Mental Flotsam, Mental Jetsam

Because the only thing that beats going crazy is going crazy with somebody else

Monday, April 28, 2008

A Strange Source For Relevant Insight


With a smidge of spare time this weekend (between social obligations, trying to write and spending time w/ Shawna) I finished off The Tick live-action series, courtesy of Hulu. The show is silly, very pointless, and fun. I maintain that the cartoon was better, but the live-action show has its merits.

One of them came the 3rd-to-final episode. Arthur and the Tick are in court prosecuting Destroyo, an iron-clad supervillain they apprehended in a parking lot after accidentally rear-ending him w/ the Batmanuelle-mobile. (That's a mouthful.)

The case doesn't start well. Destroyo is his own legal counsel and quickly invalidates the nuclear weapons found in his trunk as inadmissable; as they were found without a proper warrant. Slick guy, Destroyo.

The Tick is rapidly found in contempt of court until it occurs to him to break out: Being super-strong, the prison bars give way to the Tick like wet Kleenex.

Anyway. The reason this exercise in court farce is being mentioned is the following: Arthur, ever level-headed, does some digging into Destroyo's past and finds his Achilles' heel. He gives the following speech on the stand.

"Have I led a full life... That's a good question. I've tried to, but we can't do everything, can we. An old man told me a story once, about a little boy that loved nothing more than to dance. Well-- except maybe between-meal snacks. That little boy had a choice, like we all do. Follow our dreams, or indulge the bad habits that make those dreams impossible?"

That speech cut me to the quick. Not for Destroyo's indulgence in sweets. My own sweet-tooth only occasionally rears its ugly... tooth. But bad habits? Making one's dreams impossible?

New York is an expensive city in which to live. That has been one of the most sobering lessons I've learned in my short tenure here. And while I've been spendthrift in the past, Manhattan and its surrounding burroughs have frankly bled me dry and then some.

My best friend, Chris aka Pedro; is very much like the Ant. He's smart, he's frugal and he has a plan. Compared to him I am very much the Grasshopper.

I'm trying to do better. Truly. Nevertheless you would be amazed at how easy it is to forget yourself, come payday. So; that's the bad habit. The dream? Putting my shows up in New York.

Oh, certainly I still have ambitions of being on stage again; but that particular fate is at the whim of casting agents and directors. Putting a show on (again) would be in my control. Sort of. One of the things keeping that from happening would be a complete lack of funds. I'm working on it, and likewise tracking down non-personal funding of a non-loan variety, this time. Being a bit smarter about it. Thank goodness for networking.

However, to be frank, putting my shows up is scarcely the only ambition hindranced by a lack of funds. There are classes I'd like to take, for which I am on waiting lists; that I presently cannot afford. The comic book I'm writing and producing will also require money. Discipline. That iron-spined word that seems so damned elusive, sometimes. Getting these things is going to require discipline.

I'm reading a book on loan from Shawna. I, Lucifer, by Glen Duncan. Striking concept;
the Devil tells his side of the story and gets a movie deal out of it. (The actual film, starring Daniel Craig, is in the pipeline.) I'm a good bit into the book so far; and the one accomplishment of which Old Scratch is proudest is this: Establishing the bond between bad behavior and pleasure. Instant gratification, breaking the rules; doing what you shouldn't feels good. And thus was born Sin. Jerk.

Would I be so very deep in the red if it wasn't a fun trip down? Would ice cream be so popular (despite its fatty content) if it didn't taste so good? Foolish questions posed by a fool parted from his money.

So. There that is.

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