Category Archives: Life

North East West South 3/1/2009

N.E.W.S. of the day…with smartassery.

Bobby Jindal: i can haz gravitaz?

For those who were worried that the loss of George W. Bush would be a terrible blow to comedians across the land, rest assured that the Republican Party is just as dedicated to providing buffoons for us to laugh at as it is to promoting tax cuts for the idle rich as the only solution for everything from genital warts to possible catastrophic asteroid collision.

Sarah Palin and Joe the Unlicensed Plumber Not Named Joe were great buffoons, and Rush Limbaugh has really been pulling his weight lately, but ladies and gents, we have a new champeen: Governor Bobby Jindal of Louisiana.

20nw.jindal.new
Knowing they couldn’t beat President Obama on charm or substance, the GOP wisely chose to beat him on laughs, and pulled the goofiest Joker from their misbegotten deck to provide the official Republican response to Obama’s big speech before Congress.

Jindal is another entry in the new Minstrel Show the Republicans are putting on to show that they have colored folks too, and are, in the words of RNC Chairman Michael Steele, “off the hook.” (And Steele himself is quite the Negro, apparently, since Minnesota Congresswoman Michelle Bachman told him “Michael Steele! You be da man! You be da man!”) (And Bachman herself recently bemoaned the tragic circumstance that “we’re running out of rich people in this country…” and I could just keep digressing and digressing at the idiocy this party has to offer, but I am supposed to be talking about Jindal right now…)

Jindal came bobbing onto screen and started talking in a Gomer-Pyle-with-a-head-wound way that seemed to uncannily channel Kenneth the Page on 30 Rock (this observation is in no way original to me, it’s all over the net, and Jack McBrayer even went on The Late Show in character to comment on it). Not only did he come across as an idiot, he told a dramatic story about how he courageously stood up to government bureaucracy during rescue operations during Hurricane Katrina which his office has now been forced to acknowledge was a lie.

But Jindal’s creds as a lackwit go far deeper than his performance after Obama’s speech. Much like Sarah Palin, Bobby has been involved in spiritual warfare against the forces of darkness, and while Sarah was only blessed by a minister who has driven witches out of their homes in Africa, the Bobster himself took part in exorcising a demon out of his best friend Susan:

Whenever I concentrated long enough to begin prayer, I felt some type of physical force distracting me. It was as if something was pushing down on my chest, making it very hard for me to breathe. . . Though I could find no cause for my chest pains, I was very scared of what was happening to me and Susan. I began to think that the demon would only attack me if I tried to pray or fight back; thus, I resigned myself to leaving it alone in an attempt to find peace for myself.

It appeared as if we were observing a tremendous battle between the Susan we knew and loved and some strange evil force. But the momentum had shifted and we now sensed that victory was at hand.While Alice and Louise held Susan, her sister continued holding the Bible to her face. Almost taunting the evil spirit that had almost beaten us minutes before, the students dared Susan to read biblical passages. She choked on certain passages and could not finish the sentence “Jesus is Lord.” Over and over, she repeated “Jesus is L..L..LL,” often ending in profanities. In between her futile attempts, Susan pleaded with us to continue trying and often smiled between the grimaces that accompanied her readings of Scripture. Just as suddenly as she went into the trance, Susan suddenly reappeared and claimed “Jesus is Lord.”

Palin/Jindal 2012? There’s something worth praying for.

Mermaid Dreams

When she was a little girl, Nadya Vessey lost both her legs below the knee. As an adult, she wrote to New Zealand special effects powerhouse Weta Workshop (the guys who made the Lord of the Rings movies so freaking amazing) and asked if they’d create a prosthetic for her that would make her into a mermaid. They did.

I don’t have much to say about this, really, only that it’s just cool as hell that they did this for her. Both onscreen and offscreen, Weta apparently sees their mission as bringing magic into the world.

The Google Name Game

Facebook is full of list memes, swarms of friendly spam that ricochet through communities of acquaintance, asking for folks to share their favorite whatevers, tell facts about themselves, or just goof off in some weird or creative way. Earlier, I posted my response to the “25 Random Facts About Me” meme (Two Baker’s Dozens of Things About Me, Minus One), which, once I actually applied myself, I found to be an enjoyable endeavor, and I’ve had nice feedback from my friends.

I also partook of a few others, like the one listing my favorite musical performers and the one listing authors who’ve influenced me. Trivial stuff, maybe…but like status messages and many other minor features of Facebook, it’s a sort of virtual small talk that informs friends about each other’s tastes and notions and general headspace. It encourages dialogue, and that’s not a bad thing.

Most of it’s not really blog-worthy, but I found the 25 Things meme cool enough to share here, and here’s another one that I found really entertaining. It’s one of several called a “Name Game,” but maybe ought to be called “The Google Name Game.” It asks that you insert your first name into various phrases and search for them on Google, then choose the best result off the first page of hits and put that in as your answer. I added comments to each because I’m always looking for new places to be a smartass (and I think doing so personalizes what would otherwise just be a bit of random fun).

Here’s the exercise, with my altered version of the directions. Maybe I’ll see yours on Facebook.

The Google Name Game

Google the following, then select the best result from the first page of hits and add a {personal comment} for each answer.

1: Type in “[your name] needs” in the Google search:

Tim needs haircut.

{which is true}

2: Type in “[your name] looks like” in Google search:

Tim looks like Eminem–Hawt!

{thanks…?}

3: Type in “[your name] hates” in Google search:

Tim hates sick orphans.

{damn their hides}

4: Type in “[your name] goes” or “..has gone” in Google:

Tim goes nutsball wacko.

{it is the full moon}

5: Type in “[your name] loves” in Google search:

Tim loves dolls.

{please, they’re action figures}

6: Type in “[your name] eats” in Google search:

Tim eats the first electric pickle.

{at least I’m a pioneer}

7: Type in “[your name] has” in Google search:

Tim has the experience and insights to make your home’s electrical installations, maintenance, and repair projects easy, safe, and fun!

{because I ate the electric pickle}

8: Type in “[your name] works” in Google:

Tim works at a bakery and can prepare a birthday cake in 4 hours.

{made from sick orphans}

9: Type in”[your name] lives” in Google search:

Tim lives in F-land.

{or I used to, anyway, before I got married}

10: Type in “[your name] died” in Google search:

Tim died while doing what he enjoyed with the woman he loved.

{if this is an advance peek at my obit, maybe I’m headed back to F-land!}

11: Type in “[your name] will” in Google:

Tim will work with Joss Whedon again, this time on DOLLHOUSE.

{dammit, now the universe is just mocking me}

Two Baker’s Dozens of Things About Me, Minus One

Yes, I’m on Facebook. Yes, I’ve been tagged.

I started one of these “25 Random Things About Me” lists last week and in trying to think of things to share, ran about twenty-five things short.

Then I decided to be a witty prick about it, and make a list of things like this:

1. I am a biped.
2. I can count on my fingers and toes, but only so high.
3. I’m carbon-based, biologically speaking.
4. I absorb sustenance from food I take in at the mouth…

Then, for those who’d suffered through, I’d throw in a zinger:

25. I’m hung like a horse.

But sometimes the effort to be a witty prick is more than it’s worth. And I found myself enjoying some of my friends’ lists, those who made an effort and actually shared some interesting things.

Then, in re-connecting with someone I’d lost long ago, I discovered I remembered far more of what we’d gone through together, and meant to each other, than she did. And she, with the logical precision of one who has spent most of her adult life in the financial sector, actually tallied up the things she “felt she really knew” about me, a list of three things, and decided that we were acquaintances, not friends.

It was all very silly, and I realized immediately I don’t really need friends in my life who track relationships on a spreadsheet. But I did have the witty prick thought that, “Maybe if I’d done one of those lists, and you knew twenty-five things about me, then I could be your friend.”

But sometimes the effort to befriend someone is more than it’s worth. All the same, I decided to make another sincere attempt at my list of 25 things, because I do have friends out there I know will appreciate the effort. So here goes: Continue reading →

Timformation

Tim Byrd

Tim Byrd

There are several ways to get all the Timformation you need. This site, www.tim-byrd.com, home of my blog Under An Outlaw Moon, is of course one of them.

Here are some others, and more will likely follow:

Tim on Facebook

Tim on MySpace

Tim on Twitter

Tim on Goodreads

Tim on Amazon

Feel free to contact me through any of these sites, or through a comment on the blog. I’m friendly and rarely bite, though I am very busy being a dad and a writer and may not always be as prompt in replying as I’d like.

Also, no, I won’t read your story, novel, idea, diary, outline, fortune, pie chart, autobiography, recipe, or the bumps on your head. I’m bogged down in research, way behind on personal reading, generally even more behind in my daily life, and have been strongly advised not to look at other’s unpublished work for several solid legal reasons.

I am going to try to share any and all wisdom I may gain as a professional writer through this site, though that wisdom is rather slim so far. The main advice I can give is this:

“Write it. Then send it out till someone buys it. Till they do, write something else and send it out. Repeat.”

It’s as easy as that. And as difficult.

[NOTE: This info is replicated for permament reference on its own page, accessible through the menu bar down the right side of this page.]

Coyote’s Been Messin’ With My Cookies

The universe is trying to fuck with my head.

About a week and a half ago, my son and I ordered Chinese food from a local establishment and it was divinely tasty (Pyng Ho, for you curious Decaturites). Afterward, we broke out the fortune cookies to see what Destiny had to say. Nathaniel cracked his first, and I don’t remember what his fortune was. Then I cracked mine open, to find…nothing. No fortune at all.

We joked around about my lack of destiny, my looming doom, that sort of thing.

Well, last night was the weekly family night, in which he and I and my soon-to-be-ex get together so Nathaniel can still have some of the family dynamic he craves (a nice side effect is, it also allows me and the soon2bx to be around each other in a friendly way, regularly, which I think helps alleviate a good deal of the acid that can build up between people getting divorced). We alternate hosting, and it was her turn and she’d decided we were going to go to Doc Chey’s for whatever remained of their Chinese New Year festivities. Doc Chey’s however was closed for that sacred of sacreds, the Superbowl. A quick discussion of possible alternates led to an eager vote for Pyng Ho from Nathaniel, who was salivating over the memory of their sesame chicken.

So, to Pyng Ho we go.

A mussels appetizer that was just tasty goodness. Shrimp fried rice, sesame chicken, and teriyaki chicken, all split three ways. Mango lemonade for me, a honey-peach smoothie for Nathaniel, hot green tea (that never actually arrived for some reason, and I have to say our server, who wasn’t busy, was brusque almost to the point of rudeness) for the soon2bx. A wonderful meal.

Then, the fortune cookies. Nathaniel went first, read his. Soon2bx was next, read hers. My turn. We made some cracks about my lingering lack of fortune from the last time, then I broke it open.

Inside, there were two fortunes.

North, East, West, & South 1/28/09

There’s an apocryphal explanation for the term news that says it’s an acronym for the four points of the compass, N(orth)E(ast)W(est)S(outh), in other words, all the stuff happening in all directions. The truth is much more plebeian, with news simply being a plural of new, and meaning “new things,” but I’ve always liked the elegance of that apocrypha, so I’m gonna use it for a brand new feature under ye olde outlaw moon, North East West & South, which will appear at suspenseful intervals of no pre-determined schedule.

In this feature, I’ll share a few bits of the latest news of whatever sort I find interesting or amusing, and I may comment, perhaps in a snide, sarcastic, cruel, bemused, or ironic way. So, here we go…

Jessica Alba vs. Bill O’Reilly

alba

Kudos to the delectable Ms. Alba for publicly showing that she not only has some brains, but has more of them than right-wing nitwit Bill O’Reilly. In an interview just after Obama’s inauguration, Alba called O’Reilly “kind of an a-hole.” Later, a “reporter” from TMZ (a cheesy gossip site) tried to put her on the spot about it, and she playfully asked him what Barack Obama’s greatest characteristic was. The TMZ goon demurred, saying he was uncomfortable answering because he was a (ahem) journalist. Alba told him to “be neutral — be Sweden about it.”

Both O’Reilly and TMZ attacked Alba for her apparent idiocy, because any idiot knows that it’s Switzerland that stayed neutral during WWII, and she of course meant that. Except, no, she meant exactly what she’d said, and retaliated by writing this in her blog:

I find it depressing that, in the midst of perhaps the most salient time in our country’s history, individuals are taking it upon themselves to encourage negativity and stupidity. Last week, Mr. Bill O’Reilly and some really classy sites (i.e. TMZ) insinuated I was dumb by claiming Sweden was a neutral country. I appreciate the fact that he is a news anchor and that gossip sites are inundated with intelligent reporting, but seriously people… it’s so sad to me that you think the only neutral country during WWII was Switzerland. I appreciate the name calling and the accurate reporting. Keep it up!

And yeah, I could have put a picture of O’Reilly up there, instead of one of Alba, but it’s almost dinner-time.

Another Reason to Avoid High Fructose Corn Syrup

High fructose corn syrup is one of the chief supervillains in the fattening of the American populace. I’ve seen graphs which show how American weight started to spike steadily upward in the years since HFCS was introduced in the 1970s, and any good nutritionist can explain the reasons why (if you’re curious, go to this link, where it’s explained concisely and simply). Read over the ingredients of the food you buy very closely, and you’ll find HFCS in many surprising places. It ain’t good for you.

Now, it seems, it’s probably not just fattening, but toxic. As reported at Associated Content:

A recent report published in Environmental Health might make you rethink your next trip to the grocery store. Mercury was discovered in almost half of the samples taken from high fructose corn syrup used in commercial applications. Products by Smucker’s, Kraft, Hershey’s, and Quaker all tested positive for the toxic metal.

The Food and Drug Administration (FDA) tested 20 samples of high fructose corn syrup in 2005. Nine of the 20 samples had detectable amounts of mercury in them. Even though the FDA knew about this mercury problem four years ago, consumers were not informed, and no additional testing was ordered. A different study conducted by IATP, the Institute for Agriculture and Trade Policy, found mercury in almost one-third of 55 different products containing high fructose corn syrup as one of the top two ingredients.

What? The FDA under the Bush Administration didn’t bother to let the American public know about this? But they were usually so forthcoming!

bush-dumb

And what does mercury do to us? The piece at Associated Content sums it up:

Mercury ingestion can harm people of all ages, but it can be especially harmful to children, infants, and developing fetuses. Mercury can affect a person’s memory, fine motor and spatial skills, cognitive thinking skills, and attention span. It can also impair a person’s hearing, speech, and ability to walk. It can cause muscle weakness and make one uncoordinated, and can cause a “pins and needles” sensation.

In short, stay the hell away from HFCS.

The Dark Knight Snubbed

Last years masterpiece of noir superhero cinema, The Dark Knight, was not nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture. Christopher Nolan was not nominated for Best Director. But you know what?

It made a godzillion dollars (popular success), scored incredible reviews (critical success: 94% rating at Rotten Tomatoes, which averages all the reviews), and showed just how smart, topical, and arty a movie about superheroes can actually be.

Fuck Oscar. They haven’t been meaningful in any way except as a boost to advertising for movies in a long damn time.

Though I do hope Heath Ledger gets that posthumous trophy for his Joker, because he was awesome.

Brains On Fire: On Kids and Reading

Back in December 2007, the novelist James Patterson became a hero of mine.

Patterson wrote an open letter to his son in Parade magazine that resonated strongly with me, and said some things I wanted to say to my own son, Nathaniel: Continue reading →

Communications Breakdown

As a writer, communication is my business. As a person, communication is vital to my mental health. You’d think I’d be better at it, but as those close to me could tell you, not so much. Continue reading →

Good Memories of 2008

Some things I enjoyed last year, in no particular order…

The Dark Knight. I could say, with great conviction, that this was the best movie of 2008, but I actually didn’t see anywhere close to all the movies released, so that’d be pretty presumptuous of me. It was definitely the best new film I saw, and the Batman movie I’ve wanted to see since my age was in single digits. Batman Begins was damn near perfect (Katie Holmes notwithstanding), and The Dark Knight took everything that worked in Begins and improved upon it. It’s not just a great superhero movie, it’s a damn good film, a high caliber crime thriller, beautifully made, masterfully written, full of great performances, politically topical, just amazing. And the Joker’s bit with a pencil is the best bit of sleight of hand I’ve seen in years.

For the record, I also loved Iron Man and Hellboy 2, and Bolt was wonderful.

Barack Obama. Morning in America, Superman leading the Justice League to victory against the Injustice League, a black man taking the highest office in the land, an antidote to the small-minded, soulless corruption of the past decade in American life. Here’s hoping he lives up to his promise.

Mad Men. TV by and for smart people. This show is ridiculously entertaining, and operates on so many levels that it actually triggers synaptic action in the brain, a rarity on television.

Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog. Joss Whedon adds another classic to his resume, and becomes an internet pioneer at the same time. Songs good enough I get them stuck in my head for days and don’t mind. Hilarious wit laced with deep darkness and pathos. The lovely Felicia Day. And Bad Horse, of course, of course.

Doc Wilde. I received the galleys (advance reading copies) of my book, Doc Wilde and The Frogs of Doom, and after years of dragging my ass on my dream, it felt great to be able to hold a novel I wrote in my hands, flip through its pages seeing all these paragraphs I crafted, and stare at the cover and see the faces of my characters as they will meet their audience in bookstores. Not to mention reading over and over the great blurbs from Daniel Pinkwater and Quentin Dodd. They like me! They really like me!

Um…excuse my Sally Field moment there.

3o Rock. And Tina Fey in general. I’d never watched this show, though I was interested, because I try to keep my TV viewing down, and often avoid shows I suspect I’ll love. I finally broke down and watched the pilot episode, which resulted in days of binge-watching my way through seasons one and two and three. I’m caught up, and eagerly awaiting the show’s return. This show’s funny as hell, Tina Fey’s a marvel, Alec Baldwin gets to showcase his incredible comic skills, and Tracy Morgan’s a delirious delight.

Facebook. I wasn’t interested in Facebook. I was very cynical about it, saw no use for it. But wiser folks encouraged me to use it at the very least as a tool to make myself available to people interested in my writing, so I signed on. That wasn’t that long ago, but I’m already in steady contact with people I lost over the years, people in the writing and publishing community to learn from, new friends, old enemies (amazing how time and a viable net interface can make old grudges seem beneath notice), and people with similar interests with whom to share ideas and discoveries…

Pulp fiction. I’ve been reading a lot of classic pulp, and thoroughly enjoying it. I have enough to say about this that I’ll be tackling it in another post.

Joss Whedon. In retrospect, I should have just put Dr Horrible here. Leave it to Joss to earn a category all his own on my list of joy. In addition to the musical magic of the Sing-Along Blog, Joss gave the world season 8 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in comic book form, continuing Buffy’s adventures with panache and wit and emotional depth (the issues are collected in paperback, starting with The Long Way Home).

Also in comics, Joss wrote 25 issues of Astonishing X-Men, with amazing art by John Cassaday, which have also been collected. I got the second hardback collection recently and literally had tears in my eyes when I finished.

And, of course, Joss’s earlier work continues to provide enjoyment. I got to watch both Buffy and Angel from start to finish with my son this year, which I’d looked forward to doing for years, and it was awesome. Which brings me to:

My son. Nathaniel has adapted to the sundering of his family and the resulting radical changes in his life with great cheer and flexibility, and I admire and respect him for that. He remains, as always, the brightest star in my firmament, the only unceasing source of joy and meaning in my life.

Fractured Holidays

It’s been a weird holiday season.

As some of you know, in May I moved out of our family house and my soon to be ex and I have been splitting custody of my son 50/50. The divorce is in progress, a constant source of joy in my life, as you can imagine. Nonetheless, things are largely amiable between my soon to be ex (soon2bX? Maybe I can get that bit of 733t speak going), and my son has adjusted wonderfully.

So this is the first holiday season of our fractured family life. We spent the first several months of the year in mediation working out in tedious detail an agreement that the soon2bX has largely torn, shredded, and shat upon, but in that agreement we’d planned for my son to be here, at my new place, for Christmas this year.

As we got closer to the season, we realized that, if we stayed with our usual schedule, she’d have him for both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, though I’d have him for the other five days of the week. I suggested we just do the holiday as a family this year (we did that for Thanksgiving, and it went well), and I’d just come to the house on Christmas Day.

So that’s what we did. I told my son to call me when he got up, and I’d head right over, because I didn’t want to miss anything. He called at 1:50 am. I headed right over, because I’m game and, as I said, I didn’t want to miss anything.

As you can imagine, it made for a very long day. Naps were taken by the older two of our trio. But we had a great time, because we always functioned very well as a family, even though my romantic relationship with my wife was as vibrant as that between two corpses. Who never knew each other. Buried in different cemeteries. In different nations. On different planets. Ah, good times.

Now, the fracturing of the holidays gets even more granular, as it’s New Year’s Eve, and within the hour I’m due at the house for dinner…then we’re all coming back here to my apartment to hang out, play Little Big Planet, watch something maybe, listen to tunes, and welcome the blessed year when we get rid of the worst damn president this country has ever had. It’ll be a good time.

But still, there’s some psycho-spiritual whiplash, all the jumping back and forth, and the times my son isn’t around are shadowy. I feel even more mortal than usual, and I feel pretty damn mortal as a general rule.

But hey, I’ll be seeing him in about forty minutes, and my year will begin in his presence. And that should chase some shadows away.

Happy New Year.

Visiting the Gods in Lilburn, GA

My son’s Sunday school class, at the local Unitarian-Universalist Church, is learning about other world religions this year, and visiting various places of worship. My son is an avowed atheist, as I was at his age (I ultimately became very spiritual in a non-church, agnostic, rationalistic sort of way), but his mother makes him go on the weekends he spends with her.

Yesterday, though, the group was going out to visit the BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir (temple), the largest Hindu temple outside of India, which is in, of all places, Lilburn, GA, not what you’d generally consider a main center of culture of any kind, except maybe the sort you get at Walmart. I’ve been wanting to see this place since it was built, and have a huge respect for the Hindu faith, so even though it was my weekend with Nathaniel, I accepted his mother’s invitation for us all to go see.

The place is simply astonishing. Continue reading →

Citizen Tim

It’s official:

As of 8:50 am today, I have done my voting for the year.

I stood in line in the morning chill for two hours. I was proud to be there, proud that so many of my fellow citizens were ahead of me in line, proud that many, many more were behind me. It was like I was in some third world country, some fledgling democracy, where people actually give a damn.

I guess eight years of Hell can be bracing for the democratic process. It’s a pity that’s what it took.

I voted for Barack Obama to be President of the United States of America.

I voted for Jim Martin to replace the vile Saxby Chamblis as Senator from Georgia.

I voted for John Lewis to remain in Congress to represent my district.

I figure, if folks keep slapping down the Republican efforts to suppress the vote, they won’t steal it this time, as they absolutely did in 2000, and likely did in 2004.

It’s time for the USA to become a force of good in the world again.

Writing & Those Moods You’re Having

Start writing more. It’ll get rid of all those moods you’re having.
–Ray Bradbury

I used to have this quote on a sticky note stuck to my computer monitor, and it has never lost its wise charm for me. Bradbury is absolutely right: the act of writing, itself, is a great balm for heart and soul, and the gods all know by now I need that balm, these days more than ever.

I’m never happier or healthier than when I’m into a writing project full-tilt, over my head, spilling over. This isn’t to say that the writing is always enjoyable, because often it’s anything but. But the intense application of self  produces satisfaction and engages the brain in wonderful ways and an act of pure creation is a soulful thing.

Writing something can be hard work, but the hardest part is beginning. Oh, and keeping at it. Yes, those are the hardest parts, along with ending it. Other than that, it’s all a breeze. Continue reading →

Life on the Road

When he woke in the woods in the dark and the cold of the night he’d reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him.

When I decided to read The Road by Cormac McCarthy, I had no idea I was going to be exploring the landscape of my own soul.

Before I continue, rest assured I’m not going to spoil the book for you. I don’t do that. The quotes I use are from the first few pages. Also, be warned that there’s a movie coming soon, so if you’re like me and prefer to get to a book before the movie comes along and plants all the images in your head, you should read this soon if you’re so inclined.

The novel tells the story of a man and his son, wandering an ashen post-apocalyptic America, scratching to survive. It is not an adventure story, not in the sense that an adventure story is meant to excite the reader, to offer escape. It is not Mad Max.

What it is, is a harrowing vision of living even when there seems to be no reason to live. Living in a world that no longer gives sustenance, a world without sunlight, a world that breaks the body and the heart and the soul every minute of every hour of every day.

The man takes his son onward through this barren, wasted world, mostly alone. Their moments of victory are petty and rare, a dusty sackful of mummified apples, a cup of fresh water, a warm blanket. They live lives without hope or comfort. They yearn for death. But they keep going.

Why?

Then he just sat there holding the binoculars and watching the ashen daylight congeal over the land. He knew only that the child was his warrant. He said: If he is not the word of God God never spoke.

The boy. The man stays alive for his son. His son stays alive because his father stays alive for him. They’re in Hell. They have no hope. They have each other. It’s stark and real and painful, in no way sentimental. It’s true.

He watched the boy and he looked out through the trees toward the road. This was not a safe place. They could be seen from the road now it was day. The boy turned in the blankets. Then he opened his eyes. Hi, Papa, he said.

I’m right here.

I know.

This is my life.

Gilty As Charged (That’s a pun, not a Bushspelling)

I watch commercials. Sometimes. I dislike the narrative disruption they bring when I’m watching a TV show or movie (though I almost never watch movies that are edited altered or interrupted anyway), but I do enjoy the wit and style of the really good ads. At times, they’re better than the show they’re disrupting (I’m sure there were a few examples of this during the last season of Heroes).

Bad ads are generally just bad, hardly worth a cringe, made to scan past on the ol’ DVR.

Recently, though, there are some ads that I consider abominations. They hurt me inside when I see them because of what they say about at least a segment of humanity. John McCain’s ads fall into this category, and, upon reflection, I guess a lot of political ads in the past have as well, but you expect Rovian tactics from Rovian politicians, and it’s easy to dismiss them.

But the ads I’m really addressing today are the two new ads for American Express’s small business gold card. These ads are chilling in their lack of humanity, their embrace of business class values so goose-stepping and mean they’re on an ethical plane with kicking puppies. Continue reading →

Say Yes, and, to Colbert

A cool new acquaintance (Hi, JoJo!) of mine is involved in improv comedy classes locally, and talking with her reminded me of what may be the single best piece of motivational writing I’ve ever read. So I decided to share.

It’s from a commencement speech given last year, I believe, by master jester Stephen Colbert: Continue reading →

Tim Byrd and The Blogs of Doom

Hi.

For those who don’t know me, or have known me but don’t have great memory, or those who know me but are in denial, my name is Tim Byrd, and I’m a writer and a dad.

That is not in order of importance.

Anyway, I’ve blogged a bit in the past [NOTE: on 3/11/09, I imported the earlier blog and those entries are now available as part of this blog], and as part of a personal campaign to re-engage the world, plug my work, and make new friends, I’m blogging again. I’m also on Facebook, MySpace, and maybe shaking a tin cup outside your local Starbucks (I probably need a shave).

Next year, G.P. Putnam’s Sons is going to publish my first novel, Doc Wilde and The Frogs of Doom. The book is the first of a series depicting the adventures of Doctor Spartacus Wilde, super-scientist, gadgeteer, physical exemplar, warrior, and the coolest dad in the world except for me.

Doc has two brilliantly capable kids, Brian and Wren, who join him for his perilous travels, often saving the day (and the planet) themselves.

Anyone who enjoys grand old pulp adventure in the Doc Savage/Indiana Jones/The Shadow style should enjoy Doc Wilde. It’s written for young readers, but full of literary allusion and other stuff for smart folks of all ages.

Where’s the KABOOM? There’s supposed to be an earth-shattering KABOOM.

A great read from Mark Morford @ SF Gate:

I have been waiting patiently.

I have been staring with great anticipation out the window of my flat here in the heart of San Francisco, sighing heavily, waiting for the riots and the plagues and the screaming monkeys and the blistering rain of inescapable hellfire. I have my camera all ready and everything.

There has been nothing. I see only some lovely trees and a stunning blue sky and my neighbor walking by with her pair of matching chow chows as a pained-looking woman struggles to parallel park her SUV. Same old, same old.

And this is San Francisco, gay-marriage HQ, Sodom-and-Gomorrahville, debauchery central. We are supposed to be careening off the nice, safe road of social acceptability right now, welcoming chaos, exploding into a fiery hellmist of our own sick godless depravity and dropping off the disgusted planet any minute now.

Where is my raging apocalypse?

Click the quoted text to go and read the rest, yea and verily, yea.

Jesus.

Every so often, I see a flicker of light through the black clouds of the mass human soul…

Lisa de Moraes in her column in The Washington Post on Peter Jackson:

And, you have to admit, even 43 million viewers would be an incredible accomplishment for a four-hour broadcast that was monopolized by a fat, rumpled, dreary little man — given that most people watch the Academy Awards to spend quality time gazing on beautiful, slender, glamorous and, at least superficially, interesting movie stars.

Then again.

Astonishing

Look at the comment someone posted under the entry below regarding Firefly.

It’s a grass-roots ad for Mel Gibson’s Jesus flick, and against those who are protesting it for its alleged anti-semitism.

It’s bald-faced and has the sort of subtlety we love in our Christian fanatics.

Normally, I’d delete it, since it’s got absolutely nothing to do with anything I’ve discussed on the blog (though I’ve been mulling a comment about Gibson and his flick), but I find it an amusing enough piece of spam I’m going to leave it. The fact that I’m already somehow getting spam on here is actually a positive sign that somebody is reading.

And, Kyle…as far as Gibson’s Jesus movie is concerned, I can only go on what I’ve heard from all the parties so loudly shouting about it, and I have this to say:

It sounds like a brilliant piece of work.

It sounds like as dedicated a bit of proselytizing as a Lani Riefenstahl flick.

It sounds like an unrelenting bath in extreme violence, and I’m fine with that, since it’s in context, but I don’t particularly want to sit through it.

It sounds likely that it really is anti-semitic, considering the brand of Catholicism practiced by the Gibson clan.

I’ve always really like Mel Gibson and had a lot of respect for him, but he seems to be going off the deep end. His saying he wanted that reporter’s intestines on a stick and wants to kill the man’s dog didn’t give me confidence he was approaching this topic in a rational manner.

Bush’s America will make this movie HUGE.

And, Kyle, kiss my ass. My blog’s not here for your purposes, it’s here for mine.