I Saw the Naked Man, Did You?

 

I’ve seen him twice––my poor eyes. The first time I saw him was before C-Jane and I were engaged, when I lived in my old apartments, before I was BIG-J, and just big-j.

 

I’d come down from my apartment with a sack of trash to be deposited in the trash dumpster. There was a rusty ten-speed bike beside the tan-bricked enclave where the refuse cans were tucked away. On the bike was a tiny battery-operated radio with the song ‘I Remember You’ by the eighties hair-band known as Skid Row blaring from the speakers. (There is some irony here since the rider was most likely homeless.)

 

I walk into the trash area and Behold!––a man spanking away at his wiener. He was standing with his back to me, giving his dog a mean beating, buck-ass neck-ed!!

 

I was stunned by what I saw. He had his back to me and I just stood there, amazed by the display of expert pole-yanking, all the while, Sebastian Bach is caterwauling, “I Reeeeemember Youuuuuu!” I nearly said, “how romantic, garbage and heavy metal” but I was afraid I’d ruin his moment or worse yet, that he’d turn around and fire at me. So loudly, I threw my sack’o’trash into the dumpster and ran away like a scared little girl!

Thank Starpulse for the above photo.

 

I was sure that would be the last time I’d see Naked Man. No, fortune chose to humor me again. This time on the way to California – Naked Man, you sure get around.

 

I was between Victorville and San Bernardino. I’d just passed Cajon Summit where the high desert begins its steep and dangerous plummet to the Riverside Valley and Inland Empire. It is the worst part of the long trip between Las Vegas and Riverside because there is two lanes of large trucks with eighteen wheels whipping around each other, as well as another two lanes of crazy automobiles with drivers who ‘think’ they are Mario Andretti, but really they are just lucky not to crash into each other. I was just trying to survive when from out of the bushes on the side of the road – there he is again – Naked Man!

 

This time he had the decency to use an old discarded floor mat to cover-up his hangy-down part. I couldn’t stare too long or I’d die in a 20-car collision. Damn you, Naked Man – damn you for trying to kill me this time. I stole one last look in my rear-view, and sure enough, he was all naked, right there, on the side of Interstate-15.

 

I don’t even remember the next thirty minutes it took to get to Riverside. All I could think about was, why? Why did I have to see another naked man in my life? What could lead to standing on the side of the road with only a floor mat to cover his man-part? Was he hoping to meet a nice lady on her way to L.A.? Did a bear eat all his clothes? That was some party, eh? And one last time, why me? Why have my eyes been cursed twice with manly nakedness? (I reeeemember youuuuu-ooouuu!)

 

Thanks Sebastian, thanks a lot!

 

 

Thank WebMD for the picture.

 

Absentee Message #2

I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. It isn’t that there hasn’t been anything to write about over the past couple of weeks, it is that I haven’t been feeling very nice. I’m tired of being mean all the time. I’m trying to be a happier fellow — all smiles and stuff.

Being a writer is one thing, but being a respected writer is a real pain in the ass. I hate political correctness. I prefer to be genuine, and at my core, genuine isn’t nice.

I’m rubbing elbows with some fantastically great writers. I shared a cool little conversation with Michael Sullivan the other day, and if I get brave enough, I’ll ask him if he’d like to do an interview. I just got published along-side some up and coming authors like Gary W. Olson, Mark Lawrence, Gene O’Neill, Nick Cato, Lee Mather, and Edward M Erdelac to name a few. I hope to capture a couple interviews with some of them as well. I’ve established an ally with book critic Ryan Lawler. Next week, I’m having  lunch with horror writer Tim Marquitz — I’m reading his fourth in the Demon Squad series and hope to have a review of it posted in the next couple of weeks.

All of the above things are happening because I haven’t been being my typical dick-self.

Anyhow, C-Jane has a big karate tournament in Riverside California on Saturday. I hope to write a post before I head to Texas for an important graduation in Dallas, and then on to meet Mr. Marquitz in El Paso. The next couple weeks should open plenty of awesome opportunities, and maybe I can stay nice about them.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

The Wrong Way Down

by Jake Elliot

Giveaway ends June 01, 2012.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

 

A Summary of Old Movies

Those who ride regularly upon the Shortbus may recall that C-Jane and I have GREAT DISDAIN for the growing trend of Hollywood’s insultingly stupid movies. Every year, they just get worse. I could never fathom a movie worse than Transformers II, but then they made Captain America. I haven’t seen a movie in a theater since. I will not spend my ridiculously difficult to make money to go see the Avengers.

Here is our answer. Netflix has provided us with many classic movies, and as a starting point, I decided 1970 was as good a year as any. (C-Jane added Psycho which was several years earlier, and my review is found here. We saw Casablanca, which deserves its own post––also not 1970.)

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Here is the list of what we’ve seen so far—

The Godfather – the first of three movies telling the legacy of the Corleone Family.

Kelly’s Heroes – Clint Eastwood learns the Nazis have a bunch of gold that he wants to steal.

Catch-22 – Alan Arkin plays a bombardier who wants to be relieved of duty.

Little Big Man – Dustin Hoffman is a white man who was raised by Cheyenne Indians.

M.A.S.H. – The movie that started the T.V. show in the seventies.

and Patton – George C. Scott as the General who kicked Nazi-ass.

People sure did like movies about war back then. Kelly’s Heroes, Patton, and Catch-22 are set in World War Two. MASH is set in Korea, Little Big Man is set during the American-Indian War and the Godfather is about a gang war between Mafia families. WAR, huh! Good God! What is it good for?––obviously to entertain the American masses. No wonder all our oldsters in Congress love war so much, they were breast-fed war by Hollywood.

My ultra-liberal wife is getting sick from all of the war-mongering. She will not be watching the final half of Patton with me. She hates Patton since The movie seems to be very ‘Yay, War!” I’m not too keen on it either.

The Godfather was great. James Caan, Marlon Brando, Robert Duvall, and Al Pacino, what more is there to say? Nothing. This movie gave me hope that moving backwards in time was the answer to shitty Hollywood blockbusters.

But, what surprises me is how dumb these old movies are. Granted, none of them have been as retarded as Transformers II. But with the exception of The Godfather and Little Big Man, they have each had their fair dose of dumbness. M.A.S.H. being the worst.

M.A.S.H. was awful. I think there were two screen writers – one who wasn’t very good and did not research his subject, and his retarded brother who made a football movie. The point of the movie was that three surgeons drafted into the military could sleep around with anyone, humiliate those who opposed their silly antics, go to Japan and tell the military what to do and then go back to Korea to play and win in a football bet – The End. All the actors were big names in the 70’s and their acting was about as good as if they were in Transformers II. I still don’t know why this movie was made.

Catch-22 was fantastic. It was brilliant and comedy. Bob Newhart played the role of Major Major, and Anthony Perkins playing the part of Chaplain Tappman. Everyone in the movie is nuts, except Alan Arkin, who begs to be relieved of his duty, claiming he is crazy. This movie has inspired me to read the book, but I haven’t yet.

Kelly’s Heroes, starring Clint Eastwood and a mega-cast of actors, features Donald Sutherland, Telly Savalas and Don Rickles. This was an epic war movie where they must have spent millions of dollars in pyrotechnics. They blew up all sorts of stuff – buildings, tanks, bridges, trains, people, and more buildings. BOOM! C-Jane couldn’t handle it; liberal wussy.

Little Big Man, starring Dustin Hoffman, and C-Jane asked, is he really that tiny? Of course he is, they didn’t have fancy shrinking special effects yet in 1970. He is a little guy, he was a tiny Captain Hook in the eighties, and he was a tiny man who tricked General Custer in the seventies. I loved this movie, C-Jane didn’t fully appreciate this one.

Soon, C-Jane will have control of the Netflix orders, and we’ll be back to sappy love movies and crap. (I’m lying, sort of, she does prefer boring dramas without bombs and Indian attacks, or machine-gun ambushes.) Oh well, my time of power was fun while it lasted, here comes the next wave of artsy crap.

Gulp “Gandhi?” Yuck.

Cinco Denial

Later this year, C-Jane and I are going to live in Mexico for about five weeks. It is an intensive language program with a cultural immersion. It is a little pricey, but the benefits are going to be priceless. With that said, know I have no ill with our southern neighbor.

I have no ills with Hispanic immigrants. Those who choose to become American citizens through an undeniably long process are an inspiration to the virtues of patience and determination. I am pleased to extend my hand in welcome and say, “Thank you for learning the language of English and becoming my countryman.”

Some of the more liberal members of my extended family believe we should have open borders. Again, if I could cruise on into Mexico and get ‘free’ medical care, pop out a kid or two and have ‘dual’ citizenship, and expect Mexico to teach my kids English for free along with providing my kids with free babysitting and disciplining, I’m all for open-borders. The bulls*** Obama-Care Bill is to ensure our southern neighbors continue to get free care in the US. (Obama himself said, “This bill will not include illegal immigrants.” Meaning, U.S. citizens will be forced to pay the Medicaid insurance that covers illegal immigrants though higher taxes.)

I love how Republicans want to jump up and down about ‘what a threat’ Al Qaida is to our ‘national security’ and how ‘in the interest of National Security’ they need access to all our Facebook accounts so they can ‘make sure we aren’t mingling with potential terrorists,’ but refuse to secure our border with our Mexican neighbor. Repubs may as well just say it –– “We want to use Mexicans for slave labor.”

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

Yay all you white consumers run to 7-11 and buy cases of Corona. Do shots of Jose Cuervo, buy limes made in Mexico, eat Taco Bell! Celebrate the fifth of May! Get fat––barf on the side of the road––go to jail for DUI––help make lawyers and judges richer. Happy Cinco!

What is so significant about the 5th of May? I know, but I’m not saying, because 80% of Americans have no clue what Cinco de Mayo is all about. Figure it out for yourself.

On the 4th of July, our free-trade brothers and sisters in Tijuana or Juarez, are they buying cases of Bud Light? Sipping some fine Maker’s Mark while grilling hamberguesas and perro calientes? I can see it now, fireworks over Mexico City, Riva Quatro de Julio! Buenos Dios Americano!!

Yeah…I don’t think so.

So with that said, C-Jane has invited her family over for dinner. I invited mine too, but they are terrified of our hosting abilities. They said, “Oh, sorry BigJ, I got to go through my garage and kill spiders that day, maybe next year, fifth of May – nope, booked next year too.” Sure mom, just wait until Mother’s Day, “Oh, what, sorry mom, I got to do something else that day, I got it written down here somewhere, but I’m sure I don’t have time to hang out with you.”

(How petty––that BigJ––he is so petty.)

So, for tonight’s celebratory dinner, we shall eat BigJ’s world-renown fresh Guacamole made from scratch, C-Jane’s mysteriously slow-cooked Chicken Mole with her homemade tortillas and sangria (wait-a-minute, that’s Spanish…oops) and cheap tequila for BigJ’s famous margaritas. (Tequila/triple sec/lime-juice/orange-juice, shaken and poured over ice in a salt rimmed glass.)

Then, I will break out the maracas and sing “Iyee-iyee-iee-yiaee” as C-Jane plays her Spanish guitar.

picture of a BigJ look-alike singing “Iyeee-Iyaee-Ayee-Yiee”

Mayday! Mayday! Gary Olson has Taken Over the Shortbus

Gary Olson is one of my fellow published authors at Damnation Books. I’ve followed several of his earlier interviews and knew his answers to my kooky questions would be a great addition to my collection of new and impressive authors.

Seven questions, Mr. Olson—and your chance for Shortbus greatness….

1)  Tell us a little about Brutal Light, is it your debut novel? How would you classify it, what genre? Who is the protagonist? What makes your story so unique? In other words, tell us about your latest book.

Hey, that’s five questions right there!  Two more and I’m done!

Ha.  Anyway, Brutal Light is indeed my first published novel, albeit my fifth or sixth stab at writing one.  It’s been classified as dark fantasy, which is probably the most accurate as far as popular categorizations go, though in the years I was slinging it at various slush piles, I would sometimes push it as a horror novel.  If I was going to shamelessly hype it up for a movie producer, I’d describe it as “Philip K. Dick meets Clive Barker.”  A reviewer described it as my having set myself a difficult challenge, “to depict the kind of interleaved, convoluted, and multi-layered world at which China Mieville is certainly adept.”

The center of the book is Kagami Takeda, a runaway with a connection to the Radiance, a merciless and godlike sea of light.  The connection comes at a cost–anyone who is around her for too long either develops a paranormal ability or, more often, goes insane.  At the novel’s opening, she’s nearly a shut-in, working from an apartment she shares with her lover, a detective named Nick Havelock (who, due to his association with her, developed a finding ability and experiences some rather nasty bloody visions).  But people she’s hurt in the past catch up to her, and she’s forced to run again as they and other parties interested in unlimited power try to take over her body and her mind.

It’s a book that I knew from the start would be difficult to classify.  I was letting my freak flag fly on this one, mixing metaphysics with action and bloody carnage and putting off worrying about how to explain it.  It’s not that I didn’t think it would have an audience–I know there are plenty of readers out there like me who enjoy books like these–it was just a question of finding that audience.  I was very happy it found a home with Damnation Books–a publisher that takes chances attracts readers who take chances.

2) Where did you come up with such an interesting story? What inspired it?

In a way, it was the culmination of a sort of tale I’ve been telling for the past fifteen or so years, in which someone with a great deal of power struggles with the consequences, mental and physical, of having this power.  I went through several iterations of this theme in my writing for the Superguy list in the mid-nineties, and later on in my first attempts at writing a novel.  (Or, in a few versions, a group of people have to deal with someone in their midst who has a great deal of power, who may or may not act in their favor.)  The overall theme of power–its temptations and dangers, and what our response to it says about us–has fascinated me for a long time.

Brutal Light came about after a few years had passed since my last attempt at a novel.  I’d read a striking essay by Arundhati Roy, with one line that stood out in particular: “Respect strength, never power.”  It was one of those moments that crystalized a great deal of vague thought I’d had on the subject.  The conflation of power and strength is a very human impulse, and it gave me a way to approach all this stuff in my head from a new angle.

Everything else accumulated around that idea.  It ended up getting fused to my fascination with memory and how it makes us who we are, a large swath of occult and alchemical studies I’ve read, layman-level works on how the mind works and some of the extreme ways things can go wrong, and so on.

3) Have you any other stories published that you would like to mention? Where can we get our hands on them? What can we expect to see and how soon?

Brutal Light was my first publication in quite a while.  I had three short works published in the late nineties–The Body in Motion, Glass Nails, and Electricity in the Rain–that are no longer available.  I made a revised version of The Body in Motion available for subscribers to my newsletter, and will eventually do the same for Glass Nails.  Electricity in the Rain I’m considering for revision/expansion as a paranormal-genre novella.

I also have a short story, Something You Should Know, set in the Brutal Light universe that’s available for free from Smashwords and BarnesAndNoble.com.  It centers on a homeless woman inadvertently given (by Kagami) the paranormal ability to remove memories–generally horrifying ones–from someone, and also to force these stolen memories on someone else–people she feels deserve the pain.  It’s set a few months before the ‘present day’ action in Brutal Light, though it’s more of a standalone story than a prequel.

4) If you had three words to define yourself, what would they be? Why? You don’t have to answer, remain a mystery if you choose.

Pachycephalic.  Bibliobibuli.  Fabulist.

I love old, forgotten words, though I don’t often use them in my writing.  I would like to see ‘bibliobibuli’ brought back… it means ‘people who read too much,’ to the point they seem ‘drunk on books.’  Hic!

‘Pachycephalic’ means ‘thick-skulled,’ which is self-explanatory (heh).  ‘Fabulist’ means both ‘a composer of fables’ and ‘a liar.’  Of course, when I say I’m a liar, I could be lying…

5) What are some of your favorite books?

Now there’s a question I could go all day answering.  I have trouble keeping up with my list of favorite authors, nevermind favorite books.  But since you ask…

I’m a longtime fan of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series.  Of those, Reaper Man and The Wee Free Men are perhaps my favorites (at least today).  They manage the very difficult task of being both uproariously funny and terribly moving, often at the same time.  Of course, Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series is also a favorite, though it hasn’t aged quite as well.

Frank Herbert’s Dune had a huge influence on me, as did Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson’s Illumnatus Trilogy.  William Browning Spencer’s Zod Wallop is a wildly imaginative and fun book with an ending that is as stunning and emotional as any I’ve ever read–there are passages in it that still come to mind at odd moments that make me pause and reflect.  I still have enormous fondness for Isaac Asimov’s Foundation books, as dated as they now seem.  Clive Barker’s Imajica opened up major new avenues for my imagination to explore.

On the nonfiction end, books like Stephen Pinker’s How the Mind Works and V.S. Ramachandran’s Phantoms of the Brain have fascinated me through multiple readings.  Lewis Hyde’s Trickster Makes This World also rates for how brilliantly it illuminates the trickster archetype and the value of blurring the lines in our heads.

That’s just a sampling.  In general, I don’t reread a lot, as there’s way too much good stuff out there that I still haven’t gotten to.  Any book that can compel me to read it again and again is one I treasure.

6) What was your favorite Saturday morning cartoon/show when you were a little kid?

I can recall several of them, all Hanna Barbara ‘classics’ from the seventies.  Laff-a-Lympics was probably my favorite of them all, though I also loved the Road Runner cartoons, Captain Caveman, the Superfriends, Scooby-Doo, and Blue Falcon/Dynomutt.

Some of the Saturday Morning fare I most enjoyed, though, was actually live action: the Shazam/Isis Power Hour, for instance, even though I was too young to appreciate Isis fully (ahem) at the time.  Another gem was Jason of Star Command, a bargain-basement Saturday morning Star Wars knockoff which included the great Sid Haig as the villain Draco.

7) The Nevada State dinosaur is Ichthyosaurus, what is the Michigan State dinosaur? Does this inspire you? How?

It doesn’t appear (from my quick Google search) that Michigan has a State Dinosaur (unless you count Ted Nugent).  The closest we seem to have is a State Fossil… Ted Nugent.  (Ha, just kidding, it’s the Mastodon.)  Can’t say that it inspires me too much, except when I’m around a well-stocked salad bar.  (“I’m gonna rock that salad bar like a mastodon, and impale upon my tusks those who would deprive me of the bacon bits!”)

 

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Blurb for “Brutal Light”:

All Kagami Takeda wants is to be left alone, so that no one else can be destroyed by the madness she keeps at bay.  Her connection to the Radiance–a merciless and godlike sea of light–has driven her family insane and given her lover strange abilities and terrible visions.  But the occult forces that covet her access to the Radiance are relentless in their pursuit.  Worse, the Radiance itself has created an enemy who can kill her–a fate that would unleash its ravenous power on a defenseless city…

Rhea Cole is also on the run, after murdering her husband with a power she never knew she had–a power given her by a strange girl with a single touch.  Pursued by a grim man unable to dream and a dead soul with a taste for human flesh, she must contend with those who would use her to open the way to the Radiance, and fight a battle that stretches from the streets of Detroit to a forest of terrifying rogue memories.

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Buy links for “Brutal Light”:

DamnationBooks.com (.mobi, .epub, .pdf, .pdb): http://www.damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615725380

Amazon.com (Kindle edition): http://www.amazon.com/Brutal-Light-ebook/dp/B006EVZYIC/

Amazon.com (Print edition): http://www.amazon.com/Brutal-Light-Gary-W-Olson/dp/1615725393/

Links for of all other vendors (continually updated): http://BrutalLight.GaryWOlson.com

Print ISBN (for ordering paperback via bookstore): 978-1-61572-539-7

Digital ISBN: 978-1-61572-538-0

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Bio for Gary W. Olson:

Gary W. Olson grew up in Michigan and, despite the weather, stuck around.  In 1991 he graduated from Central Michigan University and went to work as a software engineer.  He loves to read and write stories that transgress the boundaries of science fiction, fantasy, and horror, while examining ideas of identity and its loss in the many forms it can have.

Away from working and writing, Gary enjoys spending time with his wife, their cats, and their mostly reputable family and friends.  His website is at http://www.garywolson.com, and features his blog, A Taste of Strange (http://www.garywolson.com/blog), as well as links to everyplace else he is on the Internet, such as Twitter (http://twitter.com/gwox) and Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/gary.w.olson.author).