In no particular order except how they come to mind. SPOILERS.
Black Summer is offered as a prequel to Syfy’s zombie series, Z Nation. It is produced by John Hyams, Karl Schaefer, who were also among the Producers of the original. But, to me, Black Summer is as much a prequel to Z Nation as the Fox series Gotham sets us up for Adam West’s take on Batman. Black Summer is a straight-up zombie survival tale with a completely different and sophisticated structure, technically wonderful and sometimes astonishing in its complex cinematography. It is also very…very..gray. There are no Juggalo/Hillbillies or wacky con men, “z weed” and no humor at all, really. Continue reading
I’ve been up since 1:30 thinking about the rest of my life. Today is going to be a slog.
Yesterday marked the anniversary of one man’s death. You don’t know him but he worked with and for me. He was a remarkable human being in the sense that he was dedicated and disciplined in his work, thoughtful and deliberate in his analysis. He had a sardonic sense of humor and I am glad to say I was able to learn a lot from him before he left us. He is remarkable in my estimation because he was all those things consistently as well as that rarefied “good man” we keep hearing about living among the unicorns and Bigfoot.
It is the circumstance of his departure that troubled me when he died and again this morning as I consider who I am and what I want to do with whatever time I have left here.
See, a year ago a man died at work conducting a routine bit of business. The details of that business I cannot recall. His cause of death was natural. He suddenly was no longer part of the machine. The machine rolled on churning out report after report, fattening up the files draws with documentation of things no one will ever ask about again.
He did not die among friends or family. He left for work, said his goodbyes and that was it.
Since that day, within the short span of twelve months, several more people I’ve known left the machine. Three (that I can recall without thinking too hard about it) took their own lives. One left a suicide note in the form of a meme on Facebook. They all lost their fight with something as bad or worse than cancer: their own minds.
We continue to yell “fuck you” to cancer and it just grins and replies, “You might be next” as it flatlines another too-good/too-young victim.
The idea that I might leave this planet while reviewing the ninth draft of a report that means nothing beyond the egos and ambitions of those driving it chills me. The idea that I might feel a punch in the chest and the seizure of my heart while sitting in a pointless meeting rather than at home or in hospice surrounded by people I love terrifies me.
“Remember Jay, the writer?”
“Oh, he just popped a vessel in his head while writing a report.”
“Wait. He didn’t die of an accident as a result of stupidity?”
“Nope. Death by bureaucratic ennui.”
“Fuck me, I backed the wrong horse on that bet.”
As an adult, one of the ways I try to suppress my anger and other negative urges is to visualize the dollar amount of my next paycheck. I didn’t have to do that much because I enjoyed my job and what I did. As I reach the sad but objective realization that I will never support myself or even make part-time wages off of my writing, I’ve realized that I am really not that great at anything and will leave no lasting legacy.
Yes, I have wonderful kids, but they are that way in large part despite of me.
When I go, there is a three-year retention limit on all the work I’ve put into those filing cabinets after which the paper will be recycled for the next analyst to ponder how to best define the distinguishing characteristics between someone at one pay grade or another. And there will be no urgency to suddenly publish my short stories from my hard drive.
I’d say that my 20-something self would be ashamed and embarrassed by me but, just between you and me, that guy was an asshole. (Don’t tell him I said that. He has a fragile ego.)
If you’ve reached this far and feel as I do, you’ve no doubt classified all this as first world whining by a privileged and entitled white, heterosexual, CIS-gendered male. You would be right except I am paralyzed by what to do about it.
Change is more terrifying than depression is demoralizing. I don’t know if that makes outside my own head, but that’s my experience.
It’s my job to get over that, to fix it, and move on. Work the problem. Meanwhile the words of a relative INFANT (at the time) cycles through my head.
You run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking.
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way, but you’re older.
Shorter of breath, one day closer to death.
Every year is getting shorter,
Never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught,
Or half a page of scribbled lines.
Remember the little bastard Roger Waters wrote that in his TWENTIES.
Twice along that lifespan, here I am with naught plans and scribbled line.
I have no message here. I have no advice. The vessel is empty and these are the only words I can spare before I have to invest the rest toward someone else’s ambitions. If I have a purpose in the moment it is for me to come back in a day or a week, at some point when the cloud isn’t so thick and the voices of self-doubt so clear, and read this again.
What has changed? What are you doing so you never come back to this ugly place again, Jay? When, at long last, you find the stirring anthem to pull you from your cowardice, HOW will you sustain it? This is a public charge because I know too many of my friends are in the same brain state. Three punched out because they couldn’t get out of this place. Find the key, a rock, a crowbar…and GTFO of here, man. And in case you forget, that’s a metaphor. Find your bliss again. Race after it like the idiot in the third act of a dopey rom-com. DO IT, because you know what this place gets like after a while ripening down here.
Question: What is the value of a “Letter to the Editor” in the age of Internet comments?
I ask because Internet comments share the worst of our collective discourse on important topics and issues. There are no standards for making or confronting an “argument” and most statements are colorful assertions or troll bait.
Letters to the Editor, on the other hand, are supposed to be something different. For as long as newspapers have been printed, they offer space for the “common person” to share ideas and thoughts. Usually, these are well-crafted missives that, while sometimes lacking in objectivity, provide the reader with a different perspective. These letters are vetted, edited, and presented as thoughtful essays bringing value to the broader discussion.
So, when I read a “letter” headlined, “A few questions for all you Democratic Socialists” I had to wonder if the line between Internet Troll and Concerned Citizen has faded a bit.
Local man Ron Keller had his letter posted in pennlive.com and I share it as an example of the kind of empty rhetoric that should not find the spotlight in a professional publication.
Here is the letter and my commentary.
Here’s [Here ARE, plural] a few questions for all of you Democratic Socialists who are blindly wishing for a socialist form of government in America.
Within the construct of “I’m just asking questions here,” the writer has conjured a group of people to address. The trouble is, he has described, labeled, and judged them in one sentence, negating any chance of a reader identifying with his “target audience.” No one reading this description would recognize themselves even if they hold values similar to what the writer is actually trying to describe.
First, we have “Democratic Socialists” qualified by the subset of those who are “wishing for a socialist form of government in America” further qualified by those who are “blindly” doing so. At this point, I bet there’s maybe one sight-impaired, self-described Democratic Socialist Extremist having this letter read to him by his buddy Carl who just wants to share how stupid this “letter” is. Otherwise, no one self-identifies as “blindly seeking” anything.
Second, the writer is creating a caricature and copy-pasting it into a group, assigning one driving thought behind it. Who are these people? One name? It helps the argument if you relate it to real people and ideas rather than some faceless boogeyman.
Third, it’s never a good idea to judge someone while identifying them. Using context clues, I can tell the writer is looking to address those with socialist-leaning values in order to warn them against the bad things he believes will result. Okay, fine. But in this format, you may want so simply address the audience as “Hey, idiots!”
Have you lost your collective radical minds?
“Collective”- Ha! I see whut u did dere.
Implying there’s a hive mind further pushes aside any kind of helpful content for invective. It’s also a rhetorical question. The writer expresses, hyperbolically, perhaps, his belief that people he has only vaguely identified are mentally ill. This is far from a reasoned, constructive approach to winning hearts and minds. From a structural standpoint, the writer blew his salty wad on an awkward first paragraph. This “question” is basically the payoff of “Hey, idiots! Are you CRAZY?!”
And let’s not forget our young millennials. Do you have even the slightest understanding of what socialism really is; much less a knowledge of its origin, history, and goals?
Here’s another faceless boogeyman, this ignorant and brash (latest) generation. They know nothing. Every younger generation knows nothing. Easy target to create and hit.
Because you are young, even if you are educated, you can’t possibly understand what you believe in the slightest. There’s no evidence here that the writer has done any research into why “our young millennials” believe what they do enough to set up even the slightest poor rationale for a knock-down. It’s another rhetorical question that assumes facts not in evidence. What is the value of asking questions in a letter? Is it the value of the insinuation? Is it the “snark” alleged in the wordplay?
Change the question to a statement. “Our young millennials do not have the slightest understanding of what socialism REALLY is. They have never studied it in history class.”
See what happened there? A statement can be challenged. A question can be answered, but this isn’t a conversation. Further, the writer isn’t interested in hearing an answer. He’s just not bold enough to make the statement.
I strongly suggest that you do a little research on socialism before you support politicians that want you to have a form of government that you will undoubtedly detest if you ever have to live under its tyrannical grasp. Are you really gullible enough to believe that all the “free stuff” your Socialist Democrats will offer you is really “free.” Truth is, as a taxpayer, you will fund every penny of your government’s benevolence.
SO much to unpack here without even trying to disagree with his blunted point.
So far in this “letter” has established the writer’s unsubstantiated belief in a nebulous group of people representing values he opposes. He has created this entity, assumed it to be of some size and scope, and challenged it, weakly.
It’s like a letter to the editor confronting “The Dragon on Third Street” without any context as to who the dragon is and what it believes, or even proof IT EXISTS, before saying it must be slain. Let’s work through this:
Have you been paying attention to what socialism has done for Venezuela and much of Europe? These countries have gone from the penthouse to the outhouse in a very short time. What a tragedy that your ultra-leftist comrades are setting up our great America for failure.
In what could be an astonishing closing argument, the final paragraph reads like the last idea of someone who runs out of time on a soapbox and throws out a few extra talking points. There’s nothing to tie the writer’s “better” ideas into a shot against the opposition. It ends with a dire message that reads more like paranoia and “old man yells at cloud” mentality. Not only did the writer fail to create a relatable target of his screed, but he also failed to identify a single, specific idea to confront with better ideas. Instead, we have someone who creates a caricature of the kind of person conservatives believe exists and taunts it with weak “questions” that could never be answered. There isn’t even the strength of a direct accusation to make this an ad hominem attack (“ARE you stupid, crazy, and gullible?”) The writer is always free to take any confrontation about this piece, hold up his palms and say, “Hey, I’m just ASKING here.”
In essence, this entire letter fails to rise to a level of satire or even humor. It is a letter without reasoned opinion, a comment under a more substantial editorial, little more than the old Simpsons headline “OLD MAN YELLS AT CLOUD”. Yet, somehow, someone felt the writer’s words were worthy of more attention.
In conclusion, what makes this letter worthier of a showcase than any other newspaper comment under an article? I’ll offer an actual answer: There isn’t one.
I’m a little late to the party, but that’s me. I like horror stories at Christmastime. Ghost stories make sense at Christmas. Dickens taught so, too.
So I was hooked on the slow-burn of Netflix’ re-imagining of Shirley Jackson’s classic American haunted house novella, “The Haunting of Hill House.” I forgave the original story dressed up in someone else’s intellectual property and enjoyed this family drama with supernatural elements told out of order. This morning, I watched the final episode.
Captain Kyle can be spotted at conventions all over the east coast as one of many characters, including “Q” from Star Trek: The Next Generation, The Governor from The Walking Dead, and others. But there’s more to this cosplayer and actor than his fashion sense. Jay talks to the performer, author, and host of Fandom Spotlite, about growing up in a time before being a geek was cool, the joys and challenges of performing and providing information to fandom.
“WHY?!” is produced by Holden Smith and Jay Smith with music by Kevin MacLeod. The show is sponsored by ARCHIVOS: Your Stories, Illuminated.
Captain Kyle and others will be appearing at Sci-Fi Saturday in Harrisburg PA, September 22, 2018 at 2nd & Charles, Harrisburg Mall.
In this episode of “WHY?!” Jay talks with podcaster, author, and child of The Muses, Dave Robison. They talk about keeping motivated, finding the joy in the work that comes with creation, the long game of building a career, and the importance of the solitary artist to indulge in collaboration to experience the world from different perspectives.
Also, we introduce PROJECT: ARCHIVOS, a contest to create a unique story based on elements by our guests.
“WHY?!” is produced by Holden Smith and Jay Smith. Music by Kevin MacLeod. The program is sponsored by ARCHIVOS: Your stories, illuminated. www.archivos.digital
This episode introduces the series. *WARNING LANGUAGE*
Creating the series, Jay Smith attempts to explain how his life intersects some interesting and successful people. He explains his situation using a metaphor that, while apt, is not appropriate for younger listeners. So, like, don’t play this on the car radio with the kids on route to extra-currics. And not with your pastor. Or people who hate the word F*ck.
And, for the record, “F*ck” is a metaphor for “candy”.
And “candy” is a metaphor” for “caring about things”.
This episode introduces the series. Jay Smith explains why he needs to keep refilling his Box of Fucks and how it is important to keep giving them when the time and energy required to do so doesn’t support the desire. We embark on a journey to recapture fucks to give by listening to artists, writers, and other creatives. But here is Jay’s preamble and explanation.