Some kind comments regarding what I write have come my way recently. Ken Levines comment in the post before this one made me giddy with delight. Well, it lifted my mood. OK, OK. It made me take my head out of the oven. And only for about 43 seconds.
I don’t remember if I mentioned this earlier, but a couple of weeks ago, I proofread a sitcom proposal for Robert the director. The prodco he approached turned it down, and now Robert wants me to come aboard as a co-writer. He had read my “Sheep’s End”.
I turned him down for a number of reasons, not the least of which is my dreadfully packed life (which somehow finds far too many games of Freecell shoved into its cracks, where far too many equals any amount greater than zero). Another reason I gave him was that I didn’t think I was ready for that sort of work. He wrote, “As far as the chops go – don’t under estimate yourself. You have more talent than you realize.”
I don’t mean to brag. It’s just a data point. But it feels nice. I need to be coddled every once in a while.
I still haven’t had time to do any screenwriting this week, although I’ve created coursework and blogged. I think I feel down when I can’t write, which just makes it harder to start writing, and I get stuck in a vicious feedback loop that involves playing Freecell to acquire that visceral thrill of accomplishment. The coddling is a nice boost.
I may be in a bad mood today because my brain let me down. I woke up with a great set up, or joke, or whatever you want to call it. I was all chipper with gratification from Ken’s and Robert’s words, and somehow I thought of a way to relate it to bonobos (a.k.a. pygmy chimpanzees) and bananas. Bonobos are the closest living relatives to humans, and will screw just about anything at any time.
I got out of bed, lost some fluids, gained some other fluids, and got dressed – and couldn’t recall what I was going to say. My great idea has not returned all day. All I remember is the punch line, a line of dialogue: “Like a banana? Let’s fuck.”
It’s not funny anymore, and I can’t get it back to funny.
Speaking of euphemisms for sexual intercourse (two and counting in this post), an online friend referred me to N53 32′ 19.47″ W001 20’48.82″ in Google Earth. Evidence of adolescent aliens tired of making crop circles?
(The remnant scientist in me feels obligated to point out that all crop circles are human artifacts.)
Bonus evolutionary biology:
I note in my site stats that someone in the UK did a blog search for the name “Darren Naish” and I suspect it was the man himself. Darren, in case you’re wondering why I would consider you a celebrity, once upon a time, I was a Ph.D. student working with John Ostrom, and Tom Holtz and I shared TA duties in his intro to paleontology class.
Darren recently posted a fantastic overview of advances in whale evolution in his blog. Whale evolution fascinates me for its scientific implications with respect to the evolution versus creation debate.
In Charles Darwin’s time, very few primitive whales were known and all were sea creatures. As a thought experiment, return to that time and consider what evolutionary biology would predict about fossil whalekind to be found in the future. Consider what creationists would predict about fossil whalekind to be found in the future.
Who was right?
Intercourse! I’m late for carpool!