Noise in the Shape of Writing

Dark as in it's over, done, shuttered for another year!

And it was an unmitigated success!

Thank you Eleanor for letting me do it again.
Thank you Scott and Steve for cooking the Saturday and Sunday meals.
Thank you Morgan for volunteering to do the recycling.
Thank you everyone who took a bag of trash back with them.
Thank you to those who provided rides for others.

No one left anything I would deem "irreplaceable", so unless you know you left something I am not going to bother listing them (ie. half empty toothpaste tubes, etc).

THINGS I LEARNED FROM MAXICON 6:

Allowing a bunch of kids to run around your backyard acting like Mario and Luigi and throwing balls, frisbees and plastic bags into the bushes for two hours is great fun and far too tiring for one man and one kid to do.

People from Hollywood like to sing. A lot.

If I invite more than 20 kids I should hire a clown.

If you give people a serious topic, some rules of debate and enough beer, they will eventually have 14 year olds on really tall stairways intended to lure old folks and illegal immigrants up to the sky in order to stuff them into holes in the ozone layer thus solving world oil dependency and music piracy.

My daughter is a very good GM.

It should be a clown that also likes gaming so he doesn't turn evil later and kill everyone.

4:30 is a magical hour that is aparently ancestrally imprinted onto gamer genes cause every year that seems to be when the last game ends (whether it's ping pong, evil dead 2 or something else).

Guitar Hero kicks ass and is the only enjoyable way to acquire carpal tunnel.

The Cremaster Cycle makes no more sense on DVD than it does in a movie theater.

The "6" in MaxiCon 6 apparently refers to the number of pieces of furniture that get broken.

The evil clown can kill people as long as they were one of the ones who broke something.

THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING!

And I kid, though, cause I know very well that holding a 50 hour party at my house is a crazy thing to do and I do it cause I love it.

Pat.

Related, they are.

1) The feeling of physically working hard all day from sun up to sundown (and then several hours more until midnight). No computer work, just backbreaking labor. Okay, weeding, pulling up bushes, raking, mowing, fixing, moving things, breaking things and general cleaning. It's amazing how I was able to keep going from 6am to midnight on Sunday -- it was like I had a second wind everytime I switched to a new chore. Made me want to consider construction work. Okay, not that much really.

2) The feeling of an impending party. A big one. In case it doesn't show, I like to host things and manage multi-faceted projects involving entertainment. I have been waking up earlier and feeling more refreshed than ever. Or perhaps it's the adrenaline.

Anyway, I need to find some way to bottle these feelings.

I just got my 5th sketch in a row turned down. And this one was in my opinion a "shoo in". As usual, I am presently feeling that very quiet, queasy sensation that always follows such news. That internal, noone-else-can-tell-I'm-hurting feeling. It's like having diarhea. You are suffrering but you're not anxious to tell anyone. You know it sucks, but it's not like the world is going to end. You tried and you'll try again. But it sucks. It's a very personal battle waged in isolation and a very personal pain borne alone. But the battle is the fun part. The getting published (or performed) is fun as well, but it's as fleetingly wonderful as the refusal is fleetingly painful.

So here is my sketch...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

> Here’s Yer Pills
> By Pat Mannion
>
> A man approaches a Medicare counter. Behind him in line, Dick
> Cheney awaits his turn.
>
> PHARMACIST
> I’m sorry, sir. The deadline for Medicare registration has passed.
> You’ve had PLENTY of time to file for Medicare. The date was
> CLEARLY communicated to the senior community.
>
> CHENEY
> [pounding chest] Freaking WONDERFUL time for the old heart to flare
> up.
>
> Cheney dons flimsy beard disguise before approaching the counter.
>
> PHARMACIST
> Next!
>
> CHENEY
> I know I missed the deadline, but --
>
> President Bush barges into the room – putting on a pharmacist’s lab
> coat -- with Secret Service in tow.
>
> DUBYA
> Excuse me. I’m the President here to see FIRST HAND what kind of
> LOSERS missed the deadline. [laughs] I mean, I’m here to
> “initialize a dialogue” with our ageing seniors – the one’s who
> missed the boat. Hey, do you like the smock? Overstock-dot-com! [to
> the line] Next!!
>
> CHENEY
> Oh god. This is going to go badly.
>
> DUBYA
> Forgetful old geezer -- What can I do for you?
>
> CHENEY
> Old geezer!!? Why I’ll old geezer you!
>
> DUBYA
> [aside] See? This one’s got spunk! He probably doesn’t even NEED
> drugs.
>
> Cheney coughs. His chest is giving him trouble.
>
> [under his breath] Remain calm. Remain calm!
>
> DUBYA
> [leading] Can I help you?
>
> CHENEY
> [out of breath] Pills! I need pills!
>
> DUBYA
> [snatching away a bottle of pills] Ah. You see, the federally
> mandated deadline for registering your Medicare preferences passed
> at midnight, May 15th. [speaking as if Cheney is deaf] That’s…
> LAST… NIGHT…!
>
> CHENEY
> Come on. We all know that’s a bunch of bullshit. People can get
> pills. There’s always a way to GET PILLS! [lunges for pills]
>
> DUBYA
> [moving the pills again] Now, see, that’s exactly what the old Ball-
> And-Cheney warned me about. “Revamp the Medicare rules!” he says.
> “Let those old farts get a taste -- "
>
> CHENEY
> [overlapping] -- get a taste of death and then they’ll be BEGGING
> for privatized healthcare. I know, I know! [under his breath]
> Dammit, I wrote the fucking thing. [to Bush] Now gimme the pills!
>
> DUBYA
> [walking away with them] Smart little bastard, ain’t he. I could
> use someone like him in my administration. [Cheney mugs] You see,
> fella, here’s how it works: Soon-To-Be-Extinct-Americans like
> yourself NEED pharmaceutical companies to keep their evil, greedy
> little hearts running; and Republicans need drug company money AND
> evil, greedy little retired VOTES to keep them in office; so
> basically old codgers like the Vice President NEED the drug
> companies as much as WE do!
>
> CHENEY
> I am not an old codger!!
>
> DUBYA
> Good point. The VP looks a LOT older than you. [beat] Now, just
> fill out this Late Charge Penalty Form and we can process your
> order --
>
> CHENEY
> Fuck the Penalty Charge Form, I need –
>
> Cheney doubles over. It’s his heart again.
>
> DUBYA
> What was that?
>
> CHENEY
> Nothing. The form, the form, dammit.
>
> DUBYA
> [offering the form] Good choice. Speaking of choices, we offer a
> wide array of programs including Merck, Pfizer, Pfizer-Merck, Merck-
> Pfizer and ANY of a hundred other products that start with Pfizer
> or Merck.
>
> CHENEY
> Here’s your damn form.
>
> DUBYA
> Leapin’ lizards, this is a big order. I’m going to have to call my
> boss on this one. [removing his cellphone]
>
> CHENEY
> Yeah, you call your damn boss! [realizing] Oh shit. [answering his
> phone] Hello?
>
> Cheney blurts “yeah”/“whatever” over most of Bush’s next line.
>
> DUBYA
> Decider Number 2? I’ve got a senior citizen here -- looks to be 90,
> 95 [Cheney grimaces] -- wants a buttload of pain killers. Doesn’t
> seem to be in pain, but he is being a big pain in the butt. [smiles
> at Cheney] You think we can cover his order?
>
> CHENEY
> Do it!
>
> DUBYA
> Congratulations old fella. Here’s yer prescription. Oh, and --
> [reaching] your beard is on crooked.
>
> CHENEY
> You knew? [Dubya chuckles & nods] Why’d you give me these then?
>
> DUBYA
> You’re a lot more fun on pills.
>
> The two smile and “freeze frame” like then ending of an old “Odd
> Couple” episode.
>
> BLACKOUT

I've had a lousy streak lately as far as getting my sketches performed. I write my ass off on Mondays and for the past 2 and a half months NOTHING has gotten picked to be performed at our weekly sketch show at the IO West.

It has caused some soulsearching and I've come to the conclusion that A) I've been writing some goofy stuff, and B) some other people have been writing some top notch stuff.

So why have I not been bringing my A-game? Mostly cause I have been busy getting involved in things again. I do that as a force of habit -- no, it's better than that -- it's a compulsion. I can't resist a good offer of a creative project.

I also write compulsively. I just can't go a week without writing something. Which is far better than last year when I was in the writing doldrums.

I think it's just that I suffer from "Feedbackophilia". I just need to know that my writings are being read or seen performed. Nothing like a good spate of comments generated by a blog entry. It's almost as good as a round of applause at the theater.

I want something more, though. I need a new forum. I feel a great desire to perform some wordletting. Like a bloodletting, but less likely to make me faint.

Maybe a screenplay is in order.

After you die... the Beetlejuice Waiting Room After death, you will end up in an overcrowded waiting room sitting beside Beetlejuice. You've been given the number 736 076 827 378 919 023, but they are currently serving number 3. Good Luck.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

I suppose I could have retaken it and tried to score dead center, but it's interesting enough that I was ANYWHERE near the middle. I just hope I don't end up sitting next to that head shrinker dude.