Overlord Overview #2

It is the year 0079 of the Universal Century. A half-century has passed since I, Lord Veltha, last posted a blog entry about my epic struggles to gain control over my small little world. A new home for mankind where people are born, and raised, and actually try to make a point to accomplish something. Seven months ago the Velthan Empire declared war on Clark Community College's financial aid administration. Initial fighting lasted over three months and saw both sides lose half their respective populations. People were horrified by the indescribable atrocities that had been committed in the name of independence.

However, due to the long-lasting stalemate, treaties of peace have since been signed and now I am enrolled as part-time student. Though, hold on... I seem to have skipped ahead a bit.

Amidst the struggles for academic supremacy, I had been participating in secret on a reality television (read: YouTube) series while cleverly disguised as a dumbass. Each episode was filmed semi-weekly at Hazel Dell Lanes, and featured a variety of challenges for me to quite entirely suck at. While it can be assumed that having not bowled for three years prior to the filming of this show would mean a distinctive lack of skill, talent, and fabulousness in my play-style, the shifting challenges did nothing to help me gain the experience I needed to improve. Chronic insomnia is also a difficult adversity to overcome in bowling. As is clearly depicted in episode 3, the circumstances of going without sleep for three to four weeks affects a person in such a manner that when forced to bowl for a reality television competition, the person will alternately have a big pansy-ass baby breakdown right there in front of everyone and sing Tom Lehrer songs. Incidentally, I was also later voted the favorite contestant of the season, which just goes to show that the key to victory in television, as in life, is to openly show no sign of skill while being the biggest asshole you can possibly be. Hate is love. The upshot is, my overwhelming popularity (by vote of maybe six people out of the eleven who have watched the show) was enough to land me the position as host of season 2.

My hostly duties were self-summarized as follows:

- Say whatever the director tells you to say, but better

- Be yourself and say whatever the hell you want to say

- You have no overall impact on the show so don't try to usurp us. We are Legion.

- Don't suck as much as the last host (Ha! That... that was a joke... in case my boss is reading this.)

Four episodes have been filmed already, and I'm beginning to get in the groove. The key is to demand my own cameraman. After all, to be myself is to be amazing, and how can I be amazing without someone constantly watching me? If David Blaine seals himself in a block of ice for a year in the forest and no one is around to tell him he's stupid, does he get any real satisfaction from the frostbite? I am doing my best to go above and beyond the duties of sitting around waiting for the crappy bowling to end. I'm actually getting in people's faces and asking the questions people want to know, such as "Do you hate your grandma?" and "Have you ever peed in the shower?" I nominate myself for best host ever, and ride my landslide victory into a big steaming heap of your gratitude for the service I have done for entertainment. You're welcome.

I have missed most of one episode though. I've been sick, but I'm driven to achieve by the fine actors I hear about on DVD commentary who go to work hungover from Sudafed and with mild concussions. If Jon Hamm can get his head split open on the set of Mad Men by the most mortified rigger in the history of television and come back from the hospital to finish to gorram scene against everyone's advice, then the least I can do is show up at a parking lot in a seedy area of town with a cold to tell people to bowl in a very impractical manner. I only have a couple more days to get completely better though, because I cannot miss the next day of filming. It's the Halloween episode. Fear my white-trash costuming skills.

I'm still no closer to getting a job; or a car; I haven't written anything, drawn anything, edited TAD, or spoken to anyone about voice acting in months; and yet I feel more content than I have in quite a while. I have structure now and see my friends on an almost daily basis. Things are fine now, but I'm still concerned for my future. There's so much more that I want to accomplish and I've done nothing. I had intended to speak with the director of Rolloff about a series I wanted to pitch him, but got distracted away from that, and now I feel that opportunity has been lost.

On the bright side: I am Spider-Man.

Part of the bargain I struck with Clark College in order to get my mother off their backs about all of the shit they were putting us through was that they would allow me to attend an acting class. I have no desire to act on stage, and grow increasingly disillusioned with film, but if I can learn how to suck less as a voice actor then I will be academically satisfied.

Part of my success as an overlord with manic depression is that I avoid going on stage unless I have a teleprompter reminding me of the words to "A Boy Named Sue." A monologue, going up on stage in front of everyone and hallucinating that you're somewhere else talking to a person that doesn't exist, is the hardest thing an actor has to deal with aside from the very real possibility that you suck as an actor (which, as previously discussed, isn't that big of a deal if you're a sufficient enough asshole as most actors are.) Our teacher instructed us that our monologue selection should be something we relate to, connect with, and isn't Shakespeare. My first thought was Spider-Man. True, I look up to the greats such as Dr. Doom, Lex Luthor, The Shredder, and Gargamel, but when it comes to real emotional connection to story-telling, quite frankly that's what Spider-Man is known for. Most dedicated Spider-Man followers will tell you that the reason they read Spider-Man is because he's a loser like them. Spider-Man was my first instinct, and I should have gone with it.

Instead I chose a re-written monologue from a play called "Fishing" by Micheal Weller, who, thankfully, is a playwright from the 1970's who writes stories about youthful and energetic partakers of the magic cookie bush. The dialog is witty and often nonsensical. It's perfect for me. The particular monologue I chose was not.

I was having an infamously bad morning. My depression led me to believe that I would be ridiculed for picking a monologue out of Ultimate Spider-Man. I was terrified that I would be looked upon as lazy and uncaring. I decided to look through the teacher's books one more time. I stumbled over the monologue, about a guy who was on the brink of killing himself and decided he really wanted to live, and figured it sounded an awful lot like my morning. At the time it seemed like the perfect choice. If I was in a good mood it could be read with a sense of irony, and if I was in a bad mood it could be read well. I immediately went to Powell's to buy the play it was from, because I wanted to make the effort. I'm always to determined to prove how hard I can work. I hate hearing teachers give the class crap about how lazy they are and feeling like they're speaking to me too. I had to do everything I could to prove myself, and I pushed myself as hard as I could. The day I read it was the kind of morning where you wake up feeling alright, but then start mumbling "I want to carve my heart out with a knife" while you're scrambling eggs and suddenly everything goes downhill. After my monologue I ran out of the classroom screaming f-bombs and hid in the trees somewhere. The horrible thing about the Clark College campus is that there is no place to hide and be alone. By the time I got home I was fairly certain I was going to hurt myself. I kept screaming things about wanting to break off my fingers. This lasted a few hours and subsided.

This is an important thing to note, because a hero is not measured by his victories, but by his failures. (I say hero in the Campbellian sense of the term. You must also realize that with the original Greek concept of a hero, what made a deed heroic was the amazement factor, not whether or not the deed itself was good. If you could bring down a building with your bare hands and crush everyone inside you were called a hero. Greeks also believed throwing babies in the fire gave them immortality.) I also realize that Blogger doesn't have the nifty hiding feature that Live Journal has.

This failure taught me many things:

1) Manic depressives shouldn't spend so much time working on memorizing/feeling things about death.

2) Taquitos are magical wish-granting foods that can help you memorize things in the knick of time.*

3) THERE IS NO PLACE YOU CAN HIDE AT CLARK COLLEGE. Plan escape routes accordingly and hide in your girlfriend's car.

4) Orcas get off on rubbing against the smooth rocks along the shores of British Columbia. (Source missing.)

After that fiasco I decided it was in everyone's best interest that I read comic books. In issue 21 of Ultimate Spider-Man, after his second win out of six fights, Spidey is given a chance to explain to the press who he is and why he runs around in tights punching people with robot arms and reality television hosts. If you crop it up right, it becomes a very nice monologue. There are many monologues in Ultimate Spider-Man. Brian Michael Bendis really likes to hear himself write. There's one monologue that spans three issues during the Venom story arc. Three issues of Peter's dad talking about cancer, bureaucracy, and how he has no idea that he's going to die in a plane crash. However, I chose to do what I know: talk about how I just want to do my thing and not care about what people think.

When I delivered the monologue I was still sick. I also had to leave the class once because when I was critiquing another actor I forgot to lead in with what I liked and a girl sitting behind me smacked me with the script she was holding. Granted, if I wasn't already terrified and on edge about what happened last time I went on stage the playful thwap wouldn't have sent me reeling, but I am not master over circumstances. I was able to head back fairly soon, and it wasn't long before it was my turn. Even with little preparation time given my illness and other responsibilities I seemed to do very well.

I will tell you right now that I have missed applause. I don't have the opportunity to receive genuine applause often. In a classroom environment like that applause is obligatory, and you can tell the difference between obligatory applause and genuine applause. For one thing, the teacher was reeling back in his seat laughing and asking me what my monologue was from. Here I was terrified I would be ridiculed for choosing something out of a comic book, and he was actually commending me fore it and was in awe of how creative I was in choosing such unusual material. Most of the class didn't catch on that it was Spider-Man until the end, if at all. People reacted most positively to how I wasn't trying to be a super hero, and that I was just some dorky guy, which was entirely the point of the monologue. The biggest complaint was my exit because I didn't jump up and pretend to swing away. Once people clicked that I was Spider-Man that's what they were expecting. And the teacher gave me the best compliment I have ever received. Even better than "[Veltha] you are the sanest person I know. Which is weird, because you're the only person I know who is certifiably IN-sane."

"I used to read Spider-Man when it first started. And that was a looong time ago. To me, you are how I imagine Peter Parker."

I've been fortunate lately. I finally have a daily routine. I get to see my friends almost every day. I may or may not be acquiring a skill I can use someday if I keep fighting for it. I'm on my way to becoming a local internet sensation. I have an amazing girlfriend. But it was in that moment on stage that I finally felt victory. That was the praise I've been struggling so hard for.

Anyway, there's that. At the time of this posting it is past noon, and I have yet to ingest any meals. I should have had three by now. My metabolism is a mighty force to be reckoned with. My failure to take care of my health will not go unpunished I'm sure. What I need is a warm bowl of soup, followed by a hot shower and a comfy couch. Then... THE WORLD!

Pathos and good will,

Lord Veltha

*Lord Veltha's Guide to Monologue Memorization (because there aren't enough lists in this post):

1) Re-write the monologue in your own handwriting, complete with the subtext of what the character is really thinking written in the margins with a different color of writing utensil.

2) Eat taquitos. LOTS of taquitos.

3) You know what, cook up some french fries while you're at it.

4) Spend a couple hours half-heartedly struggling in vein trying to memorize the lines. Read it until you really don't want to work anymore but really should because it's important. Then throw the guilt away and come to a complete stop.

5) Curl up with a cat on the couch and watch TV or DVDs.

6) Play video games until you fall asleep.

7) In the morning when you wake up you will know the monologue from top to bottom without any difficulty.

Yes, this is my method for memorization, and yes it worked. Twice.

Lord Veltha Versus The Power of FRIENDSHIIIIIP!

The key to being an effective overlord is learning how to properly utilize and trust your henchmen. After all, without minions you're just another man in a cape trying to conquer the world. A villain, sure, but not an overlord.

This is where I have my largest difficulties on my path towards conquest. Given my nature as a flamboyantly dressed, egomaniacal, "if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself" type of person, I am actually suppressing my potential for global domination by limiting my reliance on vassals.

I compare my work to that of professionals in all that I do, and I look on my works ye mighty and despair, for I am merely "good." It also seems that about 75% of everything I do consists of busy work. I things that allow me to utilize my imagination, to socialize with like-minded individuals, and allow me to use my natural ability to mimic the voice of Patrick Warburton, like writing, directing, and prank calling Neil Patrick Harris. I enjoy things like animation (which takes for effing EVER), doodling (I don't particularly consider what I do to be "drawing" so much as giving circles legs), and editing audio (we'll get to that.) That is, I enjoy these things to a certain extent. For the first few hours I am enchanted by the creative process, but soon after my first pumpkin pie break it becomes tedious busy work that never seems to end. I love watching this come to fruition, and giggle with mad glee at well-timed audio cues, or simple chunks of narration magically transformed into an intense monster truck show of layered effects, but these things require patience. Regardless, these are things I must have control over so I do them myself. I know what I am capable of, but the abilities of others are a mystery to me. Certainty is a necessity that is more commonly a luxury.

Accepting of course that I am infallible, that everything I do is right, and what my mother said about how I can do anything I put my mind to is true; even if I am capable of doing everything perfectly, everything is a hell of a lot to do. I must learn to delegate tasks, but this goes against more than a decade and a half of bad programing. Back in the good old days of basic education it was standard practice for me to do group projects on my own. As such I never learned essential social skills pertaining to dictatorship, such as divvying workloads, organisation of meetings outside of class, and Japanese water torture.

Slowly but surely I am acquiring theme skills in my work on The Astonishing Dude. Organizing rehearsals and recording session is a challenge best compared to forcefully aligning the planets, where every individual and every resource required is a planet in orbit around my metaphor. This troop rallying is a task I must not give to another because that would encourage my anti-social behavior.

Once the project is recorded I will continue to edit it myself as I have been. However, uploading the project to the new venue, YouTube, is a responsibility I may have to force on others. You see, it's not enough just to upload the show. It was intended for radio. I fear the attention deficit masses will not show interest in my program when there are things out there like YouTube Street Fighter. Animation in some form is required. Kinetic Typography is the approach I'm taking now. Though my program isn't up to the complexities of more impressive works, it's enough, or would be if I had the patience for it. As is, I've worked on it for approximately eight hours and am only an eighth of the way through my thirty minute show. The other more tantalizing option is to include illustrations, but again, if we're gonna do it we're gonna do it right. My editing program doesn't allow for delicate camera movements with still images. The artwork would certainly be enough to carry the piece though. I know I should not be picky, but it is my nature.

I believe film or theater would be an acceptable compromise, or present compromises that would be acceptable, or possibly compromise my acceptance if I go about it all wrong. The point is that in these two live action media lies the potential for artistic communion in my budding criminal empire. I wouldn't be able to do any acting. My body is stiff and awkward. Plus, if I wrote the script, which would be the plan, I wouldn't be able to memorize it. Ask anyone I've ever written an email to, and they will tell you that these blogs are like children's books in comparison. My dialog tends to be on the wordy side. Plus I have the memory of a brain damaged goldfish. Even other fish would say, "Seriously, man? We passed that pebble like, .0008 seconds ago. What's your problem? Stay with it, bitch!" I would have a better chance of memorizing something I wrote, just as I have an easier time acting out my own writing than scripts from the East Coast folks I tend to do business with online, but it would all be to no avail. Writing and directing would have to go hand in hand. As I understand it, it's uncommon for screenwriters to be involved in a professional production beyond typing the words "The End." Thankfully, I am not yet a professional, so in theory I should have time to build a reputation that demands involvement in as much of the film as possible due to my sheer unrelenting brilliance. I wouldn't have to do all of it myself, which brings me back to the point of this entry.

I feel as though it would be easier for me to relinquish editing duties of a film project to someone qualified for the position than it would be for the radio program. Radio involves a lot of micromanaging and sound design to create a world exclusively through audio. With film most of what the audience perceives is captured by the camera. Foley and music can be added later, but most of the essential elements are there from the start. Editing is done in swift smooth strokes as opposed to subtle jabs. Not that it isn't difficult, especially with multiple takes and angles to choose from. I don't wish to insult any filmmakers, I'm simply making observations from my experience. The process is different, and I feel it would be easier for me to leave the post-production, pre-production, and present-tense-production to the professionals and I would have less need to be in complete control (though I would still like to supervise.)

Projects on the table:

1. The Astonishing Dude Episode 3 (Still need casting, rehearsals, and to actually record the damn thing.)
2. Lawrence The Majestic (Originally intended to adapt my short story into a short film. That didn't work out. It's going to be much longer. Still need to finish the script. We'll wing it from there.)
3. Unnamed Project (Read part of a script I started to my allies. It seemed to illicit a positive response, and a potential internet meme. It sounds promising enough I may need to focus more attention on it. Will possibly become a YouTube series... if I actually manage to complete a script and build the drive and courage to actually do something with it. That's a big problem with a lot of my work. There's so much I want to accomplish, but I lack the ambition to get off my ass.)
4. Everything F-ing else (As usual, my attempts at novel writing are set to the back burner. As much as I like writing, most of it involves keeping to myself for prolonged periods of time. I would much prefer to mix work and play-time by doing projects I can work on with friends. Plus I'm not good at things like "plot" or "world creation." Dialog is my thing. It's what I do.)

This reminds me; I ran into one of my former writing teachers. She commented on how I do a lot of little projects that don't seem to go anywhere. That wasn't precisely the way she worded it, but that was the point, and it's something that has been on my mind. It seems no matter what I do very little in my life changes. When something does go off in a new direction, eventually the road runs out and I'm back where I started. It's like my fate is a giant rubber-band. The more I accomplish and the further away I get from my default position of uselessness and unproductivity the more it hurts when it finally snaps back, and it always snaps back. I tried school. I tried animation. I tried writing class. I tried radio. It seems as though I am only able to do things for a certain amount of time and I'm back with nothing. It takes so much effort to get as far as I do, but eventually circumstances send me back. I must find a way to escape this eternal return.

I just hope my path lies in the direction of art, and not in the direction of incurable disease, violent crimes, or horrible mind fracturing accidents that unlock the deepest recesses of my mind and release all of my various suppressed fears and paranoia causing them to manifest in a complete alteration of the way I perceive the world around me so that I am never able to will myself into becoming a productive member of society due to the fact that I am never able to follow the infrastructure of the fabricated reality mankind has built for itself after centuries of deluding itself into believing that the path to enlightenment lies in a convoluted system of populous control built around abstract concepts such as law and order that has been perverted and exploited by corrupt bureaucrats who value bartering units over human life.

That would be a bummer.

Pathos and goodwill,

Lord Veltha

Lord Veltha Versus Happiness

It has come to my attention that in principal such things as wealth, power, and fame are not goals people strive for, but the means to their goal. That goal of course is happiness.

Happiness is by definition, "a state of well-being and contentment." The dictionary as always is particularly vague when it comes to subjects of importance such as this, and it is best that people are left to define their own happiness. (The dictionary does however contain the long sought after meaning of "life." Why it has never occurred to people to look it up in the dictionary is beyond me.)

I do not feel as though my problem lies in un-happiness. I am by nature a happy person, but I am away from my natural habitat where I can be myself to the best of my ability. I am away from my natural habitat due to avoidant behavior. I avoid things due to the fear that somehow I will make things worse than they are. It is much safer for me to hide within the confines of my impregnable fortress.

Psychologically, even chronically miserable people have in some depraved way found happiness. Try to snap them out of it and watch how their mood goes from bad to worse. Humans are comforted by that which is familiar to them. Take away that comfort and latent survival instincts kick in. Fending for emotional survival isn't often considered a state of well-being. (This link is not even the least bit relevant.)

If happiness is the goal, then I fear I am going about it all wrong. No amount of therapy can MAKE me happy. Discussing pertinent issues such as relationships and economic ways to destroy the world is helpful without a doubt, but the whole point is to allow me to integrate myself into the world and become a productive member of society. That is the key. I'm learning how to cope with reality, not how to participate in it. I am about as well adjusted as I'm going to get, frightening though it may sound. Therapy will not bring me happiness, and I'm afraid more therapy will only not bring me happiness to a greater extent. It's time I learned how to do things on my own. Only then will I be fit to rule this world with an iron fist.

As such, there are only two things that will bring me happiness.

1) A positive social life

2) Purpose

Group gatherings occur when I am invited to or send invitations to planned events, yet my not-the-least-bit-creepy-or-stalkerish research suggests many shared activities are spontaneous. I'm simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Comrades frequently in close proximity to each other are more likely to ensue in mischief.

Plausible Solution: Discover a method for maintaining consistent social contact with friends in person, whether it be to arrange a meeting place or get over my anti-social pansy-assedness and call people once in a while. Phones aren't that scary.

Alternative Solution: Kidnapping. It seems to work for most evil overlords. Besides, when does brain-washing go wrong?

Purpose is a little trickier. I can not simply slap a sticker on an activity or job and call it purpose. The key as always is to FEEL like it's my purpose. As it so happens there are two activities I feel a strong connection to, however I think I have described the pros and cons before. Writing is problematic as I'm inconsistent in my writing habits and abilities, and in order to move forward in my life I would need to complete a project. My voice box however is armed and cocked (...*cough*...), I just don't know where to take it.

Plausible Solution: Ask for help. I have resources I could exploit. I know people who know things about knowing things. I could ask for assistance from people connected to the field, and people may even give it to me without having to resort to mind-control.

Alternative Solution: Mind control

I must take charge of my life to ensure that I have a future. Perhaps I will get started on that tomorrow.

Pathos and goodwill

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.

Lord Veltha VS Nostalgia

Updates, updates, updates.

I haven't been on Blogger for some time now. I could look up when my last post was, but by that time I'd lose focus and never find my way back to actually writing a new post.

The Astonishing Dude seems to have all but stopped. I seem to have caught the Suck-Virus (if that sounds disgusting, believe me, it is. I don't understand how so many people can live life without being awesome.) and have trouble with minor things such as dialing phones, sending emails, or making it to the library to check out books that I've had on hold until the hold expires (I did finally get one though! It's, uhh... "Stitches" by David Small, and frankly I'm not sure I'm ready to read it. I should probably take it back.) Hopefully I won't have The Suck for much longer, but it seems to be keeping me indoors a lot. Even when I am able to communicate with someone it's fine while it lasts, but immediately afterwords blah blah blah angst no need to get into that muck.

My mediocre career as a voice actor flickers on though. I've recently been cast in the role of Sandayu "The Old Guy" Asama in the Naruto The Abridged Series Movie. In a super roundabout way, as things tend to fall, I auditioned for minor roles in Sonic Abridged, a guy said NTAS was lookin' for someone, and lo and behold I got the part. I have yet to actually get in touch with Vegeta3986, but I must have patience (Not everyone is as burdened with having excessive quantities of free time as myself. Woe is me.) and in time I will be killed by a ninja train (Yes, the train itself is a ninja. It hurls more kunai then anyone else and kills the most people. It might not be the most stealthy assassin what with being a train and all, but hey... this is Naruto we're talking about. they don't actually place a heavy emphasis on stealth.)

I'm writing again. It's been a while. While this is wonderful news considering I'm at my most attuned with greatness when I'm clacking away at a keyboard telling stories that in all likelihood will never reach the eyes of readers, I'm not... actually... uh...

You see, the thing is... this thing I'm writing, while it's great I'm writing it... it's... uh... well, it's it's it's... fan-fiction.

You have to understand. I have horrible associations with fan-fiction on at least two counts. No.1 is quality. I realize that not everyone writes as terribly as the admittedly funny and equally grammatical-aneurysm inducing freakfest of "My Immortal" (of which I have only read about on TVtropes.org and decided I'm not in the right state of mind to read the actual... thing.) but I tend to associate fan-fiction with crap. I'm not saying anything I write is any better (I'm just gracious enough to hide it from anyone and everyone), and I'm sad to admit there are fan-produced works that are better than anything I do, I'm saying that this is my association.

No.2 is more personal. I have this overwhelming need to make something of myself and do things that I deem "Productive." I have no real direction in life, so I don't fully understand how I classify something as productive, but it seems to correspond to busy work I feel good doing. I have this grand scheme that some of my work falls into, but I know full well that this plot will never come to fruition. I'm just working for the sake of working and daydreaming that something good will come of it. With that said; working on an project comprised of unoriginal ideas that I cannot use to further my rhetorical goals seems like a waste of time. It does keep me writing though, and any time spent writing can't be considered a waste of time. It makes me happy. It gets my limited capacity for creativity flowing. It keeps my mind off of other issues. All is well.

Even my doodles are going the way of parody. I'm halfway through my series of AWESOME Luke doodles, depicting how A New Hope would be different if Luke Skywalker didn't suck. The best description I've heard was that this is what Star Wars would be like if Happy Noodle Boy were Luke, which brought me no end of amusement. I originally started doodling again as a way to express my neurotic thoughts, which I continue to do when I come across a thought I'm able to make fun of, but now it's mostly AWESOME Luke (and I do feel the need to capitalise awesome, which may be another neurotic thing.) The idea came about one day as I was walking about daydreaming about Sonic The Hedgehog, as usual, when I started casting Sonic characters as Star Wars roles. After about half an hour of debate I cast Sonic as Luke and laughed at the thought of Luke being awesome. Then the doodles began of AWESOME Luke, and soon after I caved in to the urge to actually write what I'd originally been daydreaming about.

So now everything I'm doing revolves around fandom and parody. My voice acting, writing, and doodles.

I have learned something about myself though. I've learned that nostalgia plays a key role in my life. I learned this while browsing Overclocked Remix. Most of the songs on my MP3 player are either punk covers of old songs, or video game OSTs and remixes. I only listen to songs I've heard before. I have trouble getting into new music. I don't listen to the radio, and when it's on I tend to tune it out. When friends on Facebook post videos of their favorite bands I listen, but I don't feel any connection. Even ripping CDs for Mom I occasionally say, "You know, the rhythm, the melody, everything here is something I would like... but I don't."

Video games are the same way. If I play a new game in a series it feels... wrong. I couldn't get into Sonic Advance, and even Sonic Rush (which is now one of my favorite games) felt odd at first because I'm so used to playing the Genesis titles over and over until I play them by heart the way someone sings a song by heart. When people sing do they remember the words? When I sing the words just flow out. Come the second or third verse I have to remember the first line, but then the rest pours out naturally and I'm not even sure i know what I'm singing. That's how I play video games, and Sonic especially. Ratchet & Clank Future: A Crack In Time came out recently. Now, when I got Tools of Destruction it had been a good few years since I played the previous games, and I'd only played through each of them once or twice. When CiT came out I decided to go through all of the games in order before I picked it up at the store. It'd been a long time since I played through the series, so I had nothing memorised, but when I saw things I recalled seeing them before, almost like deja vu. Once I started playing CiT things felt weird. There may be a few cosmetic differences, but every R&C game is pretty much the same. The thing that felt odd wasn't that the game was new, it was that I didn't remember it. I need things to be familiar. I don't respond well to change.

I might be getting a psychological evaluation soon. My therapist asked me last week if I'd ever had one. She felt terrible that she hadn't asked sooner. She also apologized a lot because she didn't want me to feel like there was something "wrong" with me. I know there's nothing "wrong," but I also know there's a whole lot keeping me from being "right," and I'd like to have a better understanding of what that is.

I played Commodore 64 last night for the first time in years. It felt great, even though I died without getting any farther in The Amazing Spider-Man than I have before (Drowning in dookie water.) Batman: The Caped Crusader is just as impossible as I remember, but a lot funnier ("You got the A Fried Egg.") I also suck at Kings of the Beach now, which was never the case before. My reaction time is completely shot. I'm thinking about hooking up my Genesis, even though most of the games I own I've been playing on PS2. The feel of a classic controller can't be emulated.

"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.

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.

Rules of the Game

(The other day before I started this blog I wrote down a list of Things I Gotta Do In Order To Be MORE Awesome and then paper clipped it to the Hotwheels display thing I've got on my door that makes for rather stylish bulleten board. It's basically a set of guidelines that will help me with my day-to-day struggles with life, the universe, and everything. In theory, if I follow these steps I should be less depressed and more eager to conquer the world. This is what I came up with. They're written in the second person for my own reference. I'm not telling you what to do, so don't feel obligated to improve your way of life. Not that your life needs improving. I didn't say that. This is just for me to help me be a better me. Chances are if you tried to be me you'd screw up. Not that you're a screw up, just that... you're... not... me. I'm a shut up now. Disclaimer over.)

• Laugh! At self... of course. The worse things get the louder you laugh. Sorrow's okay, but always wrap it up with a joke.
• Accept! Things won't always work out the way you want. See above. Things will be okay. Do not dwell! Do not lose courage! DO NOT LOSE HOPE! For example: Just because you didn't sleep doesn't mean you won't sleep. It's okay to say, "If I don't sleep tonight it's okay," but it'd be better if you just didn't think about it. How many people actually think about how they're going to sleep? Accept past and present. The future hasn't happened.
• Pay Attention! I know you zone out and sometimes it seems impossible to focus. See above. Make the effort. Take charge. Try your best, but don't be hard on yourself if you can't. Again... see above.
• Don't Think! Have faith in your talent to be you. Things have a way of working out. You are naturally awesome! Just don't let it go to your head. See above.
  

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.