Blah blah blah angst.
But angst I'm getting paid for is way better than the regular kind. Everything will be okay, but I gotta go before my grammar totally falls apart on me. Just havin' a few issues here an' there with sentence structure. No big deal. It adds character.

Triple Accomplishment Super Thursday!

Today worked out great. I accomplished something today that's been nagging me for what seems like years, and possibly has been. The fact that I managed to circumvent my usual tedious thought process that invariably results in me chickening out and pouting about how much of a coward I am and instead do the un... well not really the un-thinkable, 'cause I've thought about it, but that's more or less the point. The fact is I actually did it rather than just think about it. This is an amazing feat of super greatness that goes beyond my normal capabilities. If I can continue down this path it will change who I am as a person for the better, and make all of the trials to come that much easier. It's a stunning example of my newfound perseverance and tenacity.

But first I rescued a dog.

It was a round little chihuahua by name of Gizmo. It was wandering around claiming the neighborhood as his own and I made him nervous enough with my menacing countenance that he eventually ambled home. Then he ambled through the bushes and around his home. I eventually managed to cut off his escape route and deliver him to his girl across the fence. Just another day in the life of an Evil Overlord.

Next up I went to work on my animation, 'cause I'm an animator and that's what animators do: they work. I'm about ready to edit and hopefully fix as many mistakes as I can so I don't have to re-animate everything by hand. It's always reassuring listening to DVD commentary and hearing producers complain about how bad the animation was on certain episodes they got shipped back from Korea, and how they managed to fix everything in the edit. Which reminds me: I need a Korean workforce. Maybe I can find one on Craig's List.

I couldn't edit today for technical reasons (I'm an ill-prepared idiot) and decided to proceed to Cover To Cover Books where I was to face off against the beatnik hippie open mic poetry readers of DOOM when something unexpected happened. (I'm a pretty simple-minded person. Gravity is unexpected.)

Something happens when I see certain strangers. They stand out, like there's an eerie glow about them. It's kind of like how in the animated series Batman Beyond (Ironically intended for a younger audience than the original Batman: TAS, but is way more mature in my opinion... despite the laser guns) all of the background characters are painted in the same color scheme so that the main characters pop out more by contrast. Some people don't blend in like other people do, and it's not because of the way they're dressed. Something in the back of my mind urges me to talk to these people, but I never do. I get shy and self-conscious, so I walk away. Then there's the guilt and shame over how I don't take an active role in pursuing my happiness and blah blah blah angst. Today wasn't much different, with the exception that I was awesome. By "awesome," I mean fatalistically sarcastic with myself.

Whatever happens is the only thing that could possibly happen, and I have no control over it, so why panic? What's the worst that could happen?

"What's the worst that could happen?" is a favorite game of mine, and one that should only be played in good humor. Usually when I play it goes something like, "If I do this, then tornadoes will come down and send giant turtles hurtling though the air like comets, cracking the planet in half and causing gravity to pull the fragments inside out. So, basically I have nothing to be embarrassed about, 'cause if that were to happen I wouldn't be around long enough to feel embarrassed." It's not the most logical conclusion, but it gets the job done. It manages to break the will-I-won't-I cycle that involves me pacing back and forth, growing courageous, turning around and wussing out, telling myself not to be a coward, telling myself it's too scary, and just giving up. This time I managed to actually talk to the glowing person. I was slightly more articulate than a drunk with a mouth full of wasabi. Only slightly.

I used this line to initiate the conversation: "Hello, I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm trying some exposure therapy. I'm not used to talking to people, and I thought I'd try talking to you."

I shit you not, good sir. I am the smoothest cat in the 'couve. Next I'm gonna walk into a bar, find a hot girl at the counter and say, "Hey, do you drink glow-sticks... 'cause you're really pretty," in my best mouth-breather stalker voice.

Regardless of how stupid I must have sounded they were very nice to me. I'd like to thank them for putting up with my social awkwardness, but I never got their name. Thanks anyway. It meant a lot to me. Maybe now it'll be easier to talk to strangers with "the glow." I just need a much better way to begin a conversation. It's hard, 'cause most people are perfectly content in their day-to-day lives. They have their circles of friends and family. They don't need me. The only way I can meet people is if I actively try to engage their attention. What better way than to say, "Hey, we're going to have a conversation now," you know? Subtle suggestion that I would like to talk doesn't seem to work on people.

I have to keep reminding myself that this is supposed to be the optimistic blog and I'm not allowed to badmouth my ineptitude. I just need experience. Then maybe I'll learn that all I need to do to hold a conversation is ask small-talky meaningless questions and hope they don't think I'm creepy and nosy. (I can't win.)

I still had three hours to kill before the open mic started. The website said it began after closing. I didn't read where it said an hour after closing. I walked to the library, wasted time, whatever. When the doors opened up I came in and sat around. Actually, I started writing about my experience out of boredom since I had already been sitting around doing nothing for long enough Dad's giant saguaro cactus might have blossomed. Feel free to skip this crap. It's only here 'cause I feel like wasting more time.

"So, I'm here. Sitting in the most uncomfortable chair I can find. The room is empty. No reason I should sit here. Maybe I won't. It's funny how my thoughts finish seconds before I write them. Can't do anything 'til I write everything down, even find a more comfortable chair. Maybe if I moved to a more comfortable chair I wouldn't have gone back to writing about the uncomfortable chair. Perhaps I would have. We'll never know. I now sit in the second most comfortable chair. How would I know that? I've only sat in one other chair. There's a chair that looks like it could possibly be more comfortable. It's sitting in the back row right in the center of the aisle. I'd be too embarrassed to sit in the middle of the room. Not sure why. The room is empty. The vacancies would mock me. I'll never know. There are people in the room. They've been there for about seven sentences. Funny how that works. Writing about emptiness as the vacuum is filling. I write too slow. My hands are cold. I've been outside since 4:30. I talked to a stranger. Go me. Then there was the library and here I am. So... here I am. I'm still here. Why was I here so early? My firewire, or lack thereof. Can't work without a firewire. I also thought the mic opened at six. How did I come across that assumption? Lack of observation. I thought the website said after closing, and I assumed that meant right after closing. I have a habit of doing that. I think so. I can't think of when I've made that mistake before. That means either I've never made that mistake before or I have no memory of it. However, if I've never made that mistake that would also explain why I have no memory of it. It doesn't necessarily mean I have a poor memory. So, here I am. Head count: 18 heads. There are more. Some heads are hidden behind others. Some are behind the wall. I see no heads lost and rolling on the floor. That would be unfortunate. Ah, here we are. It begins."

There was some good stuff. There was a song I really liked. When the musician kept forgetting the words it actually improved the quality of the song. No, I mean it. Not in a bad way like his singing was crap, but I mean, with the whole, I dunno, subject, I guess, it, um... worked. The guest reader had an awesome two-minute speed poem too. I'd like a copy of that. Over all it probably would have been a better experience if I wasn't all brain-dead and tired.

Speaking of which, it's stupid late. I gotta get me some beauty sleep. Maybe I could take a more passive approach to meeting people if I were prettier.

Accomplishment: Lord Veltha VS Children Round 1!

O sing me O muse a tail of woe
Of chaos aplenty a short time ago

"ARRRRRRG!"

...

Thank you muse. The Muse ladies and gentlemen. Thanks for coming. Hope you enjoyed the blog. Drive home safely. Don't pick up passengers unless they're carrying a towel. Always use a condom. Good night.

So we, being the benevolent future overlord that we are, who refer to ourselves in the "We Tense" from time to time, agreed to volunteer our time at a place for a thing. The place was a shelter style place. The thing was a reading style thing. What could possibly go wrong?

Well... nothing. Everything happened as it did because it happened as it should, or something. We got there, introduced ourselves, sat down, and then one of the little children type things asked to sit on our royal lap as we read. Seems like just a short time ago our personal space took up most of the globe and we were resentful of everyone invading it. Oh how the mighty have fallen, scraped their knee, looked up, and said, "That was a stupid thing to do. I should have listened to my mother." We even surprised ourselves when we gave a positive reply. Imagine us allowing a strange grubby little meat bag to sit on our lap. (Nobody is taking what I write seriously, right? Quick show of hands. Okay. Good. Just checking.) We think it was fear that drove our decisions. They were restless and we didn't wish to provoke them.

The first story went fairly well. It was a little book called "Click Clack Moo: Cows That Type," about a rebel band of bovines that send regular letters to the editor and refuse to produce when their demands for comfort are not met. There was audience participation. Life was good.

You'll have to forgive us if we do not relay the facts as they have happened. One of our frequent struggles is between ourselves and our memory, and our memory keeps forgetting when we're supposed to meet and resume the epic battle. I seem to recall there being arguments about what book to read next. The "This one next." "You picked the last one!" "I want to read this one!" "Can I read?" "No, I get to read next!" "Let him read!" "Put down that gun!" "Make me!" "Can I have another cookie?" variety. There's an unwritten rule among children that when someone new shows up everyone has to act up and misbehave. This is fine. We tried to continue reading, but eventually we did what we usually do when we realize we have no control over a situation.

We broke into song.

It got them to be quiet. As it turns out, even the most attention deficit child has to sit down and pay attention to the lyrics of "I'm My Own Grandpa" so they don't miss anything. Once the song ended the babel resumed. One girl attempted to keep the peace by instituting the Quiet Game, but then the kids started arguing about the rules.

Take your time with that. Don't let any of the irony escape.

If we recall correctly, we attempted to take control by bellowing, in our most booming overlord tone, something along the lines of, if I'm not mistaken, "Cease and desist at once! Silence your faces!" When one of the children attempted to protest I pointed a dramatic finger towards them and ordered, "You! You have a face! Silence it!"

I needed to take control. Most of the children were starved for attention. They did not have the attention for stories. Everyone wanted to talk at once. The best thing I could think of at the time was to play a game. Hodge Podge was probably not the best choice for this group of youngsters, but it came to mind and I needed to be an overlord. Sometimes it's best to just crush the opposition with an iron fist and figure out a better plan once you've scraped them off of your metal gauntlet. In order to play Hodge Podge, the participants need to sit in a circle. Squabbling over chairs commenced. Afterwards I attempted to explain the rules, which probably didn't get through to them and again they couldn't stop talking long enough to play it. They decided "Don't Don't Don't" was a better game.

"Don't Don't Don't" is a game every child knows. People are divided into two teams: The Moderator and everyone else. I played the part of The Moderator, which is the role the oldest in the group tends to play. The object of the game is to keep it going as long as possible by distracting The Moderator and keeping them from realizing the only way to end the game is to realize it's a game and end it. Typically, the longer the game goes the louder and more violently it ends due to the build-up of The Moderator's frustration. By the nature of the game it is easier to play when there are more than two people. The game is played when one person does something they are not supposed to, to which The Moderator responds, "Don't." Then the next player attempts to break the same rule thing or something similar to the rule the first player was trying to break, to which The Moderator replies, "Don't." The cycle continues. Each player takes a turn frustrating The Moderator and then they repeat. We played this game with three kids. We managed to break the cycle after the second round began. "Don't Don't Don't" is a game nobody wins.

Now, here's a funny thing. Before we left we had enough time to read a children's book we wrote some time in high school. They were interested. It's... weird. We mean, they started talking while we were reading it, but we still had their attention. They were discussing ways the limbless protagonist, a robot snake, could play basketball. (I wrote this for a specific kid. "What are the coolest things in the world?" "Snakes, robots, and basketball." "... okie doke.") It was the most attentive they had been all day; even more than when we were reading Click Clack Moo. We don't know why that strikes me as odd, but it does. Then we left 'cause it was time to go. That's pretty logical.

We think we're goin' back. They'll be easier to deal with once we become regulars. We think they'll be easier to deal with if we can play with them rather than try to keep them quiet and still.

The muse is hungry. We better go feed it.

Stay tuned for our next thrilling adventure: Lord Veltha VS The Hippie Beatnik Open Mic Poetry Readers...
OF DOOM!

Accomplishment: Listening to people talk in a tiny crowded book store!

While I was researching the radio station I intend to volunteer my time at I listened to a podcast about a local bookstore downtown called Cover To Cover Books that hosts an open mic poetry night every second Thursday of the month. I don't consider myself a fan of poetry, unless you count poetry in foreign languages that I try to read as English and see what happens, 'cause that's fun. I need places to go in order to get out of the house. I've lived here my whole life and I have no idea what the hell is going on outside of my personal basket (The personal bubble was too confining, so I gave it up in favor of something that actually allowed be to breathe.) So I intend on going. It's this upcoming Thursday. I'll sit and look cute. Maybe I'll meet people I can play with. We'll see.

Turns out they've got other things goin' on, including a writer's mixer every first Saturday of the month (I'm not used to seeing annual events listed like that. I expect to look on their website and see something scheduled for the next full moon.) Every month they have a local guest artist come in and talk about... writing. Today they had a guy named Edward Muller (I discovered the link button. Have you noticed? I bet you didn't. I know who you are. You're not that observant. You're also doing that neurotic thing you do when you sit still at the computer too long. You know what I'm talking about. Stop it.) He basically talked about the sort of neurotic thing that I am always interested in learning: formatting.

Every medium has a different format. Screenplays are different than radio plays, which are different than comic scripts, which are different from cook books, which are different from erotic How-To books (I'm well versed in two of the above. Can you guess which?) and as it turns out manuscripts are a bit different too. Some of the details are identical to the way that writing contest thingy I submitted to had me do it. It doesn't sound like it's entirely necessary, but neither is wearing pants to a corner store. It's just something you do out of courtesy (although if you have really great legs...) I'm neurotic. I like to do things "the right way," as they say. There was also some other stuff about cover letters, dealing with rejection (I plan on using rejection letters I get for papier-mache) and managing what work you've sent to what editor. It seems like there's another mixer in a couple months that talks about how to write compelling villains. I think I need this, because my villains are much too likable. I don't know how to write a character someone could actually hate... intentionally. Hopefully the Cover To Cover folks update their website soon.

I also bought a neat book. One For The Morning Glory by John Barnes. It caught my eye. Then I read the beginning and I was compelled to buy it. I'm trying to follow my compulsions, which is what brought me to the book store to begin with. I don't know when I'll read it. I still have Cat's Cradle on loan from the library to finish up. I don't think I'll get around to Paradise Lost, which is a shame 'cause it's the funniest book ever (Yes, it even tops Frankenstein.)

So, there's that. I'm trying to broaden my horizons. I think that's a weird expression. You're not getting any closer to the horizon, and you still can't see past it. Really all you're doing is creating more doubt and uncertainty. Sorry, this is supposed to be the optimistic blog. I'll save the confusion caused by idioms for some other project.

Oh, hey! I need to update my dreams! This one might actually be obtainable. I want to play video games in a movie theater. I know you can rent out theaters for multimedia conferencing. I want to hook up a PlayStation 2 and play War of the Monsters on the big screen. Shadow of the Colossus would be a good one too.

Accomplishment: New Blog!

I've taken many steps to ensure a better future, but this is probably among the most important.

With this new blog I can record the things I'm doing to pave the road my personal van of awesomeness will drive on to deliver me and those who will eventually be working with me to greatness. The tone of course will be personally uplifting and optimistic, so as not to be confused with the LiveJournal of dread. That's for feelings and memories and other right-brained nonsense. This is for things that are... not... that.

Here I will list my goals along with what I am doing to achieve them. Places I go to, people I meet, and things I do that don't suck will be listed here. I should probably start with my goals.

GOALS:
- Get a job in voice acting
- Publish a novel
- Publish a graphic novel/comic book
- Produce animated series
- Produce video game

As you can see, it helps to start small and work your way up. These are my career goals. In order to achieve them I'll have to overcome a few of my personal goals. Again, the personal stuff is a bit too emotional/psychological to get into right now. The focus of this blog is my art. Personal goals such as friendship/relationship/emotional stability/sanity/fashion sense type things will be mentioned as I come across them. While I'm here... let's go for some dreams. My dreams are more like "sub-goals." If I achieve my goals, then these are the next most awesomest step.

DREAMS:
- Produce a GOOD Sonic The Hedgehog game for consoles. One that revitalizes the franchise to the point where those gosh darn hedgehog haters online will shut their noise tubes once and for all. I'd also like to see another balloon in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.
- Start a franchise that rivals Star Wars in sheer scope and popularity. Again, these are dreams. I just want to clarify that. I want to make something popular that stays popular, and isn't just one of those things that come along, take the world by storm, and then everybody forgets about it a year or so later.
- Found a graphic novel library. I'm still gonna donate a bunch of books to the library. There are a lot of graphic novels they're missing that I want to read. I figure buying up a bunch of comics and donating them will make up for all of the money they're spending on postage getting my research materials to me. Then I just started thinkin', "Wouldn't it be awesome to have a library that was just for comic books?" I know there are comic stores, but aren't you supposed to buy things there? I'll wait for things to age a bit before I buy them so I don't take business away from retailers. But, you know, I think it'd be cool. And it could double as an ARCADE! We could get pinball, and Bubble Bobble, and Hang-On, and Street Fighter II, an' a whole bunch o' them cool old games by Atari, Namco, and Capcom. It would be THE place to be for degenerates, geeks, and budding artists with no social lives.
- Be Strong Bad for a day.

Ah, it's good to dream. It gives me something to perpetually look forward to since they will never happen. Still, I mustn't get distracted by figments of my imagination. That happens too often. Like how I spend all day daydreaming about going to the mall instead of actually going there. Yeah, that's... um... pretty sad. I think "Physically Go To The Mall" should be added to my list of personal goals. This is a blog of action and determination and sweat and blood and run on sentences and poor punctuation and insufferable egocentricities and conjunctions and pancakes and... many many words.

Stay tuned for the next episode where we might actually talk about awesome things. Or, maybe it'll be the episode after next. Or, maybe it'll be one of those much hyped about blogs that don't get good until halfway through the second season, but are canceled because by then everyone has given up on it. That seems likely.