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

Sewing the Seeds of Fate

The whole point of school, as I understand it, is to learn what you need to learn in order to lead a successful and/or fulfilling life. The system doesn't seem to hold to that ideal (though I've heard great things about Evergreen State, and considering half the people I know go there there must be a reason for it.) Do what you've gotta do to do what you want to do. A well-rounded education certainly isn't gonna hurt. If you're familiar with history, psychology, literature, what-have-you, you can draw from it for inspiration and craft better stories. It's not so much what you know as it is what you can do, and most importantly who knows what you can do. If college can help you get the connections you need in order to get into your desired field then that's definitely the way to go. That was one of the big draws the Art Institute had. Not only could they teach you how to make video games, they had actual connections to developers! Hell, if it weren't for the poor learning environment, bad hours, the soul crushing debt I had taken on in student loans, my own emotional baggage, and the fact I only had one class that actually pertained to my goals and I felt really passionate about while all the others were about covering bridges in fabric and teaching students how to use a keyboard, then by golly I would've stayed. As it stands, I physically had to hold myself back to keep from hurling myself into traffic. I did get a great bag from that school though. It's been with me for years. I've never had a backpack last this long.

I have done my fair share of research, and the general consensus, even among comic artists, is that comics are a waste of time and money (I would love to link to a specific article where the first words of advice are "Cancel all social engagements for the next seven years," but I can't seem to find it again.) Unless fortune smiles on you and you become an instant success you're gonna want a regular job to keep a roof over your head and instant ramen in your stomach, and that's where the college education helps because it looks good when you are applying for a managerial position at Blockbuster. Me? I'm dumber than a lobotomized sheep and have the social skills of a land-mine with palsy. The creative arts are my only shot at a life.

Resources are important. A battle plan must be forged before drastic measures are taken. Unless you have a game plan, you could end up a chronically unemployed, socially-disengaged, eternally recurring pursuer of knowledge doomed to fail, overlord like myself whether you continue with school or not. Don't ditch school unless you have a firm grasp of what you need to do to succeed. Failure is still a possibility, and I understand how terrifying risk can be, but some times you just gotta blind-fire around the corner and hope for the best too. You need tools in order to carve your dreams into the bathroom stall of life. Sadly, I'm just now starting to learn for myself how to get the ball rolling and how to request assistance when the proverbial sphere starts rolling back down the hill of adversity because I'm arrogant enough to assume I can do everything on my own, and ignorant enough to assume I should.

The Astonishing Dude was one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. It was a way to utilize my writing abilities, learn new skills, bring my allies together, and finally create something after years of struggling with projects I start but never finish and certainly never put before an audience. It was all thanks to a chain of events that began with a simple newspaper. This was one of the few times I was able to fully take matters into my own hands and place myself well outside of my comfort zone, risking complete failure and embarrassment, yet reigning triumphant (for a couple months...)

I wish to do this again. I am keeping my eye out for opportunities again. I am in the midst of tentatively adapting a short story into a screenplay that I will possibly place in the hands o cinematographic mercenaries as a means of testing those waters for a possible future. I need time to prepare and organize a strike-force to re-initiate The Astonishing Dude (I must also seek a new online host for the show. An official Astonishing Dude website would be best, but I will settle for MySpace if I can find someone to design the page for me.) I am also seeking financial aid and enrollment assistance so that I may audit a theater class. I have no intention of enrolling full-time or attempting to get a degree. My only wish is to exploit the school for services I am interested in, learning that which I am eager to learn, and using those tools of the trade to construct a dreadnought of acting ability that I may use to rule the world! Even the Vancouver Voice, the gateway that allowed me to accomplish my finest achievement, had a posting that they were for want of a Neighborhood Beats writer, for which I have inquired about but have not received a reply, and really have no delusions that I will. I am experimenting. I am watching. I am in wait for the next time Fate shows a weakness, that I might perchance to savagely forge for myself a brighter future in her blood.

(Disclaimer: I am an unemployed overlord with delusions of hope. I am in no way encouraging anyone to terminate their education. I am merely trying assist people in realizing personal empowerment so that they may get a hold of their lives in a way they feel is right for themselves. This commentary does not reflect the opinions of anyone other than a depraved and beaten man who lives at home with his mother. Only you can prevent forest fires. Winners don't use drugs. The more you know...)

They called me "mad." I demand a second opinion.

Once again it has been some time since I last updated my conquest blog. This absence of activity can logically be attributed to a lack of recent accomplishments. One of my most valuable servants has recently sustained heavy injury at the hands of zombified bears, and I have been forced to focus my attention on the lair’s upkeep and insuring that my vassal recovers in a timely fashion so as not to further inconvenience me. (Yes, you may say it. I am a truly benevolent overlord.)

The undead ursine outbreak couldn’t have happened at a worse time as I have recently been, shall I say, “volunteering” at a local mental health clinic. I was mislead to believe that the facility would provide me with a fresh diagnosis for my particular genius. They were however unqualified to issue a professional diagnosis, but the word “psychotic” had escaped the lips of one of the employees (and was quickly followed by, “My god! No! Please stop! Please! I take it back! Please! No! NO! I beg you! AHHHHH!” which may or may not have been a psychological term describing Thanatophobia.)

While they were unhelpful in regards to defining for me what it is that makes me so great (I will settle for “rugged good-looks” if I can’t find a second opinion) they were able to provide me with some small matters of insight pertaining to the few barriers I still face on my way to global domination.

While I am in no way denying that my intellect stretches far beyond the veil of cognitive conscious… -itude… there was a time, believe it or not, when I was in many ways smarter than I am today (by a standardized academic definition at any rate.) My ability to learn and retain information has dwindled over the years. Memory, concentration, memory; have all suffered at the hands of some unquantifiable foe. I now believe I understand the culprit behind my not-smart-no-more-ness.

BRAIN POISONING!

Yes, my faithful followers. My brain has been poisoned… by MYSELF!

This isn’t any old metaphorical “brain poisoning” as suggested by advocates against video games, comic books, and Chevy Chase. Oh no, this poisoning is real.

As it turns out, hyperventilating in the case of extreme stress and anxiety causes a deregulation in oxygen or something something whatever. Carbon dioxide gets stored up in the brain along with the FDA approved oxygen it requires, and brain cells begin to suffocate and die horrible agonizing deaths. Brain cells that are lost are unable to grow back. While it isn’t exactly comforting to know that every time I become emotionally distraught my brain withers like an old piece of fruit, it is added incentive to bottle up my surplus of negative emotions (this way instead of a slow painful death while I watch everything I hold dear slip away from me and become obscured by dementia, I will continue along my present path unabated until the day I spontaneously combust in one big glorious ball of inner turmoil that could level a small country given twenty years of suppression. I am my own doomsday device.)

It seems like there was something else I learned, but I don’t remember it. Something about people and how I don’t have anyone other than my therapist to really confide in, which is unfortunate as it’s nearly impossible to reach her in a time of emotional crisis. They were probably just trying to get me to trust them so they could discover my weakness and exploit it. People can't be trusted. I’m much better off learning how to deal with my feelings without assistance. I’ve been doing a great job so far. (*cough*)

I am trying to re-formulate my strategy for success. Impatience has been known to foil 99.99% of evil overlords, but I need an empire and I need it yesterday! (Yes, I’m getting desperate enough that time-travel is being taken into consideration, and I HATE time-travel.) My literary works aren’t going to be completed within a reasonable period of time, and there are too many downsides to sitting around locked in my chamber alone to risk focusing my efforts on them. Voice acting seems to be the most viable use of my talents. Unfortunately I know nothing of “the business.” There is one thing I’ve been noticing by following the exploits of my heroes (most recently M. Bison of Shadowloo): they all have a complex network of connections, but it’s never established how they were… established. I am at a severe disadvantage as I am unable to sustain my polite, energetic, intelligent behavior. There are any number of circumstances that cause me to cease functioning in an ideal manner. If I am able to be myself in the presence of someone who could potentially influence my chosen profession then I can almost guarantee that they will at the least like me enough to thrown in a good word to a guy who knows a guy. Many people do not get the opportunity to be graced by my true glorious self however, and instead see a quiet simpering fool struggling to hold back his screams of fear and hopelessness. This is what must be remedied, but the best remedy is a purposeful life of accomplishment. I fear I cannot achieve my goals until I have become the master of my mind and body, and in order to do that I must my goals. The endless cycle known as “Catch-22” rolls on as I am left behind wondering, as the kids say (out loud), “WTF?”

Some day my dreams will come true. In the meantime I have a cat box to clean.

Pathos and goodwill,
Lord Veltha

PS: Press a links for the great prize!

"It was Fate, in the radio station, with the ironic twist."

In this installment of Lord Veltha VS Fate, we would like to recap for you last week's spectacular confrontation between the two forces of personification, but before we do that let's head to Tom at the sports desk for a brief look at the last month's activities to explain why this was such a crucial battle in the epic struggle between the two titans. Tom?

"Thank you, my lord. You're looking great as ever, Sir."

It must be hard to sit at the sports desk with your head up your ass, Tom. You could easily be replaced.

"Apologies my lord. Well, Veltha fans, it's been a long month for the team. After last month's spectacular victory with The Astonishing Dude Episode 1: Art Critical, they decided to make it two for two with episode two, but things did not go smoothly. Trouble started when, due to confusion and scheduling conflicts, some members of the cast were unable to arrive at the recording session on time. After a brief loss of composure..."

You can go ahead and skip that part. This blog is about optimism.

"Despite certain... complications... and beginning the recording session half an hour late rather than getting in there and recording scenes that did not feature the temporarily misplaced cast members whom were but victims of the dark lord's shoddy scheduling abilities..."

Think of your family, Tom.

"... it's kind of hard to..."

You can do it, Tom. I have faith in you. So does your wife and children.

"... the... um... session was slightly hurried, particularly during the end of the session, but the only casualty was one line of dialog that could be recorded remotely later on in the week, and the unfortunate choice to record dialog with the background walla rather than recording them separately so that it would be easier to manipulate the two on separate tracks. Regardless, the afternoon was perceived as a victory.

"Then came the long and laborious editing process which the lord, in his need for control and perfection, took on by himself as Lucifer took on the task of corrupting mankind in Paradise Lost..."

Good analogy.

"After working morning 'til night on his laptop (which was miraculously able to keep up with Lord Veltha's pace despite having a history of overheating and breaking down) for about a week with only one day to rest, the day came when it was time to report for DJ duty at WSU's KOUG Radio station. There had been no time to prepare for that week's show as he had been busy fussing over The Astonishing Dude. Fortunately, one of his comrades came with a copy of the "Men Are From Mars; Women Are From Venus" board game and the team was able to kill most of the time answering questions about their sex lives. It was thought that disaster had been averted, but when it came time for them to leave the unthinkable happened.

"Somehow, the station's automated playlist ceased functioning. Having been on edge for most of the program..."

But masking it fairly well.

"Once things took a turn for the worst Lord Veltha's anxiety became barely manageable. It was then as he watched over his engineer's shoulder to understand what the problem was that one of his comrades prodded him playfully in the back. Determined to prevent his friends from knowing about the full extent of his unstable mental state, and doing everything he could to prevent them from ever seeing him in a 'freaked out' state for fear that they might begin to treat him differently, he had neglected to inform them that physical contact in a time of anxiety had grave circumstances. In a tiny room packed with people, during a time of perceived crisis and great claustrophobia, Lord Veltha was able to resist falling into a wrathful state by utilising his new found mental powers. He, in his benign greatness, rather than causing the entire building to explode, was able to simply turn around and say to his friend, 'Let's not do that right now' with a next to pleasant smile on his face. Ironically, his friends responded by attempting to console him with a pat on the back.

"The crisis however, had not been averted. Dead air was all the audience was hearing, and dead air was then enemy. Something had to be done while the system was brought back online, and it was up to Lord Veltha himself to address the audience and stall for time. Again, rage and despair made a claim for the dark lord's soul, but with a duty to fulfill it was immediately cast aside and his persona was that of a radio announcer yet again, completely in control of his emotions by being completely focused on the task at hand. The alternative to doing a job well done was unacceptable. Once the system was reactivate and they were able to call it a day, Lord Veltha immediately fled from the station and took refuge in the bathroom that smells like Jell-O, rocking back and forth in the fetal position as he attempted to reacquire his nerve and wit before facing his allies again."

I was out getting lunch. You didn't say anything that would compromise my position as an evil overlord, did you?

"No, Sir."

Good. I mean, I know I told you to keep it brief, but I decided to take advantage of your long winded depictions of my awesomeness in order to obtain a sandwich. Would you like some?

"No thank you, my lord."

Okie doke. Carry on.

"After that harrowing struggle it was back to work for the master. With only a week left before the episode aired and only half of the show completed he would have to channel all of his energy into completing the show. Every track of dialog had to have the volume balanced out, many of the sound clips required various plug-ins that modulated the voices, legally obtainable free sound effects were difficult to come by, but with one full day to spare Episode 2 of The Astonishing Dude had been completed. That day was well spent, and a private viewing with friends and family was arranged.

Ow!

"A-are you alright, Sir?"

I juth bit my thung. Don' thop. Juth keep thelling the thory.

"As you wish, Sir.

"The next day everything appeared to be going well, but Lord Veltha in his mysterious wisdom could sense that something was wrong. Knowing full well that success was on the horizon he shrugged off his discomfort and was escorted to the station. It was then, approximately half-way through the episode, that the laptop that had survived for weeks during the editing process suddenly shut down for good. The computer could not be repaired, and it held the only available copy of the show. Thankfully his trusty engineer thought quickly on his feat and began playing music while Lord Veltha sought out a means of getting the show back on the air."

"A month of stress and little sleep had finally caught up, weakening the overlord. As he attempted to relay instructions to deliver his external hard drive to the station the darkness inside him began to seep out into the world. Frantic and hopeless, it took all of his remaining strength to hold himself up in front of his ninja lieutenant. Wanting nothing more than to run away from his responsibilities and give up on the whole thing..."

Alright alright. I'm sick of hearing you talk.

"But..."

You can go home now.

"But... what about my family?"

Oh yeah... them. I don't remember what I did with them.

"But I...!"

Just go home. If I find them laying around somewhere I'll mail them to you. Now leave before I rip out your spine and beat you with it.

"Oh... alright..."

Today's not a pleasant day. I haven't slept in, like... well I haven't slept. I can't focus. I still need to mow the lawn. Anyway, after nearly breaking down I managed to focus myself in much the same way I did the previous week. There was a job to be done. It wasn't going to get done if I was freaking out. If all I was good for was giving up and crying like a freaking baby then the best thing I could do was not be myself and do it well. I gave up on TAD and ran back to the station (I had done a lot of running. First I started running to the parking lot with my ninja chauffeur, then I decided to call my mom, then I freaked out and gave up.) Once back inside I took the station by the reigns and we ended up doing what I consider to be the best show we've ever done. Hopefully we can archive it online soon, but we'll need to get it onto someone else's computer since mine is DEEEEAAAAAD!

Hopefully this Friday my external hard drive will work and we can air the show again, this time ALL the way through. The right after that is Kumoricon, which unfortunately I know nothing about since I've never gone before, have been too busy to research it, and every time I try to focus on anything I start breaking down again. I've been pushing myself much too hard. It's terrible, because if I can't keep up with these shows how will I ever be able to achieve my other goals? I understand I'm fairly new to the world. I haven't had a whole lot of experience in reality. My body and mind aren't conditioned for the labor I'm forcing myself to do. Eventually my power will grow, but I mustn't be hasty. Everything will come in time. Impatience has lead to the downfall of many overlords. I must learn from the mistakes of my predecessors. I must accept myself for who I am, and hope that others are able to do the same. I don't believe I give my friends enough credit. I obviously have been failing to hide from them, and yet it doesn't phase them in the least. Considering the way things have been going, K-Con is certain to be an adventure.

What could possibly go wrong?

"If I'm going to be concious at ungodly hours, I may as well stream it."

I feel drunker than a wombat on a goat song could you pass the relish my grandma can't take much more or this is the end of the line Mr. Jones, Mr. Peanut, Mr. Rogers, Mr. T, Mr. Ed couldn't sing tenor to save his lives are one hundred coins each would you like a bag for that or would you like to wear it home Sargent Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band camp and brothel with peas and carrots mixed in a special cream cheese sauce.

Welcome one and all to the Scrap Brain Zone portion of our show where we're so REM sleep deprived we begin to emulate the effects of intoxication. Day one we're sluggish, 2nd day we're cranky, third day we zombie out, and on the 4th day we have violent mood swings. By the end of the fourth this is what happens. My pants are enormous could I borrow yours? Someday we'll laugh at the 101 uses for fish sticks all mattresses must go! This is what happens. The middle changes from time to time, but the end is always the same.

1. "I'll be okay."
2. "Calm down. There's nothing to worry about."
3. "Oh god I need to sleep tonight. I need to sleep. I can't do this again."
4. "My pancreas spoke to me though my hand and it's not pleased with the progress we're making on the waffles John Deer would eat our skin through a bucket sized spaghetti strainer on a Saturday night fever pitch!"

So much to do so much to do. Try to go with the flow. On bad days I stop and let it be bad. Cancel plans. Apologize the next day. Bad day bad day. Violence, rage and anger mustn't be seen mustn't be seen. What would the henchmen think? Don't sweat it champ it happens to the best of us from time to time just don't let the porcupines bear witness or it will come back to bite you in the checkbook. I proposed to a car after my girlfriend kicked me to the curb when I sang a love song on the way home, then Freddy Kruger gave me an indian burn in front of Santa Claus and made baby Jesus cry. Baby Jesus: from the company that brought you Tickle-Me-Judas and Bathtime Fun Moses! Can't keep a beat but still keep rockin'! Toilet seat allergies are worse in the autumn. So much to do. I keep trying. I mustn't give up. Move on and perservere through madness. Infinite improbability overload quick strangle the gopher before it makes off with my Cheetos.

How long can I go on like this? It won't shut off. So much to do so much to do busy busy busy. I don't know what I'm doing. I never know. I keep trying. All surpass me. Why do I fight? What am I good at? I can't do enough. It'll never be enough. My envy of others is my downfall. I feel shame for my insecurity. Garden biscuits for breakfast Tuesday though Saturday at Weasel Land Family Fun Park. Marmots get in free! How can what I do be enough? So many dreams. None can be achieved. Keep trying. Keep trying. Reach for the stars no matter how much your arm hurts when it cramps up from the irony. Sing me oh muse a tale of woe. Of dichord and chaos long long ago. There once was a man, a milliner of lies, who chuckled and chortled at everyone's guise. I cannot go on, but I know that I must. Come with me now or else fade into dust.

Don't raffle at the gun show sink like a ship in the sand drink and be merry don't let it eat you strive for your life and let manniquins weep.

Can I try to keep going? Don't know if I'll stop. I just want to live all of my lives and share them with the world. I know many good people that on one else does. I want to invite them to join in the fun. They will make people laugh and hopefully cry, and all mourn their loss when they finally die.

I'm still trying. Please help me succeed.

In hindsight, stream of conciousness writing may not be the best way to fall asleep. It used to work. If my mind wouldn't shut off I'd let it flow like this onto a piece of paper, and once all of the nonsense was absorbed I could put it aside and go to sleep. Now the flow doesn't always end. I stop when I get tired or bored, but my mind is still going. I usually post this crap where I collect my thoughts in order to figure out how my mind works, but for some reason this time around I was compelled to share it here. It's funny how it begins with babbling, then I go on to explain why I'm in my peculiar mental state, and somewhere in there near then end I begin to get whiny. I also talk about allowing bad days to be bad, but I never talk about allowing good days to be good, or explain what a bad day is and how allowing it to be bad is my way of making it good. That's probably because none of that makes sense and I hate explaining things. I don't like forcing myself to think. I've long lost the ability to do so, and now I must simply be. Stream of conciousness writing is the fullest extension of "simply being." It is not something that you do. It is something you allow yourself to do.

This is the most pathetic entry I've posted in quite some time. This is not what this blog is for. This blog is about sharing my triumphs.

Maybe tomorrow.

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.

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.