About 45 minutes ago, a little after 1:00 AM… I had just finished watching the final episode of Lost a few minutes earlier while spending a couple good hours on the exercise bike when I heard some fighting across the street from my apartment at the bar and grill where I occasionally eat dinner. This is pretty normal at this time of night. People frequently congregate outside the bar and scream and yell at each other, though I normally can’t understand what they’re saying. This time it was one or two women screaming “nigger!” repeatedly at some other guy with a whole mess of other people, maybe ten or so, pushing and yelling at each other and basically acting like children, which again, is quite normal.
I hopped in the shower thinking nothing of it and had the water running for probably less than a minute when I heard what I thought was a gunshot, though I couldn’t be certain. It just sounded like fireworks, as I’ve never really been around gunshots before. I jumped out of the shower and ran to my backpack, since that’s where I normally keep my phone, but then remembered I’d plugged it in to recharge so I ran to the wall and grabbed it then ran to the window, all the while hearing more gunshots. I looked out to see the group of people had moved further into the parking lot and one dude with a little pistol was firing shot after shot into another guy’s chest from maybe fifteen feet away. Somehow I didn’t even stop to consider the possibility of stray bullets or anyone wanting to eliminate witnesses.
Then everyone scattered, driving away with screeching tires, leaving the one guy lying motionless on the pavement.
During all this I was trying to navigate into the dialer program on my phone, then for some reason I tried opening my address book, as though I have 911 in my contact list, then had to go back to the dialer and delete the old number I’d previously dialed, then called 911. Then I sat on hold for two, three, maybe five minutes, and by the time someone answered the police were already pulling into the parking lot.
Then I realized I’d spent all my mental energy trying to dial that phone and hadn’t really taken stock of everything that was going on. I didn’t get a description of anyone. I couldn’t remember what kind of cars they were driving, I didn’t count the shots, nor the number of people. There were two, possibly three cars. All I remember was there was a lot of people and a lot of gunshots. I’m pretty sure the shooter was wearing a clean white t-shirt, but even that I can’t be certain of. I saw at least one shooter; there could have been another, but the one guy with the gun didn’t seem to be trying to protect himself.
I always thought that if I found myself in a situation like this, I’d just be calm and take everything down, but it just doesn’t work like that. In my defense, though, I’ve never been big on catching the bad guy. In that moment I just wanted to make certain that the guy got medical attention as quickly as possible, even though I’m pretty sure it was a lost cause.
It was like something out of a gangster movie and I’m still in shock as I write this. I already wrote an email to work telling them I was coming in late and I’ve poured myself a stiff drink… which is probably ironic since no doubt it was alcohol that contributed to this.
I remember just a couple weeks ago someone inside that bar was telling me that fights never broke out around there, that it was a surprisingly peaceful bar, and I spoke up and had to differ with him, telling him that I live right across the street and regularly hear dramatic fighting around this time of night.
And one other ironic thing was that I was at the local sex club earlier tonight for a writers group meeting and was hearing people in the next room getting tied up, screaming, getting whipped and spanked and all sorts of crazy, dramatic noises. I remember from my membership orientation, however, another new member asking one of the directors what the craziest, most fucked up non-consensual thing that had ever happened in the 11 year history of the sex club after having over ten thousand members walk through their door. The director answered something like, “There was this one time that a guy came in and was hitting on all the ladies and he smacked a girl’s ass without her permission, so she complained about him. When someone went to give him a warning, he slapped her on the ass, so we banned him for life and he left without a major incident. That’s about the worst thing I can think of.”
I’ve been thinking about the irony of that for the last two years that I’ve been a member at the CSPC, wondering what kind of stories you would get if you went in to any bar in America and asked the same question. And yet there are so many people who want the sex club shut down for moral reasons, while there are countless bars in the country that are no different than the one across the street from my apartment.
I think I’m gonna go in there tomorrow night and have a bacon-cheeseburger and a gin and tonic, and what do you want to bet they’ll be serving just as much alcohol as they always do?
It’s 3:05 now, and I’m still wide awake, still not thinking clearly.
I went to a restaurant the other day where about half the employees were wearing shirts that said, “God is good, all the time”. I immediately thought, well gee, what about the 9-11 terrorist attacks–that was certainly done in the name of God, so was that good? Are they saying they support that kind of thing?
(I also thought, well, what about Isaac Zamora, who murdered a woman in the name of Jesus on the front lawn of the house where I grew up; what about that lady who drowned her four children in the bathtub to save them from going to hell about ten years ago; what about the religious cults that hold themselves up with their stock of guns; what about my friend who jumped off a bridge because Jesus told him he could fly; what about Ted Bundy’s father, who taught him the ways of violence and caused his family to regularly fear for their lives and happened to be the deacon of their church and a highly respected religious figure? I thought about all these things and more, but for the convenience of this entry, I’ll just talk about 9-11.)
So was 9-11 a good thing, according to the people who believe that “God is good, all the time?
I think, deep down inside, the answer is yes. Sure if I were to ask one of these people directly they would make up excuses and say things like “that’s not really God” or “that’s the devil who does stuff like that”, but it doesn’t change the fact that the people who crashed those planes on 9-11 truly and deeply believed in God and were truly doing it for Him. Ultimately, most people who truly believe in God and think religion is a positive thing would rather live in a world of terrorists than one filled with atheists. Even after all these horrible things that happen in the name of God, atheists are still seen as the bad guys.
The reason for that, I think, is simple. Atheists are freaking boring.
Think about watching the movie Saw, where the bad guy was raised in a good home and taught love and respect and never grew up to kidnap and torture people. That would have been one boring movie. Think about all the times you’ve seen an accident on the side of the road and slowed down to gawk and gotten that little rush inside, that sense that something truly interesting and exciting had just happened? Those things make us… I’d say happy, but it’s not happiness exactly. It’s a sense of excitement, a sense of being alive.
When we watch a horror movie, we are disgusted, horrified, we think, gee whoever made that is truly sick and twisted, but we rarely say, “I wish that movie had never been made.” We’ll still say “That was a good movie; that was fun.”
The same is true for things like 9-11. People talk about how evil the terrorists are and how they deserve to go to hell and how we need to go to war with them, and all sorts of other nasty things about them, but the one thing I’ve not heard a single person say in the last ten years is, “I wish 9-11 never happened.”
The only real difference between 9-11 and a good horror movie is that we have such a hard time admitting that we enjoyed it. Admitting that would put a damper on our drive for vengeance. It would dilute our anger and take away that evil enemy that we love to hate. It would confuse our motivations and cause us to question our own actions. So instead we hide it away at the same time that we are feeling it so intensely.
The sad truth about human nature is that war and death is fun and exciting. To me this is most evident in our television advertisements for the US Military. They show us all these fancy weapons, and say “this isn’t science fiction” and make it look like you’re in this hot action flick. They don’t talk about it as being a necessary evil that must be done to keep the peace. They portray it as being fun.
I personally believe this is the root of most of our wars, military and criminal justice. People don’t go into the military or become police officers because they want to make the world a better place. That may be what they say out loud, but it’s not the true reason. Deep down, they either love their jobs, or they slowly become “bleeding heart liberals” like myself and realize what they are doing is wrong.
But that is only a percentage of the population, maybe %60, maybe more, maybe less. I think part of the problem is that many of us “bleeding heart liberals” don’t understand that lust for blood, action and excitement and never recognize it as being a driving factor in our decisions. We have this ignorant belief that everyone wants world peace because we can’t imagine wanting anything else. The fact is that a huge proportion of the population does not want peace because it’s boring.
I think God is a huge contributing factor to this blood lust. If God exists, why would He possibly want us to be peaceful? What interest could that hold for Him?
So when a person wears a t-shirt saying “God is good, all the time” they might as well be wearing a shirt that says, “I support 9-11, Ted Bundy and Isaac Zamora.” It’s not much different on an emotional level than wearing a Nightmare on Elm Street t-shirt. I just wish we could admit it.
Just thought I’d post this real quick because I thought it kind of neat.
I was out at the bar a few nights ago and someone randomly asked me what my favorite animal was. I said “Either a crow or a coyote.” I was thinking of my two experiences with those animals, one as a kid where I was surrounded by a pack of coyotes while eating Fruity Pebbles Cereal and another where a flock of crows attacked me trying to get me to drop my take-out box of delicious barbecue. She brought out her sketch pad and started drawing faster than I think I’ve ever seen anyone draw and a minute later, gave me this:
(ugh, looks like the automatic PDF generator doesn’t handle images very well, not that you need to see this entry in PDF. I’d sure like to build my own PDF generator if only I had the time.)
So here’s what I’m up to with my fiction writing. (My true stories are a whole other story, but I am certainly working on those as well.)
Last Sunday I finished another story in my series of EVE Online themed violence porn. My first, of course, was my novel, Against A Rock. This one is titled Compensating for a Small Penis, 19,000 words, about two foul-mouthed battleship lieutenants who discover a spy and are thrown into a desperate struggle for survival, shooting their way through a brutal blood bath as they are forced to come face to face with their guilt over the fact that they have made a career out of death and suffering.
This was the last real EVE Online story that I intended to write. I still have two others that I still need to post.
One is a shorter one (5,000 words or so) called The Atrocity Planners (someone suggested that title at a writers group meeting I attend at the local sex club), about two small children from pirate/terrorist parents who awaken to a police raid and the murder of their mom and dad, then must take up arms and escape into the air ducts in an attempt to reach the escape pods. This one I have sent off to EON Magazine, the official magazine of EVE Online. I still haven’t heard back about it but I’m holding out hope that they’ll publish it, in which case I won’t be able to post it here and I’ll simply send you to buy the magazine
The third story I’m sitting on is my personal pride and joy as a writer. I normally don’t like to rate my own stories, but I think it might be the best I’ve ever written. It’s called I Killed Him Daddy, about a 12 year old girl who unleashes a whirlwind of hell after killing a cop with a cattle prod to protect her alcoholic father’s illegal hobby. It explores criminal behavior and I think gives a good view on why I’m an anarchist while portraying some intense action, violence and emotion.
I also have the 15,000 word outline that I’ve written for the next two, possibly three, sequels to Against A Rock, that, realistically, will probably never be written due to CCP’s lack of interest in the story. I will probably post that in the coming months as well so people can see what I had planned for the series.
And then I am half-heartedly working on a novel I’m tentatively calling I Kill For Money, A Love Story about Cyborg Assassins. I’ve written the prologue and a couple of the more important sections as samples, but I don’t think I’m going to go much further with it for the time being. I intend to post that as well and get some feedback to find out how interested people would be in the complete novel.
I need to run another couple edits of Compensating for a Small Penis, then I will break it into four or five chapters and start posting it here, one every couple weeks and linking to it from the EVE Fiction forums. After that I’ll post the I Kill For Money samples, and the Against A Rock sequel outline. Then if it doesn’t get accepted into EON, I’ll post The Atrocity Planners, and finally I’ll post I Killed Him Daddy, saving the best for last.
But after I run my final edits on these stories, I think I’m going to be done with writing Quentin Tarantino style violence porn for a while. I got kind of burned out on it with Compensating for a small Penis, with all the guns, blood, death, explosions, amputations, and the gouging of the small child’s eyeballs. After these edits I am going to try to go back to focusing on rewriting my second novel, which I’m still, unfortunately, calling, Rediscovering Communication, which is totally different than the Die-Hard in Space style that I’ve been doing for the last two years since Against A Rock. Rediscovering Communication is more in line with what I originally wanted to do as a writer, sort of a cross between the fantastical and wondrous science fiction of Robert Silverberg and the positive, peaceful nature of Star Trek that promotes communication, understanding and peace. This is the one that was noticed and read by (at least I’m pretty sure it was him) by Terry Brooks in it’s original form. He had a lot of good things to say about it and a lot of very real criticism, but I’m taking almost all of his advice and reworking it, removing the glaring and ridiculous error that I made when I killed off the main character two-thirds of the way through and giving it a nice, positive and uplifting conclusion. When I finish with that, hopefully I will have a shot at getting something published for real.
Glad to see others are as concerned as I am about where our government is leading us. Ironic that I found this when researching keywords to use to promote my novel, Against A Rock, which has a very positive outlook on mental implants.