Thursday, October 09, 2014

What If There Were a New Freakazoid! Series?


And what the deuce would a 21st century Freakazoid! series contain? Over at Ralph Dibny, Rafa Rivas really expended the time and effort in to envision such an occurrence. Check out his concepts on story and artwork, as Rafa combines a little Bruce Timm with a lot of Tom Ruegger to bring us new adventures of the super teen extraordinaire.

On a more sober note, health issues continue to zap me like a small man with electric fingers. And while the general trend is upwards, the journey contains side roads, detours, and messy spills that don't bear public discussion. But my spirits are good, my wife an angel, my family and friends of service, and I don't need a doughnut to sit on just yet.

Monday, September 29, 2014

I Return and Give you a New Kevinn Gomez Podcast with Paul Rugg

Image: Voodoo Rules
Incredible medical adventures: pain, drugs, baffling complications, and a nurse who pronounced "nausea" as "nocha."

As I slowly recover, tuck into this interview with Friends in Hell podcaster Kevinn Gomez chatting with voice-over and animation ace Paul Rugg. Learn more about Freakazette and the voice actors who backed the Guy With Lighting in His Hair.

http://kevinn-gomez-9.podomatic.com/entry/2014-09-24T12_49_07-07_00


Monday, September 22, 2014

I Go But Leave The Pilfered Gnome

Dame Medicine holds me in her sterile clutches, so no posts for a few days. Until my return, I present you an excerpt from a young adult mystery series posted a few years back.

Jimmy Lee Caper: Jerkwad Teen Detective by Preston Haggis.)

Volume VI: The Pilfered Gnome

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Jimmy Lee Caper - rude, selfish, junior detective.

Elmo Montpelier - Jimmy's best friend, an affable, young hunchback.

Professor Lincoln Mancrisp - Stern headmaster of Quillham Academy; addicted to pizza rolls.

Hannah Hooverton - Jimmy's clever, ambitious classmate.

Dr. Thane Blackingham - Eerie, mysterious owner of a tall dark tower.

——————————————————————————————————————————

CHAPTER ONE

WHO IS RESPONSIBLE?

"I wonder what the old creep wants now?" said Jimmy, rapping sharply on Professor Mancrisp's office door.

"He sounded mad," whispered Elmo."I think this time we're really gonna get it."

"Don't be such a baby, Mount McKinley."

Elmo rubbed his hunchback defensively. "Do you have to call me that?"

"Yeah, I do. There's an alp growing out of your back."

 The door swung open and Professor Mancrisp towered over the boys, a pizza roll stuck in his great red beard. "Enter, young gentlemen. We're going to discuss a missing lawn gnome. I hope for your sakes that you didn't take it.

Exchanging worried glances, Jimmy and Elmo entered the Professor's cluttered office. They sat upon stacks of books while the professor cleared space on his desk, shoving aside a microwave oven and several pepperoni pizza roll boxes. Perching on a desk corner, the professor wiped away the dangling roll from his beard and grasped a long ash cane. "I want answers."

"Or what?" sneered Jimmy.

Professor Mancrisp smacked the cane down on his desk. "Don't cross me, Mr. Caper, or I'll beat you so hard you'll wail like an old Cheyenne squaw at a massacre."

Elmo pondered the professor's complex threat as Jimmy said weakly, "Better not," Jimmy respected brute force and knew from bitter experience the Professor wasn't bluffing. And for that, he'd pay back Professor Mancrisp someday in a coin of woe.

"The Great Gnome of Quillham has gone missing,"said the professor. "It was last seen yesterday evening in its customary place before the administration building. This morning, one of your peers, Miss Hooverton, reported it missing.

"Ha," snorted Jimmy. "Hanna's nose is browner than a turd. She probably swiped it so she could report it missing and win suck-up points with the teachers."

"Hanna wouldn't do that," cried Elmo."She's kind and decent."

"What do you know, mountain back?"

Professor Mancrisp pointed the ash cane at Jimmy. "That sounds like another hunchback insult. Apologize to Mr. Montpelier."

"Oh, Jimmy was just kidding. It doesn't bother me," said Elmo as Jimmy mumbled something vaguely apologetic. Elmo smiled politely,  but in his mind he crafted an image of Jimmy with one foot caught in a storm grate as a fiery iron mallet descended from the sky, smashing Jimmy Caper into flaming, bloody chunks.

The Professor frowned. "Why do you pal around with him, Mr. Montpelier? He insults you, borrows money that he never repays, and often puts a football under the back of his shirt, the better to mock you. Don't you deserve better?"

 Elmo shrugged. "My Auntie says it's a moral test: if I can hang out with Jimmy all through Quillham, there isn't anything I can't do in life. And after graduation, she'll pay for an operation to remove my hump. At least she says she will. Nothings on paper."

"That's the way it goes," sneered Jimmy in a mocking sing-song.

The professor sighed, seemed about to comment, but shrugged and said, "In any case, that plaster Gnome with its vacant politician's smile, has stood upon the lawns of Quillham for 113 years. It is part of our rich heritage. Now suddenly it's gone. What do you know, Mr. Caper?"

"Man, I didn't take your stupid Gnome. But I'll bet I could learn who did. I bet I could find out before you."

"Really, Mr. Caper? I admit, you've had some success solving small mysteries around here. A few people think you're a young Sherlock Holmes."

"Who's that?"

"Skip it. But I think you've benefited from blind luck and observant companions."

"That's a load," yelled Jimmy. "I'm the smart one. I'm the one who figures things out. And I'll find that gnome and you'll look as dumb as an old wino eating pizza rolls under a bridge."

With a whistling crack, the professor brought the ash cane down on Jimmy's hand.

"Owww! What was that for?"

"Metaphorical insults count the same as real ones. Very well, Mr. Caper. Locate the gnome and we'll discuss our respective intelligence later."

Jimmy smirked. "What do I get for finding it?"

Professor Mancrisp held up the ash cane. "Think more along the lines of what you won't get."

Outside the faculty building, Jimmy and Elmo walked quickly, pulling Quillham blazers tight around their collars in the crisp autumn air. Jimmy seethed, shaking his sore hand. "Where does that old fart get off hitting me?"

"I don't know," said Elmo, still enjoying the moment, relishing the hours he'd replay it in his mind.

 Jimmy seemed mystified. "Nothing sticks to him. I've ratted the professor out to Child Protective Services for beating me with that stick. I've planted kiddie porn on his computer and called the feds. I've told the cops he was an old fruit who tried to queer me. I swear, the guy is made of Lucite. Stuff that's worked with every teacher, parent, child psychologist, social worker, and counselor just slides off old Mancrisp. What's worse, he's becoming a hero to other adults. I gotta find a way to pull the plug on Professor Pizza Roll."

Elmo struggled to keep up with Jimmy."What about the gnome?"

"How the hell should I know? You got five?"

Elmo handed him a new five-dollar bill. "Thanks, McKinley," said Jimmy as he jogged across the quad, away from the hunchback. "I'm gonna get a burger at the student center. Why don't you ask around, see what we can dig up on the gnome. Are we cool?"

"Hey, no problem," called Elmo to Jimmy's back. For a brief moment, he wished he could mentally kill people like in Firestarter, but the impulse passed and Elmo wearily waddled off toward the administration building.

He saw Hannah and waved. She waved back. Elmo started toward her but was suddenly struck on the head by a water balloon, dropped from a nearby tall mysterious tower.  Drenched, Elmo examined the remains of the balloon.

It was then he found the note.

A moment after he realized the balloon hadn't been filled with water.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Medical Madness Multiplies; Paul Rugg Podcasts


As mentioned back in July, medical maladies mount up with massive malevolence. Why so coy? Why not name my poison? Why so much stinking alliteration?

Because of commerce.

My health care runs out shortly and medical expenses mount. However my niece has a flair for business and suggested that I Kickstart a light-hearted, yet helpful, book project about my ongoing health issues. Top contributors could receive some heady, if offbeat, premiums.

I'm seriously mulling this over. If I decide, I will make an announcement in two weeks, depending, of course, on my health.

Meanwhile, in the world of podcast improvisation, Paul Rugg and troupe aired their first episode last Wednesday. Many fine laughs were provided free of charge. From a technical stand-point, I found streaming on the blog to be smoother than clicking onto the provided link. But one must factor in that my laptop is so old it runs on pine knots. Nevertheless, Paul and company will return on October 15th with an as-yet-unnamed guest.

A bucket of chuckles awaits.

Image: 1Mim.com

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

That Voiceover Improv Thing Premiers Tomorrow

I'm assured that a microphone with rays will be used.



At 8:00 PM Pacific Time, to be exact. Listen as Paul Rugg, Eric Bauza and other comedic improv and voice over actors take suggestions and run with them as if they were in a fine theater. Only they'll be podcasting. Other than that, there's no difference. No real difference. Name one, if you can.

Listen, oh, listen here.

Image: Fineart America

Monday, September 15, 2014

Paul Rugg Challenges Dalai Lama on Behalf of "Little Book."

He could have sat on the sidelines, but no, my friends. Paul Rugg has hurled himself into the whirlwind, joining myself and others in again beseeching His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama to review The Little Book of Big Enlightenment. Rugg wished "Mr. Lama" to know:

Nihil Obstat


"JP Mac's The Little Book Big Enlightenment will change your life...as it has mine. I'll give you an example: this morning when I woke up I didn't cry uncontrollably at the thought of facing another day. Instead I turned to page 32 of The Little Book Of Big Enlightenment and used one of its many helpful tips to find inner peace. Then I had coffee. Then I wrote a poem. Then I paid some delinquent bills."

And there's more over at Froynlaven

In the news, the Dalai Lama has just called for an inter-faith conference in India. How long do you think that took? A minute, maybe. ('Why don't we have an inter-faith conference right here in the sub continent? Okay? Make it so.') While waiting for inter-faiths to gather, His Holiness could be reading The Little Book of Big Enlightenment, because it is a very fast read. His wisdom will make a wise, but short, book even wiser. (But no shorter.)

Contact the 14th DL at:

Office: ohhdl@dalailama.com

Website Feedback:  webmaster@dalailama.com

Ask him nicely if he'll please review The Little Book of Big Enlightenment. Oh, and His Holiness has a spokesman named Galek Namgyal. That's probably who you'll end up talking to . . .  Galek the Gatekeeper. 

Don't be rude. Don't giggle at his name. However insist that Galek earn his soup by passing on your review request to the DL.

I mindfully thank you. Enjoy some kale.



Office: ohhdl@dalailama.com

Website Feedback:  webmaster@dalailama.com - See more at: http://writeenough.blogspot.com/2014/09/dalai-lama-challenged-to-review-little.html#sthash.rfMwkl2y.dpuf
Office: ohhdl@dalailama.com

Website Feedback:  webmaster@dalailama.com - See more at: http://writeenough.blogspot.com/2014/09/dalai-lama-challenged-to-review-little.html#sthash.rfMwkl2y.dpuf
Office: ohhdl@dalailama.com

Website Feedback:  webmaster@dalailama.com - See more at: http://writeenough.blogspot.com/2014/09/dalai-lama-challenged-to-review-little.html#sthash.rfMwkl2y.dpu

Hollywood Slush Pile: They Came In Little Cars

From two years ago, this is a slightly augmented version of my last—to date—offering from the Slush Pile.
 
(Here is the third edition of a series exploring the quarter million unsolicited screenplays that perish each year, passed over and forgotten along with their authors. This week we examine a work that sought to explore the depths of paranoia, but just didn't.)

“Dawn and a small Oregon town sleeps deeply like a sloppy drunk on New Year’s day. Suddenly the early morning peace is split by the sound of many tiny engines. 

Then they appear. 

A young women out jogging is the first to see them, riding out of the mist. She screams a forlorn scream of terror and despair and a darker emotion too primal to name but sometimes heard in Costco. 

But it is too late. 

They are many. 

They are Shriners. 

And they have come to rule.” 

Image: betterphoto.com
 
The above passage was taken from an outline prepared by Lisa Manly-Guam. Author of the screenplay, They Came in Little Cars, (originally titled Mark of the Fez). Manly-Guam was a 24-year-old activist from Salem, Oregon. Other than writing this cryptic photo play, she remains a cipher. All we know for certain is that Lisa believed passionately in odd things.

One of her outrĂ© fears involved a patriarchal coup undertaken by the Shriners, an offshoot of the Masons. Formed as a fraternal order in 1870, the Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine, or Shriners, are noted for charitable works, wearing silly hats and riding little cars in parades. In Manly-Guam’s opus, they are the hidden hand behind the world’s ills, infiltrating politics and banking; biding their time, tugging strings from the shadows.

And then one day they strike.

 In her 1997 tale, the small town of Pine Head, Oregon is overrun by a Shriner horde. Shocked citizens cannot escape and must endure a reign of enforced fun. Our protagonist is the same jogger from the outline, Jenny Loam. In the wake of invasion, she find herself isolated as her parents and siblings embrace the Shriner ethos of good times and service. Loam stays silent, outwardly complying, even joining a Shriner women’s auxiliary, the Daughters of the Nile.

But inwardly, she vows to throw off the Shriner yoke.

Eventually Loam forms a guerrilla band, obtains automatic weapons and ambushes the Shriners at their weekly parade. Steel-jacked slugs riddle the invaders. Little cars crash, bursting into little flames. The Shriners attempt to fight back, hurling water balloons, but they are cut down like bunch grass. The film ends on a close shot of a bloody fez.

Registered with the Writers Guild of America West, Manley-Guam's screenplay landed at Sun Nova Pictures, a small independent production company. The coverage was puzzled.

      “The Shriner Menace failed to deliver. They came across as goofy but benign.”

     “Didn’t the Shriners build a hospital in Pine Head? Killing them sends a mixed message.”
        
     “Perhaps the story would make more sense if Jenny’s parents were maimed by a little car.”

Out of the slush pile and into the wastebasket.

No more is know about the subsequent life of Lisa Manly-Guam and her Shrinerphobic epic. She remains anonymous. But that happens. Unknown authors are as common in this town as…well…unknown screenplays.

But now a lost tale has finally been told.

Free Republic