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Vaderchaun

Search your feelings, you know
you want to give me your lucky charms.

Together, we can rule the galaxy as father and crazy-little-green-Irishman-of-ambiguous-sexuality-with-a-suspicious obsession-with-little-children.

New marshmallows every year: impressive. Most impressive.


I was at Brian's apartment watching a movie with him and Adam. Some weird girl named Alli came over, and Brian and Alli retreated to his bedroom for some sweet innocent prior-to-sexual-relations talking giggling cuddling. Adam went to sleep. I was alone in the big blue apartment not really wanting to go home. I saw the darth vader mask. I saw the leprechaun hat. I decided that I would put the mask over my head, the hat over my crotch, and barge in on whatever unspeakables Alli and Brian were engaging in. I did not yet know Alli, however, and I was surprisingly in a less-than-completely-tactless mood. So I hesitated, contemplating the situation, searching my soul for courage bravery and absurdity. I went to the bathroom to change after five minutes of laughing to myself about the idea. I took off my clothes, turned my face into vader and my crotch into lucky charms, and I stared at myself in the mirror. And laughed. For about twenty minutes.

That night, I never actually got the guts to get into the room with the wandering eyes hands hearts. Alli and Brian are still together over a year later. Maybe that wouldn't be the case if Alli had so soon realized that her seemingly-stable soon-to-be-boyfriend had very seemingly-unstable friends.

A couple of weeks later, after I'd conversed with Alli and broken down certain social barriers and flirted with her a few times, dropping witty sexual innuendos left and right, I decided that, finally, vaderchaun would come to life. And come to life he did (Zing!). Brian took a picture. Now you get to see it.

Note the uber-sexy lines formed by the abdominal muscles just above my hips. Girls, apparently, like 'em. Look closer. Notice that they're uneven. I'm a physical phreak.

Swerve is a rap

song. By Gangsta Musik. Swerve right, swerve left, be a clone.

Everyday stuff.

Last night was the wrap party. I got rather inebriated, though it wasn't until we left 219 and went to Lavaca that I started to dance and say loud silly things with Adam. I had Yager (sp?) and therefore can't really remember the ride home. That doesn't happen to me very often... Yager is the forgetful juice, it's true it's true.

I've done some mining around MySpace on my recovery/lazy-as-a-nut day. I've found my best friend from second grade and my first 'one that got away,' who I never really had, was close to dating or whatever, anyway, it was awkward and included my leaving of soaking wet boxers on her mothers' sink after New Years.

Believe me, it wasn't as fun or sensually fulfilling as you might think. We dove into the pool at around midnight. We stayed up late playing stink pink, mostly just enjoying her company, because she's gorgeous. Seeing her picture reminded me of the visual similarities between her and Carly. I guess I do have a type after all: frikkin' hot!

The thing with sleeping inside is that my legs feel too warm, kinda dank and sweaty like a jungle without the pleasant growling of tigers or the reassuring sting of scorpions.

Also, I pooped green this morning. I mean Green. Like I'd eaten a chia-pet. It was textured, too, like a golf course, or a fungus. It made me think of Italy.

Speaking of which, check out www.noahsodano.com (link in my linklist), my good friend Noah Sodano's 'it's Not a blog' blog.

Actually, it looks really cool, and seems to be an interesting project. Check it out if you're bored, which you must be, since you're reading my bizzleog.

Going to meet with Brian some time over the next few days to figure out what we're going to do about a feature (I think we are resigning ourselves to the fate of Swerve becoming an international success). The problem will be choosing which story line, structure, framing, set-up, beginning, middle, end, etc., we choose. It could Swerve from being completely dialogue-driven to being slow and visually artsy to being a scifi adventure movie...

Might end up being a little bit of all three.

Swerve is a wrap

As Brian said in the beginning of his post, where to begin? I am much inclined toward two basic approaches in discussing the movie-making experience: 1) Give in-depth accounts of every rememberable moment whilst on set. 2) Say, simply, 'it was pretty cool, and I now feel more confident than ever that we're making a quality piece of art.'

I had the pleasure of serving in a multitude of roles:

I was a stand-in for Abby and Ryan.

I took the actors' jackets.

I gave the actors water.

I picked up toilet paper, cups, expensive LCD projectors, film, lights, pizza, water, mexican food, etc.

I was an extra. I got to sit with two pretty girls and mouth words silently. I generally said things like 'I need to go to the bathroom' or 'would you like to go make out behind the fence' or 'two of you, one of me, this could be fun!' Unfortunately, both pretty girls were attached to certain males within the context of what we Americans call 'relationships'. (I had a dream about making out with both girls at the same time that night, though they were both present in the body of one girl).

I moved things from one place to another.

I gave back massages to the Assistant Director and a couple of girls.

I flirted with a) the make-up girl, b) the 18-year-old Indian art-department assistant, c) the director of photography, d) the director's girlfriend, e) the line producer's girlfriend, f) the lead actress, g) the unit production manager, h) the line producer, i)the shorter, stouter, of the camera-operating Patricks

I sat in a chair next to the sound guy and witnessed the transformation of the words I had written into an everlasting visual and auditory format known as 'film.'

I teared up when Amy gave the speech in the park.

I bought VHS tapes the night before the first day of shooting. I, quite idiotically, bought the wrong kind of VHS tapes (I should've bought the normal, blank kind, but, instead, bought the kind used for a camcorder. wtf?) So, the morning of the shoot, I was sent on a mission: find a blank VHS tape before 7:00 a.m., when the shooting starts. I tried Randalls: out. I tried Walgreens: closed. I tried Albertsons: out. Next to the Albertsons was a Blockbuster that ostensibly didn't open until 10:00 a.m., but there were people inside. I ran over to the window. I knocked loudly on the glass front door. There were three people inside. The man raised his hands in a motion saying 'we don't open until ten.' I paced back and forth, worried, uncertain of what to do. I pounded on the glass again, motioning with a come-hither finger for the store employee to talk to me. I shouted, 'we're making a movie! We're making a movie!' as my fists pounded ecstatically against the shuddering glass. The employee looked bothered and bewildered and came closer. "Look, I need a blank VHS tape for an independent short film called Swerve. We're shooting at 7:00 a.m., and I need a blank VHS tape. Just give me one." "Sorry, I can't do that. Try a grocery store." "Look, I've tried every grocery store between here and the devil's anus-hole, and they're all out, or they're closed. There's nothing within miles of here. I need a VHS tape, and I need it now. I'm making a fucking movie!" "I'm sorry, man, I'm just inventory. I don't really work here." "I have five bucks. Just get one for me. I'll pay you. You'll figure it out. I need this. Now." "Sorry." "Forget you, douchebag. Blockbuster? More like You're as dumb as a block, buster."

Then I jumped dukes of hazardishly back into my car, sped away to evil Walmart, running through the aisles like a dying rabbit looking for food, I found the VHS tapes, ran to the checkout line, shoved my way to the front, slipped that credit card through that slider, got my tapes, ran out the front door, and zoom zoom zoom drove as fast as I could back to set, cursing traffic and raising my hands in angry ecstacy, firing beams from my eyes of 'move faster!' to moms with kids in minivans, shooting bolts from my mouth of 'why'd you have to die Today, motorcycle guy!' I pedaled to the metalled my way to
my destination, and, breathing heavy with stress and excitement, handed the beautiful blank VHS tapes to the camera-dude.

They ended up not using them because the VCR took too much energy.

I do think, maybe, that the presence of the writer on set was a good thing, especially since I was doing so much grunt work. I think it definitely let everyone know that the creators of the film are passionate about it and willing to do whatever it takes to help the movie get made. There were times, of course, when I had nothing to do, and was napping or getting a back massage from a pretty Indian girl. During these times, PA Paul would say, 'Being the writer is the way to go.'

When talking with people about the film, whether on set or at the light-shop, I often talked about the experience of working with PJ. "He's such a great guy," and "you'll know your film's going to look awesome" were phrases heard frequently. I have figured out the true nature of the situation, however. Everyone has a crush on PJ, but doesn't realize it, or isn't willing to admit it. Even the manly mumbling muscular mechanical guys, deep down, want some PJ lovin'. Brian admitted that he himself has a kind of crush on PJ, which is significant, because even though Brian Is half-woman, his naughty-bits are All man.

I felt awkward just now.

"PJ transcends sexuality," Brian says. "He's an angelic being," Brett says, half-jokingly. "It's true," says Brian.

The actors did an awesome job. It's amazing to me that we were able to get so much quality for 500 bucks (well, 825, if you include the microphone that Chris Doubek broke while he was in the bathroom). Amy and Chris have very different acting styles, and there were a couple of moments when that difference, combined with the deeply emotional nature of the material and the emotive differences between the characters, created some tension/stress. But Brian, who did an excellent job as director in all facets, as far as I could tell, talked them through it, and I think their performances were, in a way, better for it.

Film sets draw my favorite types of people: artsy folk and geeks. (my best friends, uncoincidentally, Noah [Colorado] and Brian [Texas], are both rare combinations of artsiness and geekiness...Brian has the non-jockish athlete-iness thrown in there too, which is nice)

I really liked sound-guy Chris. He was laid-back, funny, unassuming, and obviously good at what he did. I like Nathan too, but his job on the set was to be an asshole, so I didn't spend too much time joking around with him.

In fact, I got along well with most people on the set. Nobody tried to make out with me. I guess that means I'll have to fly back to Austin for the wrap party. I talked with Scott Kembrough for a while, and didn't realize he was the Scott Kembrough of many vague allusive conversations with the Fred Brian clan.

James and Tracy are rockstars.

Speaking of rockstars, I bought one on Monday, the last day of shooting. I was unloading food from El Mercado, so I put my Rockstar on the ground next to the tire. When I came back to the car, my Rockstar was gone. I then saw a bum take a swig of it, dump the rest out, crumple the can, and put it in his grocery cart. I can't believe a bum stole my rockstar!

I was, deep down, always worried that the lab would look cheesy. It doesn't. Many of our coolest shots come from that scene. I still am somewhere worried or wondering if the audience will be unable to figure out what's going on, and then they might let that ruin the movie for 'em.
eh, screw 'em.

Seeing the filmmaking process, I was encouraged that the look and sound of the film will be professional. After my tirade against Pure, I was deepdown afraid that my own movie would somehow stoop to that level of awfulness, and I would be a hypocrite screenwriteur. I am now quite confident that the movie will look great and sound good. And the actors did a pretty darn good job. So the success of the film now rests firmly back on the shoulders of the screenplay. eek. I don't know, I think it isn't bad. I suppose there may be a couple of lines in there that I might change or maneuver around "bootlaces and spandex feels awkward to me all of a sudden..." but, all in all, Brian and I are geniuses.

Last thing:

we're making a movie about 'the one that got away.' I've had two get away, (though only one would I want to come back...and three if you count Evan) In any case, Both Carly Ritter And Arianne Gold Called me out of the blue, after months of non-communication, while I was working on the movie.

Funked up.

Well, I'm going to Swerve my way on out of here.

check out filmjunkies.blogspot.com for pictures.

Swerve

*Like Jesus approaching the thirsty woman, it's coming along well.

*the bird, Leo, was awesome today, but I didn't see him as I was driving all 'round Austin.

*I have a funny story about scaring blockbuster employees at 6:45 a.m.

*our crew is awesome

*our director of photography reminds me of Randy Tano

*Rowers suck

*Bitchy dog owners suck

*Construction sucks

*Wind sucks

*It also blows

*I am quite tired

*I've been sick. Yesterday, the symptoms were worse (sooooorrrreee throat). Today, the tiredness was.

*I'm wearing a white t-shirt with red lettering. It says "Schlep."

*dance dance dance.

*neeeeed a massage

*Brian appears to be a pretty darn good director, from what I can tell

*I have two cool jackets. One, I wore. The other, I lent to producer James. Everybody gave James Compliments. nobody gave me any.

*weep

Spore

What a massive game this will be.

Still in Junktown...

Four basic options for sleeping tonight:

1) Friend-from-college (though not Close friend-from-college) Alicia lives in town, with her parents for now. She knows of couches where I could sleep.

2) Mother's friend-from-highschool Barb, whom I've never met, lives in Grand Junction, and sent my mother an email saying that, if I ever needed a place to stay, the house was open.

3) Pay 12 bucks to sleep at the campground where I car-slept last night.

4) Find a place to sleep for free. Be afraid of cops jumping through my window with flashlights to beat my head.


Not sure which I'm going to do right now. I'll keep you updated. I'm feeling like a bit of a hermit right now...not sure I really want to interact with people, especially people I don't know. But maybe I do. Sleeping in the car was fun, but I felt weird in the morning. Took a very long time to get my car in semi-organized state. Also, I watched Harold and Kumar go to White Castle, Wedding Crashers, and Thee Big Lebowski. That was allsome...

Darn it, though, that my two stalwart west-slopers were Both gone at the same time!!! One to Mexico, one to Vegas. Shouldn't have made those assumptions of their presence...

5) The Impact/Grad shift was fun. I feel as if I'm fighting off a sickness...good thing I have my hippie meds. I was a bit spacey/tired for it, but it was definitely the easiest 4 days I've had at work so far. (FYI: "Impact" = first few days of program for incoming students. They remain in silence the whole time, don't eat a whole lot, don't get a ton of sleep, etc. Supposed to make them compliant. "Grad" = last two days of program for students who are graduating..."Eagles," (the most advanced phase for the students) have one last night with their fellow grads from other teams. The following day is 'graduation,' which involves eating breakfast with their parents/relatives, demonstrations for the parents of the things their kids do out there (making 'wiggies,' 'survival packs,' and starting fires.) It was a pretty emotional thing to see these dudes with their parents for the first time in 60, 80, 95 days. Four of the kids who were graduating were kids that I'd worked with. It was good to be there, to say goodbye. Hopefully their lives go well. Hopefully I impacted them positively.

6) At the coffee-shop-bagel-place today, I was looking at my computer intently and typing. A young girl (3, 4, 5 or something) tugged on her mother's dress, pointed to me, asked her mother "is he angry." The mother responded, "no, he's just focusing." Time to shave the uni-brow. Maybe the beard too.

7) Survival Pack = the backpack that the students make out of cordage, webbing, and a tarp.

8) Wiggie = what the students sleep in: a sleeping bag wrapped in said tarp (done with a certain flare so as to make certain that the tarp is tight and does not unfold).

9) I have 4 yahoo fantasy basketball teams. One team's in first, one in third, one in fourth, one in seventh (twelve teams in each league). The one in fourth is on its way down, though, 'cause it relies too heavily on Jermaine O'Neal and Marcus Camby, both injured. Team in seventh is on its way up: I have Kobe, and he's averaged 49 points, 7 3's, and 9 rebounds in the past two games. I'd actually given up on that team, so I didn't maximize my players as well as I could have. D'oh!

10) Just found out today that the Longhorns won the title. Go horns! It would've been fun to be in Austin for that, I would imagine. I will be in Austin tomorrow night. yippee!

Stealing the wireless

Just so everyone knows, I'm on a random residential street in grand junction, stealing the wireless internet from some nearby house. Allsome.

love,
Brett

Wisdom of Ron

Ron Silliman, pre-eminent langpo post avant blogging-king, said that his New Year's resolution will be to 'Blog less, blog better.' Similarly, mine may be something like 'blog shorter, more often, and better.' The people want quirky little snapshot snippets on a frequent basis, not the uber-long Diaretic run-ons which are my tendency. The people also like links and pictures. One step at a time, though. And the people like lists. So here's one:

1) Slash said he's looking forward to hearing Chinese Democracy when it comes out in March of '06. I don't know how he knows, being that he's been 'estranged' (NOTICE PUN) from his mentally-troubled-lead-singer-friend for a decade. If it's true, that means my plans for the screenplay entitled 'Killing Axl Rose,' about a crazed internet-obsessed GNR fan killing Axl so that Chinese Democracy will see the light of day, may never come to fruition.

2) Oh well, there's always the road-trip buddy movie starring William Shatner (the crazy uncle), Christopher Walken (the crazy uncle's crazier friend), and Topher Grace (the shy, smart, sensitive, never-spontaneous-until-now youngster running down a dream/girl). It was going to be Zach Braff, but I've decided to hate him.

3) I am still stranded in Estes Park. My car broke down (battery/alternator problems). Good thing it happened in the Safeway parking lot in Estes instead of on I-70 east over Vail Pass deep in long traffic and ice-riddled snow.

4) Crippled laughter. I like the phrase.

5) I need to study language poetry. While I disagree with its politics, intentions, and goals, I think there may be something to the manner of expression (relying upon process, mathematical sequences, etc.). It seems akin to my recent idea of 'unnatural' or 'invisible' structures. Combining such method with more classical/universal/essential ideas and forms may bring about something of intrigue.

6) I have been writing a poem without the use of nouns, (except pronouns), verbs (except to-be verbs), adjectives, and adverbs. These parts of speech, of course, can be Created by combinations of prepositions, etc. (down-abouts, for instance, meaning 'phallus' or 'cock'). The first line and fifth lines are:

Once upon a we she was...
And now was her because.

The poem is of five-line stanzas, iambic, (tetrameter, trimeter, dimeter, dimeter, trimeter), rhyme scheme A B B B A, and it is, of course, about a chick, and losing said chick to other dude, about chick losing other dude, and ending up everyone with nothing. Or something. I just wanted to use 'down-abouts,' really. Also, it's incomplete, and probably sucks.

7) My first night sleeping in civilization, I woke up thinking I was still outside, with some vague ghost figure wearing a headlamp off in the distance fiddling with his hands (was probably a streetlight viewed through the window). When I realized where I was, however, I still saw the man with the headlamp on. Then I went back to sleep.

8) I still am convinced that I saw a billboard while driving from Austin to Dallas which said 'We Clean Up Suicides, So You and Your Family Don't Have To.' Another screenplay-idea is in the works with this, about a morbid kid who joins up with that company as an employee to study the best ways to commit suicide, then comes to some realization of the beauty of life, then decides not to kill himself. Then maybe he gets hit by a car, if I wanna be silly about it. Could be good for a 'oooh, artsy/depressive/quirky/beautiful' short. Maybe he has a desert landscape inside his penis too.

9) Most exciting part of my job so far: tracking down and catching a criminal as he ran through the woods, doing so in five minutes, astonishing the prison-children with my trackstar speed, receiving many high-fives and 'kick ass'es from my hardcore coworkers for a job well done.
Shittiest part of my job so far: sleeping next to a kid on suicide watch who was shitting himself all night long. A quote from three in the morning ('grump' is our word for 'bathroom' and 'shit'):
Student M: "Brett, can I use the grump?"
Staff B: "You sure you have to go?"
Student M: "Yeah man, I gotta go bad."
Staff B: "Alright. Go for it."
Student M: "...Oops."

10) Yeah, yeah, I know this was 'long,' but it covered a lot of territory and was broken up with the list-format, and I have little else to do right now. Also, if you're reading this, you're Brian, so you're probably interested in this sort of stuff, even if it is repetitive.

10.5) Matt Nania, if you are reading this too, I Will be marrying your sister someday. No joke. You Know I'd be a caring husband, a fun brother-in-law, and an awesome 'wacky-but-endearing' uncle for your future children. I also have a beard that, when dyed white, would turn me into a splendiferous skinny-hippie-Santa. The Nania-clan needs some Swanson in it, and you know this...so help a brutha out!