'Nam Killed Kurt Over Time v. 6

 

 

 

Photo: Life Magazine. Kurt's unit patrolled these hills. (Mutter's Ridge and the Rock Pile.) 

Some veterans die in battle while others return home to perish on the installment plan. My friend Kurt passed away in 2003 from liver cancer. He went quick, maybe a hundred days. The cancer was partially brought about by PTSD-inspired drinking coupled with hepatitis from a bad blood transfusion he underwent in Vietnam. Kurt could have skated on that particular war, but extended his enlistment in order to fight. Serving in Marine Recon, he won a Navy Commendation medal for helping his unit battle clear of an ambush.

Several Purple Hearts later, Kurt joined an ultra-secret outfit that probed the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos. Hacked out of the jungle, the Trail was a highway for the North Vietnamese to funnel men and supplies into South Vietnam and Cambodia. Because of our odd political posturing, Laos was officially off-limits to U.S. ground forces. That meant Kurt and his unofficial comrades were forced to ditch the bodies of their dead. The fallen would be listed as "Missing in Action in South Vietnam." It always bothered Kurt that families would be denied the closure of burial—or the recognition of bravery from a schizophrenic government.

A good portion of Kurt's post-war years were spent in alcohol and drug-fueled rage and self-destruction. In time, he made peace with his past. Little by-little, Kurt cut a trail over to serenity from which he rarely strayed. Despite a Master's Degree in electronics, he took a job driving a truck and fixing vending machines. (Kurt worked well unsupervised.) Getting married, buying a home, his last ten years were good ones.

I was a pallbearer at Kurt's funeral. He received a Marine Corps color guard, taps, and a view of the 2 Freeway stretching below in the distance, flowing past Forest Lawn Cemetery on its way to Eagle Rock. (Transportation played a big role in his life.) I recall Kurt when I drive past and often wish he could call down artillery on erratic drivers.

This Veteran's Day Kurt came to mind. And while he's at peace, I send prayers and best wishes to those still struggling with the silent baggage of war.

Happy Veteran's Day to all who served. You are remembered.

(This is a 2014 repost from Veteran's Day 2010 reposted once more in 2021, and now reposted in 2023.)

 

(And now 2024. I wish I could find the link, but there was a vet on YouTube who'd served in the Special Operations Group (S.O.G.) that conducted missions "over the fence" along the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos and Cambodia. It seems their missions were compromised by North Vietnamese spies employed by S.O.G.—not to mention the Walker Spy Ring—but also the capture of the spy vessel U.S.S. Pueblo by the North Koreans, allowed Russia, a North Vietnamese patron, to access our top secret conversations. Many missions never had a chance.)  

(And now 2025. Nothing to add this year.)

Happy 250 USMC!

 I was present at the 200th birthday shortly before my discharge. And while today the Corps is 50 years older, I was 50 years younger back then. Ah, but that's the way the whole life process deploys. All the best to my fellow Devil Dogs!

 

web.wgpays 

Daffy Duck Awaits His Close Up

A Duck, A Dream, A Powerful Friend, A Dream

 A header most poetic, but here is the old Jack L. Warner footage, dolled up with some modern day editing and closing with a promo for Twin Cities Con, coming up early next month. 

 

John P. McCann Channel 

Jack L. Warner on the Subject of Daffy Duck

Coming Tomorrow 

What Once Was Lost, Now is Found

Found in an old box in VHS form, mangled in the transfer, restored with new images and now presented for your viewing pleasure. The ancient Jack L. Warner footage was part of a pitch to the old WB Network by Paul Rugg, Doug Langdale, and myself. 

 

We thought a primetime Daffy Duck show might be a pleasing venture for Warner Bros. We were incorrect. 

 

However, a portion of the video survives along with a poster for the upcoming Twin Cities Con featuring former Warner TV animation aces Tom Ruegger, Paul Rugg and Paul Dini. I'm listed, but family matters will probably keep me close to home. Stop by Wednesday.

 

Lost Hamster Video Surfaces

'Idaho' Found in Box

 In VHS form from 1997. But now Private Idaho is transferred and ready for 2025 viewing. Under the supervision of Grant Moran, writers Wendell Morris and Tom Sheppard and myself were tasked with preparing a pitch video for a new animated show. The premise revolved around a caged hamster and his dreams of high adventure. Here's what we came up with. According to Grant, "Comedy Central ordered six episodes. WB Animation Business Affairs guy insisted on 11 and wouldn't relent. The deal died. And this was when Comedy Central was half owned by WB. Devastating." I concur.

Happy Independence Day v.2

 I've been a slob, a loafer of the first rank in ignoring this blog. And here I stand, on the brink of 20 years of continuous posts to a select audience. Nevertheless, I present a sampling of past July 4s (and a 5).

The Onion

Memorable July 4th Events

Thanks to the Founding Fathers for sticking their necks out and declaring independence when it was unclear they could back up such a deed. (I recommend David McCullough's book 1776 if you wish to read how the British kicked the American army off Long Island, chased George Washington from New York, and came very close to mopping up his ragged little force.)

History aside, here are several recollections from July 4th past: 

5Ks   

Mark up another one today. (Only 3 miles.) Ran around the golf course at Griffith Park along the soft dirt bridal trails where you rarely see a horse while maneuvering past their rounded droppings. Felt good, no injuries, taking it very slow. In the past, there have been runs and walks in:

2007

2010, 2015

5th of July Party 1981

Close enough for a list. This epic bash saw an entire Hollywood apartment building unite in pursuit of a drunken bash that began around 11:00 AM at the pool, spread from the building, down the block to a bar, back to the building and inside an apartment where it continued until the cops showed up at 3:00 AM. My recollections are fuzzy due to age and staggering drunkenness.

1986

This year, repairs were finally completed on the Statue of Liberty and there was to be a big televised event with more fireworks than Saturday night in the barrio. An old improv friend invited me to a party down near the beach. I'd once had a crush on Lisa. She reluctantly informed me of her gayness. But I still didn't give up, as I'd met women before who were "gay for a day." In any case, Lisa's party was lesbian central. Out of 22 women, only three were straight. One was ill and left early, the other nursed a bad sunburn, and I didn't hit it off with the third. No matter. We all had a grand time watching fireworks over the ocean off Santa Monica. The following year, Lisa moved to Sedona, Arizona with a girlfriend, bought a house, and waited for UFOs to circle Coffee Pot Rock. (I could be wrong about the last part.)

1976

Bi-centennial. A big deal. My sister was attending Western Illinois University. Out in the cornfields, near the Mississippi River, not far from Iowa, stood the little town of Basco. There they made their own fireworks and put on a patriotic pageant every 4th. My girlfriend and I, my sister, and her friends attended. We ended up trashed in some field drinking Grain Belt Beer and watching the fireworks crackle. We all bought tee-shirts that said "Basco 1976." I drove back to the farmhouse my sister was renting, hunched over the wheel, barely able to see.

Horror Book Discount Continues

That's about all the July 4th memories I can salvage for the day , but there's always time to flog a book. Through today and ending Tue. July 5th, Hallow Mass continues to be available in Kindle form for under three dollars. Cool off with a nice chilling horror tale of old grudges, new terrors, and unadorned sorcery. A pleasant weekend to all! 

Winds and Fire Over LA

 

Fires in Altadena burn on the horizon as the wind worsens.

 

Goodnight Everybody! Podcast and I

Goodnight Everybody! was gracious enough to invite me on last night for a chat about things Animaniacs, Freakazoid! and other topics animated, as well as spirited discussions about plums and the odd yearnings of farm animals. Listen in for more.

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https://x.com/JohnPMcCann2/status/1876492106677789179

Justin Trudeau, Ted Danson and Me

 Happy New Year! Here is Halloween long ago, back when I still had a prostate.

Merry Christmas '24!!

 

The Huntsman in "Attack of the Vortex"

On the Freakazoid! series, The Huntsman was noted for his inability to engage with crime due to a downturn in mayhem. As a change of pace, I wrote an episode where The Huntsman found a foe at last, but the studio had other plans.
 

Running Update

 Illness, depression, and various other distractions have served to diminish running. I have a 5k approaching in January and a half-marathon in February and aren't prepared for either. I will have to do what I can in the remaining time. This year has been rocky on the health front and it would be nice to start off '25 strong.

d

 

'Nam Killed Kurt Over Time v. 5

 

 

Photo: Life Magazine. Kurt's unit patrolled these hills. (Mutter's Ridge and the Rock Pile.) 

Some veterans die in battle while others return home to perish on the installment plan. My friend Kurt passed away in 2003 from liver cancer. He went quick, maybe a hundred days. The cancer was partially brought about by PTSD-inspired drinking coupled with hepatitis from a bad blood transfusion he underwent in Vietnam. Kurt could have skated on that particular war, but extended his enlistment in order to fight. Serving in Marine Recon, he won a Navy Commendation medal for helping his unit battle clear of an ambush.

Several Purple Hearts later, Kurt joined an ultra-secret outfit that probed the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos. Hacked out of the jungle, the Trail was a highway for the North Vietnamese to funnel men and supplies into South Vietnam and Cambodia. Because of our odd political posturing, Laos was officially off-limits to U.S. ground forces. That meant Kurt and his unofficial comrades were forced to ditch the bodies of their dead. The fallen would be listed as "Missing in Action in South Vietnam." It always bothered Kurt that families would be denied the closure of burial—or the recognition of bravery from a schizophrenic government.

A good portion of Kurt's post-war years were spent in alcohol and drug-fueled rage and self-destruction. In time, he made peace with his past. Little by-little, Kurt cut a trail over to serenity from which he rarely strayed. Despite a Master's Degree in electronics, he took a job driving a truck and fixing vending machines. (Kurt worked well unsupervised.) Getting married, buying a home, his last ten years were good ones.

I was a pallbearer at Kurt's funeral. He received a Marine Corps color guard, taps, and a view of the 2 Freeway stretching below in the distance, flowing past Forest Lawn Cemetery on its way to Eagle Rock. (Transportation played a big role in his life.) I recall Kurt when I drive past and often wish he could call down artillery on erratic drivers.

This Veteran's Day Kurt came to mind. And while he's at peace, I send prayers and best wishes to those still struggling with the silent baggage of war.

Happy Veteran's Day to all who served. You are remembered.

(This is a 2014 repost from Veteran's Day 2010 reposted once more in 2021, and now reposted in 2023.)

 

(And now 2024. I wish I could find the link, but there was a vet on YouTube who'd served in the Special Operations Group (S.O.G.) that conducted missions "over the fence" along the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos and Cambodia. It seems their missions were compromised by North Vietnamese spies employed by S.O.G.—not to mention the Walker Spy Ring—but also the capture of the spy vessel U.S.S. Pueblo by the North Koreans, allowed Russia, a North Vietnamese patron, to access our top secret conversations. Many missions never had a chance.) 

Happy 249 USMC!

After a three-month absence due to writing and things, I return to wish the United States Marine Corps a happy birthday. Alas, they have not escaped the rot of wokeness, but seemed to have weathered the onslaught better than some of the other services. May they continue to be always faithful.
 Fishing Stage

Ticketmaster Data Breach Update

Twinkl

After an email exchange, a Ticketmaster employee could not explain why my information was on a Ticketmaster website, or third-party cloud, why I couldn't sign up for a year of free credit monitoring services offered by Ticketmaster, and, since there's no record of me even registering for Ticketmaster, when I would be removed from the data base that exposed my data in the first place.

As of Tuesday morning, there has been no word from Ticketmaster.

More t/k.  

Ticketmaster Data Security Breach

 

St. Bonaventure University Online

Ticketmaster sent me a letter that my info had been compromised because of a breach in their security. Here's my email to the company:

Hello,

Received a letter from Ticketmaster stating that some of my personal information may have been compromised by a hack.

Ticketmaster offered credit monitoring via a TransUnion company called Cyberscout.

I logged onto the www.mytrueidentity.com url listed in the letter. However, the website would not allow me to open an account. The website listed a number to call.

Calling the number, I was directed to a call center possibly in Mumbai or elsewhere in the Indian subcontinent. The person attempting to assist me spoke and understood English with some  difficulty. For example, she was unaware that U.S. phone numbers are prefaced with an area code. After a number of attempts, I politely ended the call as we were unable to communicate.

Do you have any suggestions how I might obtain the credit monitoring services offered?

PS: I wasn't aware that I even had a Ticketmaster account. It must be prehistoric.

 

Here's Ticketmaster's response:

Thanks, we’ve received your request

You should receive a reply from one of our Fan Support Representatives in 12 hours, or sooner.

Times may vary depending on volume and demand.

 More t/k

Back from the Northwest

Mount Rainer peeks out from behind the trees on a back-country road in south-central Washington state. 

Back from visiting my sister, who is in the hospital. A long-time MS sufferer, she's recently sustained kidney and nerve damage. The care facility is a mixed bag of outstanding nurses and nurse assistants and odd, ill-trained goons. The doctor in charge is a breezy fellow, according to my sister, who is loath to spend much time with his patients. Possibly it cuts down on his main function: billing Medicare.

More soon as we battle to get my sister the care she needs.

A Big Dish of Peas

An old Internet favorite of Orsen Welles wrangling with a suit over advertising copy.

 

 

Dr Moon Rat

A Hat Trick of Bad Health

 Ever since my return from way down yonder in New Orleans, my health has been many things, none of them positive.

My wife took ill on the plane-ride back to Los Angeles. Naturally, that meant that I would take ill several days hence. Sure enough,  I came down with a bad fever, much worse than COVID. It was like having mononucleosis once more. I slept, napped, woke up, then went to bed. However, I did drop ten pounds, a poor man's weight loss program.

Getty Images

 

Just as the fever abated, I came down with a urinary tract infection. Spending the night peeing out five drops of bloody urine helped eliminate my recent sleep overage. As a male, UTIs often mean trouble in the kidneys and/or bladder. At an UrgentCare, I was given a kidney/bladder ultrasound, a cocktail of antibiotics injected into my butt and a prescription for big plump antibiotic tablets. I took them all, but it felt like the injected obliterated the infection.

So, feeling good, except I noticed a rash developing all over my body. At first, I thought it was some kind of prickly heat. But that night, I woke at 2 AM unable to sleep, because the stinking rash itched like blazes. I pressed the skin, took cold showers, thought of picnics and adorable kittens, but nothing checked the relentless itching.  

And the rash and itching were spreading to unrashed body regions.

Getty Images

 The next day, the dermatologist said I was undergoing a drug reaction to medicine. Ah, but which medicine? The doctor took a pair of biopsies to nail down the culprit. Meanwhile, I was instructed to finish out the plump UTI tablets, then stop taking my normal medication for cholesterol and high blood pressure. Once again, my bottom received another injection—cortisone. The itching diminished that day and the next and the next. Now I must lather my rash daily with a medicinal cream plus pop a pair of over-the-counter medicines. Slowly, the rash fades.

Anyway, several days have passed without me visiting a doctor. I'm delighted. If this keeps up, I might even start running again.

Getty Images

 

Disturbing Good Cheer

Fun? Of a sort. A "festive" figure on greets riverboat passengers dockside along the Mississippi River in New Orleans.

Life in the Big Easy

A ship delivering exceptionally large cigars sails past the French Quarter in New Orleans.

A 10k along the Sand

Back from Ventura and a weekend 10k. The blessed marine layer stayed on until well after I'd completed my 6.2 miles. In addition to a finisher's medal, I placed first in my age group, beating out another old guy who finished second. My wife, Joy, completed her first 10k. We ran the same serene beaches as hosted my 2021 marathon. After admiring the sea, we met a friend of Joy's at a coffee shop, ate a large breakfast then drove home in our sweaty clothes.
 

 

Bemedaled me outside Ventura City Hall.

O.J. and Sgt. Friday in the Same Room

O.J. back in the day, before Naked Gun and double homicide, listens to Sgt. Joe Friday telling it straight.

 

BirthoftheSly

Marvels Pitch Meeting Restarts the Sun

A bit dated, but worth a peek. I love this comic and his inane writer/Hollywood exec. characters. Watch the writer sell the exec. the klunky plot in Disney's The Marvels.

 

Pitch Meeting

Adrift in a Sea of Unfinished Stories v.2

 

uncoverydiscoveryblog

(Eight years later, not much has changed. Though this year I have submitted three shortie short stories with one rejection. David Mamet had a good take on writer procrastination: It's a way of avoiding the writing of a shit first draft. Interesting.)

Haven't finished a short story in over six weeks. Not even a first draft. Zip. I have no idea what I'm waiting for. Certainly not inspiration. Or the perfect metaphor. Or a really ironic Twilight Zone ending. I'm not even pushing the cursor around the screen, filling pages with swill that I'll edit later. Can't be fear. Whatever it is, I'm not producing.

Only a single short story remains under consideration with a magazine. Maybe I should switch to Flash Fiction until this malaise passes. "Death Honk" was fun, a thousand words, and still floating about online in Microliterature. I recall writing it very quickly. Could not other tales be written equally fast?

Back running and walking again, using my new chi running techniques. This morning, a friend called during my post-run stretch. I took the call and finished tasking my hamstrings, realizing that I'd become the person I swore I'd never be: one who combed physical activity and a phone call. At least this transformation took place in Griffith Park and not a gym, where those nearby would be hostages to my infernal chattiness.

Okay. Away. Keep it short.

 

Sea Dentist v.3

 

( From around 14 years ago, a brief example of things I wrote when I wasn't being paid to write—TV animation, that is. I was writing a whopping great amount of marketing copy.)

 (Part one of a Write Enough series on TV animated shows that never quite made it to air.)

With the growing success of "SpongeBob" in 2000, the TV animation industry sought out a nautical-themed show that hopefully would absorb success vapors from the popular Nickelodeon series. The race was on and Cartoon Network appeared to be leading after staff artist Cleve Metapontum pitched a series idea revolving around a rude veterinary dentist who lived aboard ship and serviced various sea creatures—willing and unwilling.

Metapontum had been working as a background artist on I Am Weasel and conceived the idea after an unstable Burbank dentist flung salt water in his face. (There was a law suit, later settled.)

Cartoon Network executive Laudi Krate quickly spotted the potential of "Dentist" and wasted no time calling Atlanta for instructions. A pilot was ordered and Krate told to 'hustle this one along.'

Under pressure, Krate promoted character designer Higgins Benzine to produce. Benzine was controversial. Despite many years in animation, he could not draw an oval head. Worse, he despised Metapontum whom he considered a 'cubicle ape,' lacking the skill to 'draw a game of Hang Man.'

Often great art emerges from a clash of personalities but not this time. After a series of loud arguments and flung pencils, an angry Metapontum produced a dark 22-minute script in which Sea Dentist extracts the teeth of a tiger shark and cements them into the mouth of a harbor seal who then proceeds to kill and eat a wind surfer. Sea Dentist, employed by "The United Nations Sea Counsel," denies having anything to do with the incident and sails to Panama.

Krate was horrified. The script lacked several key elements considered necessary in children's animation. Among them were likable characters, humor, and no wind surfers slashed to pieces. Metapontum defended his script, claiming, "Dentists are really like that. Seriously." More drafts were ordered and eventually the story acquired a child character while deaths were changed to prat falls, and Sea Dentist became 'crusty but lovable.'

Nevertheless, the caustic chemistry between Benzine and Metapontum poisoned the production. Factions formed and artists would lunch with either producer or show creator. So intense was the hatred that artists in the Benzine camp began losing the ability to draw oval heads. Meanwhile, Metapontum supporters voiced a hatred for dentists and oral hygiene in general.

After several contentious months, an episode was completed in which an acerbic but kindly Sea Dentist aids a killer whale by installing a fixed partial denture (or bridge). Later, in a battle with anti-aquatic dental forces, Sea Dentist falls overboard and is saved by the very whale whom he earlier helped. The story and artwork were a compromise enforced by Krate. Metapontum hated having a dentist portrayed in a positive light while Benzine loathed the art work, claiming the oval heads "looked all wrong."

By now, Atlanta was demanding the pilot. In a frenzy, layouts, model sheets, etc. were shipped to a Korean animation house. But no one figured on Benzine. At his own expense, he flew into Seoul and tinkered with the models. As a result, the human characters lacked oval heads. Sea Dentist had a head that was pumpkin-round with what appeared to be a ramp extending out above his right ear.

Krate and Metapontum went ballistic when they saw the footage, but there was no time or budget for retakes. Krate shipped the program to her Cartoon Network bosses with a cover note praising the 'quirky animation that is also iconic in an unspecified way.'

Despite a compelling all-lute music track, the project was mercifully put down. Like The Day the Clown Cried, grainy copies of Sea Dentist circulated quietly throughout the animation world and became the stuff of dystopian legend.

Not surprisingly, Cleve Metapontum, Higgins Benzine and Laudi Crate resurfaced at different studios. And while they would never work together again, this trio was involved with other animated TV shows that managed to miss the airwaves.

Images: fossilsforkids.com and istockphoto

When Shriners Attack v.3

 

(Every seven years or so, I like to repost this nugget from an earlier time.)

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 Tales From The Hollywood Slush Pile 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 outré 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

 

Disney's Prehistoric Business Model

From a few weeks ago, we learn that poor old Walt Disney thought you needed to appeal to parents. Today Disney hires ironwitted wokies and crafts films that appeal to them. A fascinating peek at what no longer exists.

 

Film Threat

Who Can Forget 2013?

Daisie Blog

Most people, myself included. 

Back then I imagined I'd complete 3 fiction ebooks within the year.  These days I am completing one of them, a mystery-thriller about a dystopian Los Angeles--hardly fiction--and a former cop attempting to stop a series of seemingly senseless murders.

First I went through four drafts and printed out material I thought could be shaped into a story. I ended up with a 240 pages of material. Lots of useabale copy. I should have finished this 11 years ago. But I'd feel awful if I never finished it at all.

More soon.

10K Training Update

 

 

Surfers Point 10K

 

A few more weeks before I'm off to Ventura for a fine 6.2 miles. It'll be a nice weekend away for my wife and I and a cool run along the coast. Am I in shape? Not really. I'll finish toward the back of the pack, but we enjoy the town of Ventura and are keen for a little holiday away from life's little stresses.

A Fresh Perspective on Prostate Cancer

Pastor Ray A. McQueen and wife Sharon discuss the trials and tribulations of prostate cancer in another info-rich podcast. Plenty to learn about men's health and how to overcome this cancer's dour side-effects.

  

Prostate Cancer: Real Talk

South Park Story-Telling

 How can the words 'but' and 'therefore' propel storymaking? Find out in a little over two minutes. (Note: I'm experimenting with these words now on a short story. I'll let you know how it goes.)

Filmmaker's Formula

Lester Dent Rocked the Pulp House

 Fun with Fiction Formula

 

Craig McDonald

 

 

 

Crafting a short-story using the plot formula attributed to pulp king Lester Dent. Back in the last century, Dent wrote a veritable oil tanker-load of fiction under various pen names such as Kenneth Roebson. 

You break down a 6k word short story into four 1500 word segments. Add an antagonist, the bad guy's goal, a good guy determined to stop him, but seemingly overwhelmed by the villain's resources. 

But the doomed hero wins out. Toss in a plot twist at the very end, sending the reader away with the warm feeling of not having squandered his time.

In a way, the Dent formula is like constructing IKEA furniture. First assemble all the parts, follow directions, and gaze with pride upon the finished item. 

 

 

James Bama

 

 

Prostate Cancer Affects the Miind and Heart

How Could It Not?

Lot's of manly health areas take an ugly hit from the ravages of prostate cancer. Listen in and find out how to cope with the changes. As I can attest, life goes on and so can you.

 

Prostate Cancer: Real Talk

A 10k in May

 

 

Forgot about this one. Originally slated for late January, the race was cancelled when the state decided to cease all events at the original campground/start line. Naturally, they gave the race organizers little notice.

Now shoved along the Ventura coast a mile or so, this 6.2 mile beach run will be a nice fun event for my wife Joy and I. I've been busy as of late with health issues—like high blood pressure—and have fallen out of shape.

Seven weeks to snap out of my lethargy and prepare.

More soon.

 

A Pulp Title to Cherish

A Golden Story Prompt

What writer couldn't wait to sink his typing into such a challenge? Tempting, oh, so tempting, but I must concentrate on the work before me.

guto

 

 

Not Short Stories Again!

Yes

As in 2009 and 2016. Both times I had specific goals. This go-around,  I intend to publish and LEARN. To teach this old dog a new trick, I've begun on microfiction (stories 100 words or less) and flash fiction (stories under 1k words).

I've always been enchanted by quantity. This time it shall be the oft-discussed quality. Since beginning last month, I've finished a trio of short fiction and sent it off to three publications. I should start hearing back around the end of spring. But the goal now is to continue finishing stories, trying new techniques and new genres.

Like I probably should've done in 2009.

Reedsy.com

Happy Easter 2024!

Wallpaper.com

 A beautiful wind-swept day after another storm. We're enjoying coffee and lemon cake. May your day be blessed plus or minus lemon cake.

What's So Funny About Prostate Cancer?

As a matter of fact, I'll tell you in this interview. El and Shay bring back this bygone episode where we discuss all things prostate.

  

Prostate Cancer: Real Talk

Microfiction: Post-Op Blues

Pinterest

After surgery, few of my friends visit. I can understand why. I'm no longer a good conversationalist. My thoughts are now occupied with peanut butter and living inside the wall and munching wiring. I've already shorted out the toaster with my munching and my wife, who is given to long sad looks, responded with a crisp scolding. 

The doctors call constantly. Or, I should say, their assistants call and ask when I'll return for the rest of the procedure. My wife ferries a cell phone to me outside in the yard, as I now spend hours concealed in the ivy.  

In a high-pitched rapid voice, I inform the doctor's assistants that I feel used, a pawn of the health insurance agencies, since my post-op treatments will require decades of expensive medications and operations. All the pre-op love bombs and encouragement I received from TikTok are meaningless now.

My wife grows distant. She spends hours in the garage watching YouTube videos, then building something long and wooden with steel coils and a large metal bar. 

I can't be tricked. I'm more cunning than ever. But if peanut butter is placed on this device, I'll go it.

Putting the Write Back in Write Enough!

Since When?

The beginning of the year. I've mentioned the immense chasm I've fallen into with unfinished projects. Resolving that 2024 would see this addressed, I decided to clear my desk and approach writing as if I were a yarn ball of bad habits in need of unraveling.

Seeking insights, I signed up for MasterClass. Authors on tap willing to share their knowledge include Neil Gaiman, James Patterson, Joyce Carol Oates, and more. So far, they've been a mixed bag.

Lots of encouragement, personal tales, and philosophy, but I needed child-simple, A-B-C, this-is-what-to-do examples. I believe I've found same on YouTube with writer Kieren Westwood.

If you're wrestling with wordsmithing, you could do a lot worse. Westwood details his own struggles, his mistakes, what he did to correct him, sloppy writing habits and ways to rectify those flaws. Westwood also offers his own editing and critique service for short fiction and novel extracts. 

No kickback for me, other than sound, straight-forward writing advice. Below is Westwood demonstrating ways to add depth to your fiction.

 

Kieren Westwood

 

Running and Robots Update

 Read the comments below for the original post and witness silly complacency from 13 years ago. AI couldn't possibly be a threat. Big smart humans would be charge just like with Google AI or this.

The Sun

 Feb. 24, 2011

I made such a big deal out of running. Look at the Japanese! They've transcended actual marathons by inventing robots to do it for them. The robots are programmed to grow increasingly cranky from mile 20 onwards and to shuffle post-event for several days.
via Drudge Report

9 comments:

Armando Torre said...

Damn those dirty robots! They are taking our jobs!

But seriously, I've often wondered what will happen when we have artificial intelligence and robots doing all our tasks. I can't help but think "Wall-Eeeee".

8:40 PM

JP Mac said...

That darn machine on Jeopardy is leading the charge.

10:24 AM

Armando Torre said...

I happened to catch a report about that from the Daily Show. The take over is beginning, haha.

11:47 AM

JP Mac said...

Skynet has become aware.

12:58 PM

Luke said...

Yeah, but who uses sky net?

1:40 PM

JP Mac said...

Nerd machines—the worst kind.

2:30 PM

Armando Torre said...

How often do you get people saying to you "you should write a story about that", John? Hehe.

6:21 PM

JP Mac said...

We must construct a new generation of machines but build in a lack of ambition.

6:40 PM

Keeper said...

Sounds like Marvin, the Paranoid Android.

10:48 PM

 

Crazy Wrong Number Ends in Vintage Kubrick

 The following was presented to me free of charge by an unknown woman, engulfed with anger and frustration. After wrapping the audio in video, I present the finished product here for your consideration.

  

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