Sunday, January 8, 2012

the blue light was my baby


So I was going to write this post a while ago about how disappointed I was in the Postal Service.

Eh... whatever.

It's kind of a non-issue, like when people who want to be President of the United States of America talk about amending the Constitution of the United States of America in order to "protect" marriage against gay human beings.

That's probably the dumbest thing anyone who wants to be President of the United States could ever talk about in 2012. It is dumber than talking about the current season of Doctor Who, which, I am told, is a television program that I have never seen.

One time I told somebody that I had never seen Doctor Who.

You know what he said to me?

He said this:

That is really sad.

I did not know my life was really sad because I had not ever seen Doctor Who.

I thought all the sadness in my life was due to other things.

See how stupid and misled you can be when you do not watch television?

Anyway, that same guy -- the one who shook his head woefully and said That's really sad when I said I have never watched Doctor Who -- you know what I did to him?

I made him a character in a book I wrote and killed him.

I do that kind of shit a lot.

Oh yeah? You think it is "sad" that I do not watch Doctor Who?

Well, take that, motherfucker.

I was angry at the US Postal Service because of this important stuff I had sent to this important kid on the other side of the country, and the US Postal Service never delivered it.

There ought to be a Constitutional Amendment banning lost packages. It could come right after the one that forces me to stop killing people in my books who judge me harshly and find happiness by watching Doctor Who.

Are the Doctor Who fans getting pissed off at me?

Yesterday, I think I pissed off everyone in "Hollywood," as well as Andrea Bocelli fans, and possibly the Republics of Italy and North Korea, too.

I failed to mention that the movie I had watched had James Franco in it.

I think James Franco should run for President.

Or, maybe, he should be appointed Postmaster General.

James could do it.

I think those might be the last two things on James Franco's to-do list.

Me? I need to clean my office.

Remember the 12-year-old kid named Ian, who was solely responsible for bringing me out to Miami in November for the Miami Book Fair International?

Ian's a big fan of all things Marbury.

Well, it was probably the best thing I have ever participated in as a writer. So, before I left Miami, I got to spend some time with Ian, and I told him I would send him some original manuscript pages from Passenger, which is the sequel to The Marbury Lens, as well as a poster for The Marbury Lens.

So, I packed all that stuff up in one of those unstoppable cardboard tube things at the beginning of December and sent it off to Ian -- via the un-James-Franco administered US Postal Service.

It never got there.

I was bummed.

Ian was bummed. I know what it's like, being 12 and waiting for something to come in the mail. It is like a black hole.

Worse, I think Ian may have entertained the thought that I didn't do what I told him I was going to do.

I can't stand people who break promises to kids.

Now THAT should be a Constitutional Amendment, you stupid idiots who want to be President of the United States of America: There will be no breaking promises to kids.

Also, the pages I sent him were my FAVORITE pages -- from an original manuscript -- that no longer, apparently, exist in this universe. I sent him about 10 pages of this really creepy scene that takes place in the middle of the wasteland of the Marbury desert.

Part of that scene is on my Writing page on my website.

Some people who have read that short excerpt have guessed that it has something to do with Seth, the ghost from The Marbury Lens. I am not going to tell them if they are right or not. I will only say it is a very creepy scene.

So, anyway... I packaged up a new set of pages (from three different parts of Passenger), another The Marbury Lens poster, and a handwritten (well, printed, actually, since I can not handwrite) letter to Ian and shipped them all off -- again. But this time, it was with UPS.

I think it's cool to send handwritten letters to people, even if my writing looks like a nervous seven-year-old who needs to pee really bad and cannot write on horizontal parallels.

I have heard that James Franco has very nice penmanship.