dan's blog

New Book in the works

2012-01-14T08:07:00.001-05:00

My newest book, "Booze and News" is at the printers right now. I'll order a proof later, and it should be available later this month.

random

2012-01-04T07:25:00.002-05:00

A grown man who laughed too hard at a video clip from one of the Jackass movies.

Read

2012-01-02T21:34:00.001-05:00

Franz Kafka, The Invisible Writing by Arthur Koestler

four seals:

2012-01-01T22:16:00.001-05:00

1. all composite phenomena are impermanent
2. all contaminated things and events are unsatisfactory
3. all phenomena are empty and selfless
4. nirvana is true peace

Man on a wire

2012-01-01T12:42:00.001-05:00

Watching MAN ON A WIRE on Netflix.

I Love America... For Freedom.

2011-12-31T12:22:00.001-05:00

In the grocery store parking lot, I helped an obnoxiously patriotic old-man veteran of some dumb war or another (his clothes and his scooter were covered with every possible patch from military units; little American flags waved all over the place; he wore one of those funny hats with even more stickers, patches and pins) free his mobility scooter wheel from the raised edge of the hydraulic lift designed to gloriously lower him from his van, which in turn was festooned with way too many "I'm a veteran" stickers and logos. His service dog whined helplessly from inside. Later, inside the grocery store, America's "Horse With No Name" played over the subliminal Muzak machine where I purchased various snacks for tonight's New Year's Eve bacchanal.

Hospital lobby

2011-12-30T13:09:00.001-05:00

5 young medical professionals stare into their iPods silently as Joe Jackson's "Stepping Out" plays softly in the Starbucks coffee bar across the way.

Nathanael West

2011-12-29T18:11:00.002-05:00

Nathanael West, Cormac McCarthy

Dick Clark Prepares for New Year's Eve #3

2011-12-29T06:55:00.001-05:00

Under cover of darkness, Zombie Dick Clark is whisked away in a black SUV to the furthest reaches of the Denver International Airport to a much-unused runway and an unmarked private jet. A lone passenger has already boarded and dreads his arrival; during the flight to New York, Zombie Dick Clark will receive the last of a series of horrifying blood transfusions. A sullen Christina Aguilera has sadly accepted her fate; the show must go on, yet she is overcome with ennui.

Dick Clark Prepares for New Year's Eve #2

2011-12-28T11:10:00.002-05:00

Dick Clark's animated corpse relaxes in a white bathrobe on the balcony of his Crowne Plaza hotel suite in downtown Denver. * A man from an unspecified government agency briefs him on key events of 2011. To re-acquaint Zombie Dick Clark with his distant past, a television plays classic reruns of American Bandstand. In an adjoining room, being prepped for a series of hideous blood transfusions is a sobbing Stacy Ann Ferguson. Despite the best efforts of her attorneys, the contract is ironclad; she must endure the procedures.

* he is immune to cold.

Preparations for the New Year #1

2011-12-27T14:38:00.000-05:00

Deep beneath the Denver International Airport, the corpse of Dick Clark is wheeled out of the cryogenic chamber to the center of a pentangle drawn on the floor of the re-animation chamber. Five red candles are lit. Eerie, unearthly chanting is piped in through unseen speakers in the ceiling. In a room nearby, being prepped for a series unorthodox blood transfusions, is an anxious Ryan Seacrest.

The Beast of Kandahar

2011-12-20T11:20:00.001-05:00

The Beast of Kandahar
Landed in my Backyard
It winked and said I was a 'Tard
We ate some chicken Fried in Lard

The Beast of Kandahar can See
What people Do So Secretly
It writes things down DiliGently
It kicks up High Just Like Bruce Lee

The Beast of Kandahar is Best
At Finding Out at the Behest
Of Men who Know and are Well Dressed
You are Almost Under Arrest

The Beast of Kandahar
Can Spy with Its Electric Super-Eye
All things Below And Snitch and Lie
To Creep-Spies who Identify.

The Beast of Kandahar
And I are Best of Friends
We go to Dinner, Drive Around
It soars On High Without A Sound

The Beast of Kandahar
Flies High Above The USA
And Saves the Day from Terrorist Elves*
To Save the People From Themselves

The Beast of Kandahar
Sends Pictures of My Neighbor
Sunbathing Nude in Her Backyard
I Love The Beast of Kandahar

* Give me a break, what I needed something that rhymed with "themselves"

graph paper stuff

2011-12-13T17:01:00.002-05:00

Cervantes.
Verisimilitude; scintillate; Valdes Leal; sardonic; taciturn; obsequious
Book Notes: Basim forbids dancing. Lamya dances for Sabir to spite her husband.

Reading A Writer's Notebook by W. Somerset Maugham.

2011-12-10T23:25:00.001-05:00

Here are some notes, written on green graphpaper. It makes a great list of thingsI know nothing about:

Le Cid; Gogol; Lermontov; Turgenev; Chekov; Byron,Shelly, Walter Scott; Thackery; The Revisor; Congreve; Wycherley; Schoolfor Scandal; Kotzebue's Kleinstadter; She stoops to Conquer; G.B. Shaw;Ruritania; Katzenjammer; Sacher Masoch; The Hounds of Heaven; Oblomovism;Eugene Sue; flipperty-gibbet; Julien Sorel; El Greco; Resurectionby Tolstoi; Octave Feuillet or Cherbuliez; Flaubert; Maupassant; Concourts;Huysmans; Princess Mathilde; Herzen; Bakunin; the reign of Alexander II; UvarIvanovitch Stahov; On the Eve; A House of Gentlefolk; AnthonyTrollope; demagogues; compte rendu; Balzac; Jane Eyre; The Waverley Novels;peroration; Saint-Just; Bolsheviks; Charles Frohman; The Roman Empire ofHeliogabalus; Polynesian Garden of the Hesperides; the book Main Street;epigrammatic; mythomaniac; Le Cousin Pons; sycophancy; turbid

stuff written on graph paper

2011-12-10T09:20:00.001-05:00

1. Saturnine countenance
2. Alexandre Tharoud, Erik Satie: Avent Dernieres

Scotty wore a red shirt

2011-12-09T20:13:00.001-05:00

Scotty wore a red shirt. He beamed down to the surface. He survived. You will survive too. You are not an extra, you are a recurring character.

this ungodly hour

2011-12-09T10:24:00.001-05:00

Who is awake at this ungodly hour? Who guns their car down empty boulevards? Who types hyperbole into the ether, in darkness, into phantom glowing keys? Who drinks alone in front of dying embers? Who stands the watches of the night, in restaurants, gas stations, Walmarts, cop cars, army bases, shotgun shacks and marble kitchens? Who is awake at this ungodly hour?

graph paper notes

2011-11-30T06:46:00.001-05:00

Dunsanian?
Pearl Buck?
Charles Dexter Ward?

For the book, give characters ticks (nerves) or other maladies, real or imagined.

random things written on graph paper

2011-11-29T07:08:00.001-05:00

Ovid's "Art of Love"?
clapboard?
the lurking future may not come at all
plug hunters
tiny triangular sandwiches

Today I Did Something Really Dumb

2011-11-20T20:06:00.001-05:00

Today I did something incredibly dumb. Not costly dumb, not anything with seriousconsequences, just something really dumb.

I had to drop our car off at the mechanic's at theirovernight drop-off place, where you leave the keys after hours so in the morning they canget to work on it right away. So Idrive up to the garage and they have a key drop-off slot. I get out of the car and lock the door.

But as soon as I go to drop they keys off, I find they havethese envelopes where you have to fill out a form and it says, "You mustsign here."

Well, I had nothing to write with; the pens were in the car,and the car was locked, so I walked to the grocery store (nearby, just a coupleof blocks away) and I get a pen from a cashier, fill out the form and walkback.

I put the keys in the envelope and put the envelope in theslot, and walk home.

Now I know you see what I missed. I had the keys the whole time! Something about the pending putting-the-keys-in-the-slot made me think Icouldn't get back into the car. I hadthe keys in my pocket the entire time.

I didn't realize my mistake, even after returning to themechanic's place, putting the keys in the envelope/form and putting the keys inthe slot.

I didn't realize my mistake during the walk home.

I only realized my mistake while telling my daughterabout why it took me so long to get back later that night. I started telling her and I suddenlyrealized how dumb I had been. I still can't believe I had the keys, but thought for some reason I couldn't get back into the car to get a pen.

My Bold Statement against Censorship

2011-11-18T16:44:00.001-05:00

Here is my bold statement against the bipolar state of sexin consumerism and half-assed censorship! They try to hide the cover of Cosmopolitan with a metal plate, but theycannot stop me from expressing my distain for all things prudish andcowardly! What a rebel I am! I put a copy of Cosmopolitan over everyother magazine on the magazine rack. Try to hide the objectification of women now! They would sell us the image of glamour, but they would hide it fromus at the same time? Not with DanManning, performance artist on the loose! What a bold statement! What avant-gardedisdain for provincial sensibilities!

Or, I was just bored, whatever.

Happy Friggin' Veteran's Day

2011-11-11T07:30:00.001-05:00

Friday Ramblings

2011-11-04T10:56:00.001-04:00

Everything in the man-made world is an idea or thought. The wording of a billboard, the font used on a website. Roads and walls and books and plastic happy meal toys are all based on the thoughts of other human beings. The screen you are staring into, the windshields you peer out of are all the result of ideas piled onto ideas onto ideas, back to the development of glass to the idea that fire might be controlled and made useful. The very thoughts that we think are the result of the thoughts of others.

Our habits are based on the habits of others. What we find acceptable is based on the subset of activities found acceptable by the humans around us.

But WHY does the man made world even exist? There was a point not long ago when we just scrounged around for food, reproduced, and fended off threats from cold, predators, and other bands of humans. Back then there was just one or two motivating factors:

Where am gonna get more food?
How am I gonna make babies?

Now we have specialized skills, or at least, we are put to specialized tasks. We fix roads or drive trucks or sell trucks or design trucks. We paint or preach or type numbers into spreadsheets. We hunker down in cubicle dungeons, or fly jet airplanes. Humans have decided that other people can grow the crops and raise the cattle, others can slaughter the cattle and others can drive the meat around. Others can process it and package it. Others can cook it. Others can bring it to our table. We get to enjoy it with steak sauce.

How many different ideas are involved to make it possible to walk into a restaurant (restaurants! What an amazing concept) have someone prepare a steak, have someone else bring it to us, all for some pieces of paper with the pictures of long dead leaders on them, or even more amazing, in exchange for the honor of holding on to a rectangle of plastic for a few minutes, and then to return it to us, physically unchanged.

Why this world of music, conditioned air, PEZ dispensers and intercontinental ballistic missiles?

We are primates with the ability to record our thoughts. We can put down our thoughts so that others can later read those thoughts, build on those thoughts, or dismiss thoses thoughts as bullshit.

I know that there is no intrinsic meaning to any of this, yet my life is meaningful (at least it seems meaningful). Life is rich and full of wonder. The man made world is full of amazing ideas. Amazing concepts and things. Art and sports and literature and video games. That along with the NATURAL world makes eighty or a hundred years on this planet as a human pretty sweet.

I write this in a Panera Bread. I know, what am I doing in an outlet of everything corporate? I don't know, I have some time to kill while I wait for my next appointment. When I'm done writing this, I'm gonna read a book that was published in 1874. I'm going to get lost in a story about people who never existed. How glorious that there are books. How thankful I am for the aproned man who just took my bagel tray away for me. What miracle, my cell phone. It is Friday. It is good to be alive!

a sample from my current draft

2011-11-03T19:41:00.001-04:00

"What business," the man said haughtily,"brings you hither?"

Oh gods, thought Sabir. Flowery speaker. Oh well,better play along. "I seek thewisdom of the Library of Sauji," said Sabir said, bowing low. "I am a humble student; I seekknowledge."

"Knowledge or wisdom?" asked the fat man. "They are not the same thing."

Sabir thought for amoment. Was this a real question, orwas the gentleman just joking? "Knowledge," Sabir said. "Knowledge."

The fat man closed his eyes, and very deliberately twistedthe end of his mustache. "Whatknowledge do you seek?"

"My master, who lives in a distant land, suffers fromthe most hideous headaches," replied Sabir. "He sleeps not through the night, and is wasting away fromthe pain."

"You are a physician then?"

"I am a magician," Sabir said.

"A magician that cures the sick," the manlaughed. "What a wonder thisis! Are you a magician, or a physician?"he chuckled and looked at his attendants, who smiled at his jest. "It is one golden dinar per day toenter the library."

"It will take me several days to find what Iseek."

"Then it will take several dinars, unless you can readvery quickly!"

"That seems like a lot."

"We can't have the rabble in here reading. They might give themselves airs. They might get strange ideas in theirheads."

"Such as?"

"The average lout," the fat man explained withsome importance, "has no business reading. He has no business worrying himself with ideas of philosophy orscience. Take the common laborer. He knows his place. He knows that The Maker of All Things hasput him in his place to carry his load. He learns that when he learns his prayers as a child. What will we do if the laborer decides he istoo good to carry his load? Who willwash our robes? Who will cook ourdinners? Knowledge is dangerous. We can't have women or laborers knowing thebusiness of the Elect, can we?"

"What will occupy their hours of ease andpleasure?"

It was clear that the fat man enjoyed the sound of his ownvoice; it was sonorous and smooth. "For that? The commonrabble? Let the laborer drink his cheapbeer and wine and attend the vulgar plays. Let him sing songs and listen to the singers of songs. Let him attend the camel races. Dancing girls and feats of strength. Let these things occupy and distract theirminds.

"As long as they don't go peering behind the curtainsof the temple, or wonder where the dinars go from the treasury. Let them eat their fatty baked foods so theyfeel satisfied and happy. Thus it isone dinar to enter the library. A poorman is harmless as long as he cannot think. If he is a thinker or a dreamer, he is harmless so long as hecannot speak well. If he can speakwell, let him be surrounded by others who cannot think, so they will mock himor ignore him, so they will not wonder about their lot in life. Let the thinking man's words fall on deafears. And let his fellow laborers thinkhim a heretic, so that they will bring him before the priests, so that he canbe punished as an example to the rest."

Sabir wondered how the man could speak so freely in front ofhis servants. "So the fee is tokeep the commoners in their place?"

"The last thing the Sultan needs is an arrogantpopulation. Let the Elect learn thesecrets of science and husbandry. Letthe Elect learn the arts of Divination and the darker Arts. Let them learn the most powerful knowledgeof all: politics. Why should a commonhouse slave know anything, except to keep her master well fed and satisfied inall things?"

Really Long Virginia Woolf Sentence

2011-10-29T17:41:00.002-04:00

Here is a doozy of a sentence from To The Lighthouse, by Virginia Woolf. Smarter people have already written too many smart things for me to add anything useful, but this book is fantastic. Nothing happens. There's a whole section that describes the goings on in an empty house. The maid is sent to open the place back up, and here's a sentence (a single sentence) describing her singing some old song to herself as she works alone in the long-empty house:

"Rubbing the glass of the long looking-glass and leering sideways at her swinging figure a sound issued from her lips—something that had been gay twenty years before on the stage perhaps, had been hummed and danced to, but now, coming from the toothless, bonneted, care-taking woman, was robbed of meaning, was like the voice of witlessness, humour, persistency itself, trodden down but springing up again, so that as she lurched, dusting, wiping, she seemed to say how it was one long sorrow and trouble, how it was getting up and going to bed again, and bringing things out and putting them away again."

If you haven't read this book, read it.

an angry, bipolar golfer

2011-10-19T03:52:00.000-04:00

As much as a few on the right are loath to admit, we live in a society. We are not merely a collection of self-serving individuals.

As much as a few on the left are loath to admit, our society is made up of a collection of self-serving individuals.

I believe there is a sweet spot in the middle, where self-determination meets social responsibility. This sweet spot is lost in partisan politics. We are like an angry, bipolar golfer trying to drive a golf ball 300 yards with a warped baseball bat.

A Meandering Occupy Wall Street Rant (with footnotes)

2011-10-14T20:48:00.001-04:00

Here in America, "the greatest, best country God has ever given man on the face of the earth"(1), we are told a story that if we work hard, play by the rules, and save our money, we can be or do anything we want. This story is both true and false at the same time. Our country has more opportunity than many countries, but that isn't saying much.(2) There are examples of people "movin' on up to that deluxe apartment in the sky", but these are isolated rags to riches stories that only help perpetuate the American Dream lie. It is kind of like how lottery payouts hide the fact that the lottery is a tax on the poor and those who do not understand statistics.

The American Dream story is useful. This misguided aspiration keeps the middle class voting against their own interests and supporting the same rich assholes who are screwing them over. This American Dream is also a convenient carrot to dangle in front of the cubicle donkeys. Work harder donkeys!

We can't expect life to be fair; it isn't going to be fair, and it has never been fair.(3) So can we at least stop ignoring the fact that we have an aristocracy? Can we admit that we have a class system? Can we acknowlede that we have a caste system that for some people is as rigid as the one in India?

On Labor Day this year, President Obama said, "if you work hard and play by the rules, you will get a fair shake and get a fair shot." That is bullshit. President Obama is one of those rare cases of rags to riches. The exception does not change the rule. He did work hard, but he was also lucky, and now he is completely corrupt (just like Bush/Clinton/Bush/Reagan/Carter/Ford/Nixon/Johnson/Kennedy).

Let's examine this steaming pile of bullshit: work hard and play by the rules: the existence of "rules" suggests the existence of a game. Fairness exists only in controlled environments, like professional and college sports. Here there are experienced, highly trained referees with the authority to penalize rule breakers. There are clearly marked boundaries, time limits, and strict rules of conduct. Everything happens out in the open. The seats are filled with thousands of witnesses; nobody gets away with anything. Every move on the field is recorded in high definition. Slow motion replay exposes any transgression, and if something isn't fair, the crowd howls with righteous indignation. Sporting events are the arenas where fairness is demanded, all for the sake of the pointless movement of spheroids back and forth across ridiculously well manicured lawns.

And even in these strict environments, there are controversial calls, non-calls, and a few players who cheat a little. Even in these conditions, fans of one team or another might leave the stadium feeling cheated.

The same is true for board games: checkers and chess leave very few opportunities to cheat. The same cannot be said for Monopoly. In Monopoly, there's always a banker, and bankers are known to cheat. Praise be the Parker Brothers, Peace be Upon Them.

Those in power are there not because of a level playing field. No. Their starting block was moved up a few feet before the start of the race. They get to fight with iron plates sewn into their boxing gloves. Their uncle is the umpire; they get the strikes called in their favor.

Who gets to grow up with the best connections? Who is going to go to the very best school? Who is born into "old money"? Who gets to buy frozen concentrated orange-juice futures contracts, having inside information on orange crop forecasts? Not you and I.

Who is born into a housing project or Appalachian sadness town, and who spends their childhood in the Hamptons, learning to sail on a private lake, enrolled in prep schools and vacationing in Europe and the Caribbean?

It all depends on what loins you spring from. Are you born into the aristocracy, or are you just some plebeian?

Some of this inequality is just a fact of life, and people put up with it. But when it gets out of hand, when the rich and powerful get even more greedy (as unbelievable as it seems, sometimes one yacht is just not enough), the peasants get riled up.

Have I painted an unfair picture of our beloved Corporate Overlords? Is my rant an unfair depiction of the upper class? Probably.(4) There's that unfairness again. Whenever anyone speaks up against the rich, it is class warfare. How unfair. Maybe it is unfair, but unfairness works both ways. If the rich get to screw everybody else over, why can't the unwashed masses rise up occasionally and hang a few of them up by their guts?(5) These rich bastards are stealing from the middle class, aided by their crooked friends in the government, and they are getting away with it. We will throw a guy in jail for shoplifting, but guys in silk ties who conspire to steal millions, or billions from the plebeians don't get thrown into jail, they get high-paying government jobs regulating banks or they get to run the Federal Reserve.

But the frothy mix of business and government that is the byproduct of fascism is an inscestuous revolving door orgy of bribery, backroom deals, bribery, banks bailouts, election fraud, bribery, credit default swaps, high frequency trading, bribery, CDOs, illegal wars, bibery, bribery, bribery, money laundering, gerrymandering, war profiteering, prison for profit schemes, cronyism, nepotism, cats and dogs living together and most outrageous of all: bribery. GovernCorp is a cheater's paradise.

Oh, the governmentcorporationrevolvingdoorfascistcheddermelt isn't all bad. They give us shiny gadgets. The transform us from "citizens" to "consumers". They give us brand identification. They turn our states into sales regions. They fill us with corn mash and cheap beer. They fill our cars with overpriced gas so we can run around getting and spending, buying their stuff with personalized credit cards and then paying them off with part time paper-hat-name-tag jobs. What would we do without this ceaceless activity? McRibs and Swiffers. They fatten us up with genetically modified food and pump us up with antidepressants and penis pills. They give us drugs for imaginary diseases. They show us movies in three dimensions. They fill our heads with jingles and chatchy tunes. They give us fancy phones and then they listen in, making sure we don't get into trouble. They are our belevolent masters. How can we not love them, and their mascots? Oh Logos! Bring us more shiny toys! Give us bigger trucks and wider screens! Give us games and light beer! Host spectacles of sport. Give us singing and dancing competitions! Huzzah! Huzzah!

Of course there is going to be cronyism and corruption, but can we at least pretend there is some rule of law? Can't we at least throw some of these well-heeled crooks in jail and pretend somebody is watching out for the little guy? Capitalism without regulation is like a football game without referees: anarchy. Too much regulation is like a game where they throw a flag every play: no fun. There has to be a middle ground where the rich assholes get to be assholes, bend the rules a little, and get filthy rich, but if they step over a certain line, they get fined, or thrown in jail, or at least called out as the fucking pricks that they are.

So I support the Occupy Wall Street movement,(6) pointless and hopeless as it is. I support them even though some of them are dirty hippies. Some of them AREN'T dirty hippies, but the normal(?) people don't get on camera, because the media are a bunch of propaganda-spewing prostitutes for their corporate masters, so guess what? The networks show the protesters in the most negative light, and since all of the small-minded, xenophobic network-television watching plebes hate dirty, bongo-playing hippies, guess who they show on the TV? They put the most spaced-out pothead they can find in front of the camera and he spouts a bunch of pointless stoner bullshit, and they say, "See? They're just a bunch of dirty hippies." Back in the television studio, the vapid plastic spokesholes laugh and dismiss the entire movement. Meanwhile, the articulate protesters who might have a clear message are pepper-sprayed by some thug with a badge for standing on the sidewalk.

What is the alternative to protesting? Apathy? Cast votes into the void of rigged Diebold voting machines?(7) Even if the elections weren't completely fixed, we only get to choose from two worthless, totally corrupt parties that serve the same herd of soulless corporate pigs. And the only candidates we get to choose from are the ones that are hand-picked by our Corporate Overlords, because you can't get the advertisement and funding needed to get elected without Corporate Cash, because our system is completely, utterly, hopelessly broken. FUBAR.

So what is the point? Will these protests do any good? Of course not. Look at the American and French revolutions. They rebelled against asshole upper-class tyrants who were abusing their power. What do we have now? A bunch of asshole upper-class tyrants who are abusing their power. So work hard plebeians, play by the rules, and save your money.

Protest this: This country is being run by a ruthless band of criminals, and there's nothing we can do about it.

In conclusion, we're fucked.

Have a nice weekend.
-----------------------------------------------
1. Sean Hannity, Hannity's America (6 June 2008)

2. Being one of the lesser-fucked-up countries on this planet is nothing to brag about. That's like saying the winner of the 100 yard dash at the Special Olympics is really fast. It just isn't as impressive as it sounds.

3. It isn't particularly unfair either, it is what it is. It has more to do with chance than anything else, but that's a whole nuther essay altogether.

4. Am I asking myself questions,and then answering them? Yes. Is this annoying? Yes. Donald Rumsfeld does this, and he's a horrible douchebag.

5. Hanging rich people by their guts is a figure of speech. They should get a fair trial, be found guilty, and THEN hanged by their guts, in accordance with the law, whatever.

6. Actually, other than typing this rant, I guess I DON'T support them, because that would involve actually DOING something. I'm just a dipshit with a keyboard claiming I support them. Kind of like people who have a "support the troops" sticker on their vehicle, but they don't do anything else. But it SOUNDS good to say I support the protesters, so I'm gonna leave that in and hope nobody reads this footnote.

7. Google it. Really.

A Cheap Buzz

2011-10-02T07:31:00.003-04:00

When you stop drinking after years of drinking, sobriety becomes its own type of madness. A long period of Clarity of mind is in itself a strange high, and it can be fun, as long as you can fold it in on itself. Thinking too much is a cheap buzz.

A Shabby Trailer By The Side Of The Road

2011-10-02T07:30:00.001-04:00

Your religion is like a house of mirrors. You are born into it, as a child you are told it is real, and you believe in it. But once you get out of it, you see it is nothing more than a shabby trailer run by carnival workers. Even if you wanted to, you can't just decide to go back and live again in illusion, because you'll know it's fake.

He slept peacefully, with an untroubled heart.

2011-09-26T16:30:00.002-04:00

There was once a very corrupt official. I know that sounds fantastic, but it is true. There was once a corrupt official. He took bribes at every opportunity, without the slightest feeling of shame or guilt. All day long influential men would come in and out of his offices, getting promises for votes, and dropping off drafts of legislation that would be put forth and enacted without much change to the wording.

Everyone was happy with this arrangement. The government men were happy. The lawyers and CEOs and weapons manufacturers were happy. Almost everyone was happy, except the poor people. The poor people and the working people were not happy. But that was no concern to the official, who slept in a large bed with his fashionable wife.

unique novel idea!

2011-09-19T06:08:00.001-04:00

I find it amazing that no novel has every been written about an orphan or orphans. I think making an orphan the lead character would work so well. I wonder why no one else has ever, in the history of novels, ever thought of that. ;)

Story sample: "The Scouting Party"

2011-09-04T06:55:00.001-04:00

The Scouting Party

View more documents from danmanning

From my book, Firewood for Cannibals (and other stories)

free audio stories

2011-09-03T19:37:00.003-04:00

Do you like stories? Sure, we all do. I would like to recommend a podcast from ClarksWorld Magazine. If you don't listen on your iPod, you can listen right from the web page. If you DO listen on your iPod, you should listen to it at double speed, because the narrator Kate Baker reads kinda slow. Some of the stories I don't like so much, but their last two picks are pretty good:

"Pack" by Robert Reed, and "The Fish of Lijiang" by Chen Qiufan

Anywhoo, Happy Labor Day and all that jazz.

(read my books)

What I'm Reading

2011-08-29T16:50:00.001-04:00

I'm reading The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie (1988). He packs a lot into every enjoyable paragraph. So far it is very entertaining. I'm also reading, as a palate cleanser between chapters, a collection of short stories by Ray Bradbury titled A Medicine for Melancholy (1959). So far my favorite is the story "The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit", about six poor guys who save up to buy a white suit so they can take turns walking around like big shots.

My manuscript is coming along nicely. Lots of characters and sub-plots and other shenanigans.

Dante's Inferno, Corporate Edition

2011-08-24T20:55:00.002-04:00

I'm reading THE INFERNO (Dante Alighieri), which is Dante's (the Pilgrim Dante, not the Poet) tour of the nine circles of hell, lead by the poet Virgil. Reading it now, with all the B.S. going on in our country, I can imagine some of the well-healed criminals from today spending eternity in some of these places. The book describes sins and the punishment for those sins:

gluttony (the obesity epidemic)
usury (Wall Street/Banks)
avarice/greed (Wall Street, Corporate Tax Evaders, Congress)
thieves (Wall Street, Congress, War Profiteers)
hypocrites (Democrats, Republicans, Politicians, the Media and probably most people, myself included)
fraudulent counselors (Wall Street, the ratings agencies, Fox News/MSNBC/Network News/Pharma Commercials)
sowers of scandal and schism (Fox News, MSNBC, network news in general, the compromised media)
Falsifiers (Congress, Wall Street, Politicians) etc.

I'm kind of cynical these days, and alas, all of the characters ruining our country will be able to avoid these exquisite tortures because there is no hell, but if there was, I'd love to see some of these suits buried upside-down in filth, with their feet set on fire, but that's probably not going to happen.

The Plan: An Idea for a Science Fiction Story?

2011-08-02T22:47:00.002-04:00

I have an idea for a Science Fiction story. It's pretty far-fetched and out-there, and it goes something like this:

First, a shadowy group of Oligarchs takes over the government by installing their own employees in all the halls of power. Congress, the Fed, the White House, the Pentagon, everywhere. The regulatory agencies are all managed by Corporate shills, who gut and de-claw those angencies. Public Schools and Social Programs are almost completely de-funded. This is all part of:

THE PLAN!

Unemployment is purposely driving up. Wages stagnate. All the jobs are moved to other countries until the Fat American realizes that he better be ready to work for peanuts. The Oligarchs want to make people so desperate for jobs, they'll work as cheaply as they do in India and China and all the other shit-holes in the world. But first, they have to make the United States as shitty as those other countries.

But how do they keep the people pacified in the meantime? Easy. They bribe them with shiny gadgets, because humans have already devolved into mouth-breathing primates who are distracted by anything shiny, boobies, and cheap beer. Bread and Circuses are delivered via huge screens. Men fight in cages. Cameras are put into dysfunctional families for entertainment. The people are given, I don't know, fancy communication devices of some sort. The Oligarchs jack everyone into a huge network of computers, where they observe everything the people are thinking. And, I know this sounds crazy, the people actually supply all the information themselves! They tell the security services, who monitor everything, who they associate with, where they go, what they do, their primitive political ideas (mostly regurgitated talking points from the propaganda screens) Meanwhile, some sort of large screen is installed in every household, and the Oligarchs brainwash everyone into buying more and more things they can't afford, so they go into debt, making them basically indentured servants. But the people don't KNOW they're practically slaves, because they have some song, and at the very end, it goes "LAND OF THE FREE! AND THE HOME OF THE BRAVE!" So the slaves think they are free (because it's in the song)! It's far-fetched I know, but stick with me here.

So in order to keep everybody in line, they have these perpetual wars. And the defense contractors promise the high-ranking generals all sorts of lucrative jobs when they get out, so the generals know they got a good thing waiting for them, as long as they tell the President (Who is also a lobbyists, no matter who wins—see below) that they have to keep these wars going on forever! I know that was done in the book 1984, but it works so well, I might as well re-hash it huh? And in the name of Security, the Secret Police X-Ray everybody and sometimes they stick their fingers up Grandma's butt before they let her travel. The Secret Police, who only exist to protect the merchant class, go around strung out on Steroids and electrocute people for any infraction, because it's fun.

And the people will be dumbed-down in shitty schools that don't teach anything except standardized tests, which the Oligarchs put in place to occupy the time in the schools so no one learns oh, I don't know, civics, political theory, how their government is supposed to work, how compound interest works or any other useful thing. And the colleges just turn everybody into sweaty alcoholics with STDs who are tens of thousands of dollars in debt, making them slightly skilled indentured servants right out of college! Brilliant!

So the people, who have no Social Security, Medicare, none of that stuff, are basically starving to death, but the Oligarchs fatten them up on some kind of corn mash, some sort of syrup that the liver can't actually process, and it makes everybody all fat and stupid, so people sit at their screens all day giving information to the Security Services, who can do almost anything in the name of SECURITY because of the constant war with invisible enemies.

Pretty crazy idea for a SF story huh?

So although there are two parties (all of them employed directly by the Oligarchs), both parties put on this show like they hate each other, but really they are all employees of the same groups of Oligarchs, so the people choose one side or the other to cheer for, and they HATE the people who identify with the other side. They use wedge issues and scapegoats and religious bullshit to keep both sides hating each other. Both sides use all kind of slick programming to make the people think that every problem facing the country is some kind of false dichotomy, where there can only be one right answer, out of a total number of two possible answers, both supplied by the two parties, who are really just working together to keep the people divided into two groups, to keep them hating each other instead of paying attention to the politicians who are fattening them up and driving them to more desperation, in order to finally be able to:

Open work houses! Once the people are so desperate for jobs, with no security net whatsoever, every morning every "able bodied" man and woman will crowd outside the gates of any factory that is built. With no unions and no workers rights, products will be manufactured for next to nothing. Work conditions be damned, people haven't worked for so long, they'll bust ass all day for a dollar and hour. Perfect! They can use the slightly skilled college grads to manage the mouth-breathing Eloi, who will manufacture things (finally) in order to purchase cheap beer and watch horrible movies on their One Day Off, which they will spend in Government Churches, where they will be taught Obedience and The Power of The Invisible Hand.

Meh, this is too far-fetched for a story.

What I'm reading, etc.

2011-07-25T21:45:00.005-04:00

I'm reading I Am A Strange Loop by Douglas Hofstadter. It is about the "I" we all live(?) with in our heads (or the mirage of an "I" that exists inside our skulls). It is about more than that, but I'm only halfway through, so I don't know exactly where it is heading just yet. But it is clearly and simply written, with analogies and metaphors to help things along, and it is a very enjoyable read.

I'm still plotting out my Arabian Nights inspired book; things are coming together nicely, plot-wise. I'm about to create a golem of sorts: although golems are from Jewish folklore, my book takes place on another planet, so rules don't count.

Today was also about fixing the van. I have lived 44 years without knowing what a MAF (Mass Air Flow) sensor is, but now I know. Replaced that, replaced a vacuum hose, and replaced fog light bulbs.

I also fixed a couple of 'puters for customers. Some printing stuff and some database file location stuff.

Thus: reading and turning wrenches. Fun fun.

Words I've noted to look up while reading Umberto Eco's Foucault's Pendulum. I'm on page 79:

2011-06-27T22:16:00.000-04:00

polyphony, diabolus in musica, tesseract, krupskaya, philology, egalitarian -pg 46:,the Trial of the Templars, Ophiulco, navigli, Etruscan(48), demiurge(49), Finis Austriae(51), cabalistic(ally)(53), paralogism (56), ontological (56), and "Godel's Theorem.

Quote: "There are four kinds of people in this world: cretins, fools, morons, and lunatics."(54)

Miracles Happen Every Day

2011-06-20T09:51:00.002-04:00

I have one of those refrigerators with a water dispenser on the door. When I am thirsty, I can take a clean glass out of the cupboard and put it under the little spout in the water dispenser and cold filtered water comes out. I can have ice and water and I can drink the whole thing or have another one or only half until the fillings in my teeth hurt from the cold. This miracle happens millions of times a day in developed countries and we are so used to this miracle, we don't even realize how lucky we are to live in this age.

To live in this age. To have conditioned air. Through the miracle of Wikipedia, I can tell you that air-conditioning as we know it wasn't invented until around 1902, and it became commonplace over the following two decades. U.S. Pat# 808897 was granted to the father of air conditioning, St. Willis Haviland Carrier in 1906 for an "Apparatus for Treating Air". It wasn't until 1928 that Carrier came out with a residential unit, and sales only took off after the depression and WWII. So no widespread air conditioning until around 1945. What hellish world did mankind live in before that? That means for tens of thousands of years, mankind suffered through intolerable heat. Can you imagine?

There are people living today (many of them in the hot parts of the world) who have never been in air conditioning. They have no running water. No Internet. They must poop in the streets.

A glass of cold water. Clear and cold in a clean glass. Transparent. Ice floating, cracking. It is a miracle. The odds of being born human in this century, in this age of creature comforts, to be lucky enough to be one of the haves, are very thin. It is much more likely that one is born unlucky, baking in the sun, wasting away, idle and angry. What is man's fate? Why do some get to drink ice-cold water any time they want while someone else is dying of thirst? How many millions go days without a decent meal while I can walk into a cool, clean grocery store and buy a cartful of food and load it into my air-conditioned car, serenaded by music while I navigate smooth streets with orderly traffic and take my load of food to my air-conditioned house and put that food in a refrigerated box that also dispenses cold water whenever I want it? Why do I get to do that while another family somewhere in the world lives in a landfill, sifting through garbage in order to survive?

Twenty Random Things I Saw On My Walk Today:

2011-06-18T15:07:00.002-04:00

1. a six foot tall totem pole made of propane tanks and saw parts

2. a yappy black dog in someone's backyard

3. a guy in a track suit (long sleeves and long pant legs) doing those arms-extended-little-circles exercises in his front yard It is sunny and 83 degrees today, so I have no idea what this guy was thinking.

4. a 3 foot tall pile of laundry on a sheet in someone's front lawn No one was around.

5. a guy putting stain on wooden shingles on the front of his house

6. a cop car pulling a jet-ski on a little trailer

7. a hammock

8. a yellow convertible in a front yard

9. two women gossiping in a driveway

10. a brown dog napping on a little sidwalk

11. a purple paddle-boat on its side

12. a lawn jockey (Caucasian)

13. three folding ladders on the wall inside a garage

14. an inflatable kiddy pool by the trailer park

15. a shirtless guy working on a jet-ski (which was on a trailer) by the trailer park

16. a five(?) year-old kid being handed off for weekend visitation (at the trailer park)

17. a dog (which was barking at me from inside a trailer at the trailer park) bust out a window while it was barking at me.

18. two mattresses that were probably surreptitiously thrown into a dumpster at a construction site

19. an ambulance in an auto junkyard

20. nine fake sunflowers

Irony:

2011-06-17T12:11:00.000-04:00

President Obama sites Public Law 107-40 for his authority to order military action in Libya. Public Law 107-40 was signed into law by President Bush 1 week after 9/11. Many of the people complaining about President Obama's abuse of power are the same shortsighted politicians who gave the President the authority to abuse the power in the first place.

Public Law 107-40 from 2001: http://www.gpo.gov/fdsys/pkg/PLAW-107publ40/html/PLAW-107publ40.htm

President Obama's letter from two days ago: http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2011/06/15/letter-president-war-powers-resolution

Writing Anything?

2011-06-04T07:03:00.004-04:00

Yes! I'm writing, but I'm mostly writing notes into a yellow pad, trying to collect some story arcs and ideas for my Sindbad-esque book. I have a few first-drafts of chapters, and lots of scribbles in my yellow pad.

And that's about it. Reading a lot of books.

The Kent District Library is purchasing The Cubicles of Madness for circulation. Hooray for that.

Robert Gupta and Joshua Roman

2011-05-29T08:41:00.000-04:00

Notes from bookmark used in Bible, 1001 Arabian Nights, and Conan

2011-05-12T13:22:00.000-04:00

-20 Shekels for a slave
-Exodus 22:25 – No Interest
-Leviticus 13:45 "Unclean!"
-nidodded
-withersoever
-Don Quixote, dinars
-Dickens, Master of serial narration and endless beginnings
-a talisman against ennui and despondency preface to 1001...
-14: what so woman willest...
-17: oh scanty of wit
-Clark Ashton Smith
-"evening is the time of thieves"
-"Oh commander of the faithful"

finished Pheonix

2011-05-04T07:07:00.000-04:00

Phoenix by Richard Cowper

View all my reviews

Notes from Crime and Punishment:

2011-04-24T13:24:00.002-04:00

Rabelais, encyclicals, leitmotif, fustian, chintz, titular "councilor", pg. 11-12: "compassion ... forbidden", pg. 182: "Now for the Kingdom of light...", pg. 254: "Lycurgus"pg. 286: "the servants say he 'read himself silly'", pg 314: "Freedom and power, but the main thing is power.", pg 338: Gogol?

reading: One Hundred Years of Solitude

2011-04-16T10:53:00.005-04:00

I've been reading A Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I can't do it justice in the way of praise.

Here are some of the notes I've jotted down about it. I keep a blank paper for a bookmark, and I jot stuff down as I read. This tiny list of quotes do not even begin to tell the magnificence of this novel, but these are simply a few random quotes.

Page 104: the explanation of Liberals and Conservatives:

"Since Aureliano at that time had very confused notions about the difference between Conservatives and Liberals, his father-in-law gave him some schematic lessons.

The Liberals, he said, were Freemasons, bad people, wanting to hang priests, to institute civil marriage and divorce, to recognize the rights of illegitimate children as equal to those of legitimate ones, and to cut the country up into a federal system that would take power away from the supreme authority. The Conservatives, on the other hand, who had received their power directly form God, proposed the establishment of public order and family morality. They were the defenders of the faith of Christ, of the principle of authority, and were not prepared to permit the country to be broken down into autonomous entities."

Page 179:

"And then he would sleep like a stone that was not concerned by the slightest indication of worry."

Page 185:

"The certainty that his day was assigned gave him a mysterious immunity, an immortality for a fixed period . . ."

Page 202:

“The parish priest began to show the signs of senility that would lead him to say years later that the devil had probably won his rebellion against God, and that he was the one who sat on the heavenly throne, without revealing his true identity in order to trap the unwary”

page 208:

"Cease, cows, life is short."

page 212:

Taken out of context, it won't mean much, but the pages leading up to this passage makes the passage itself reveal the most beautiful woman in the world (in the mind's eye). It is difficult to explain:

"... and then she uncovered her face and gave her thanks with a smile. That was all she did. Not only for the gentleman, but for all the men who had the unfortunate privilege of seeing her, that was an eternal instant."

page 214:

"It seemed as if some penetrating lucidity permitted her to see the reality of things beyond any formalism."

page 216:

" . . . the secret of a good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude."

page 220:

"The only candle that will make him come is always lighted."

words I wrote down while reading THE SECRET HISTORY

2011-04-13T17:06:00.004-04:00

Here are some words (and a sentence) I wrote down while reading The Secret History, by Dona Tartt:

Lycidas
The Phaedo
ebullient
celadon
Persephone
"Any action, in the fullness of time, sinks to nothing" (nahil sub sol novum)

words

2011-04-13T06:26:00.001-04:00

loafers, fortify, rimbaud, malthus,Knossos, Gregory of Tours, steelwort, P G Wodehouse

Unfocused Rambling for Friday

2011-04-08T11:13:00.001-04:00

"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves."
— St. Paul

I am getting old and cynical. I've seen too many things to believe in anything anymore. The endless days, sunrises and sunsets I've never seen, but the day between, sunny or cloudy, getting and spending, watching television and driving here and there.

This life, whatever it is, this biological spasm that is a human being, with thoughts and memories and ideas about "who" it is and what it is supposed to do is nothing. This machine made of meat, eating and breathing and sleeping ... what is it for? What is this creature, what is this result of biology? Why does it exist? I am simply a mammal on a planet hurtling through the void of space under a thin layer of atmosphere, guided and commanded by my stomach, to get along in a world full of funny monkeys who make funny monkey rules.

Speed Buggy and Grape Ape

Lonely dirt roads lie in monochrome between black silhouettes of winter trees under slate gray skies. There wait silent afternoon rooms with shafts of sunlight illuminating motes of dust, the dry aging grandparent, waiting for a phone that will not ring, waiting for a visitor who will never arrive. There stands the homeless man in the future, thinking back on comforts lost, shivering on an autumn evening sidewalk. A television babbles names and events I no longer recognize. The news seems to have happened a thousand times before. There are men and women much younger than I in places of power doing cruel funny monkey things. They are mouthing slogans and writing funny laws. They doing foolish things, they are demonizing their brothers and sisters, as if all of the history books in the world have been ignored, cast aside, and held in contempt. As if their Christ wasn't watching from above. How will we treat the poor? Will we throw them to the wolves? Will we make their poverty a crime?

Are the troubles of this world any different than they have ever been? Are the solutions so unique that we can't figure them out? For every hungry child, somewhere in a bank vault, or on the hard drives of a bank computer is a hundred thousand dollars. For every homeless child there is a million pounds of gold in an underground vault.

What sad song could sooth this digitized heart? What synapse could ease this addled mind? What angelic spirit will descend on these well-heeled monkeys with their fascist madness and remind them that whatsoever you do to the least of your brothers and camels and needles and whatnot? Can the Beatitudes be made into a vaccine against heartless greed and wholesale corruption?

Gomer, Genie, and Dr. Smith.

We are head down at our keyboards, adding to the Internet hive-mind while a child goes hungry. Our comments are witty avatars of the deeper meaning of ourselves. Our neighbors are strangers and our countrymen are enemies. We bomb and kill and scheme while in Africa, our little brothers and sisters are starving and freaking out with guns and machetes, yet we do nothing, because although the world has gotten very small, we cannot hear their cries over the sound of our big screen televisions and our shiny new phones.

But we can hear that sweet crude, the ghosts of dinosaurs and ancient trees crying out to us to save it from its underground tomb, to free it so that it can breath itself through our cars and jets and boats into the atmosphere, so that someday it can burn the atmosphere away, and all the monkeys will fry in the sun and freeze in the winter when the fossil exhale has burned away the insulation.

Lawrence Welk and Jerry Mathers.

I lost the thing in my brain that allows things to be filed in the credulous column. My credulous column is gone. All of our heroes are frauds. Anyone who would change this system is swallowed up, compromised, fed talking points and their lofty ideas are reasoned down by the system. The system in place transcends leaders and revolutionaries. A corporation is a person, but it cannot go to jail. It has no sympathy for the weak. It is the perfect sociopath. A government is a living entity with no soul, but a survival instinct as real as that of a viper. If God is real he has forsaken us. He has turned his head and moved on to a different planet. We are on our own, forgotten. No one is driving the bus.

John Wayne and Paul Lynde.

REBECCA BLACK'S "FRIDAY" AS AN EXAMINATION OF THE EXISTENTIAL YOKE OF TIME ON MODERN MAN.

2011-04-03T22:03:00.005-04:00

by

Dan Manning

In this essay, I will demonstrate the deeper meaning of the lyrics of Rebecca Black's widely panned "Friday." Much has been said about this young woman's debut single, much of it negative. I propose that this is not a shallow, poorly produced bubble-gum pop tune, but a deep analysis of man's existential conundrum, addressing the relentless passing of time, cultural pressures on modern man, and the nihilistic existence that is modern life.

Let us examine the first line of the song:

7am, waking up in the morning

Here Miss Black points out the inexorable grind of modern life. Why does she have to wake up so early? What demands causes one to be awake so early in the morning, when you should sleep late? Throughout the world, mankind is on an endless, relentless treadmill of activity and toil. Everyone must get up in the morning and be a "useful" part of society. Rest and idleness is frowned upon. School for children, work for adults. Everyone is expected to be up in the morning. Only the idle rich and the unemployed get to sleep in; both groups have nothing to offer society, so they are cast off. So Miss Black must get up in the morning, although, as everyone knows, it is better to sleep late, as the Beastie Boys explained in "Mark On The Bus" on their 1992 album Check Your Head:

"...you should sleep late man, it's much easier on your constitution..."

But Miss Black cannot sleep late, and the stress of social pressures is already pressing in, as she states in the very next line:

Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs

Why does she "gotta" go downstairs? Through her offhand, almost throw-away line, she reveals much. She does not want to go downstairs and face another day, but she must, and not only must she "go downstairs," she has to "be fresh" while she does it. What demand is there that she be fresh? For whom must she be fresh? She must be fresh for a society that demands not only freshness, but also a "positive attitude". Despite all the decay around us, declining standards of living, greed and corruption in our social institutions, high unemployment, and a bleak future for young people, she is still expected to be "fresh". No one is allowed to look sad or be grumpy. Everyone must be "upbeat." Read Brave New World for a deeper examination of this social norm.

The next line is very revealing:

Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal

Like an animal to the trough, she must scoop her bowl of chemicals into her face. There is no time for a real breakfast. There is no time to interact with her family, which is not mentioned in the song at all. Where are her parents? They too are on the treadmill of getting and spending, too busy to sit with their daughter even for a few minutes to talk. Perhaps they will text each other during the day. Miss Black must be educated so that someday she too can ignore her offspring. "Gotta have my bowl" could also be a subliminal reference to drug use. Does she need to have a "bowl" of marijuana to help her cope with the stresses of modern life? We may never know. Either way, her breakfast is brief, and here we come to the crux of the song, the most damning lyrics of all:

Seein’ everything, the time is goin’
Tickin’ on and on, everybody’s rushin’

The crushing drumbeat of time is relentless. Here Rebecca Black says a great deal about society in just a few concise words. Everybody is rushing. Everyone today is in a hurry to be somewhere, to do something, to communicate some idea. We expect instant gratification, we expect instant communications, and we have no patience for anything that might slow us down. Her family is yoked with the burden of the clock, constantly rushing them to the next thing, to the next meeting, to the next class, to the next job interview, to the next stoplight. Look how we drive: on the freeway we race to be in the front of a pack, and if we get in front of that pack, we accelerate to run down the next pack of cars, as though there is some "front" of everything. Miss Black's family, in this song anyway, is simply described as "everybody." Our families seem like "everybody" sometimes, but as soon as Miss Black leaves the house, she joins the throng, the family of mankind, to rush to her next appointment:

Gotta get down to the bus stop
Gotta catch my bus, I see my friends (My friends)

I had to consult the video to understand what happens in these two lines. Miss Black reluctantly goes to the bus stop, where the institutional system will swallow her up. Had she taken her place on the bus, her individualism would have immediately been diminished as she is forced to conform to rules and regulations, schedules and seating charts. It is only the arrival of her friends in a convertible that saves her from having to enter the dark maw of the bus's interior, where in the dim light she would be seated next to the random bits of humanity that makes up a student body. School is an artificial social situation, where individuals are thrown together in ways that they would normally never accept.

But the arrival of her smaller circle of friends, with a means of transportation to the school, relieves her of this burden, and she joins them, but not before making a serious decision: Which seat should she take?

Kickin’ in the front seat
Sittin’ in the back seat
Gotta make my mind up
Which seat can I take?

This is a puzzling stanza, because really, what difference does it make? Just get in the car. At least you're not on the bus next to the runny-nosed kid with the Pokemon cards, right? But after further consideration, her conundrum seems important. Even within her small circle of friends, there is a pecking order of some sort. We all favor some friends over others. Should she sit next to the boy in the back, possibly leading to some sort of romantic encounter? Her question, in context of the video, seems more baffling because there are only two bucket seats in the front, and the front passenger seat is already occupied. Does the girl in the front seat have such low self-esteem that she would let someone kick her out and make her sit in the back? I will defer such arguments, and take the lyrics without the context of the video. Her choice, or her need to think about the choice of what seat to take also speaks to the love affair American culture has with cars. To ride in the front is "cooler" by far than riding in the back, and riding "bitch" (in the middle seat) is no fun at all. So her choice is relevant in today's society. But whatever choice she makes, she'd better make it quick, or she will be late for school.

It’s Friday, Friday
Gotta get down on Friday
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend
Friday, Friday
Gettin’ down on Friday
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend

This stanza is the heart of the song, and it speaks to the grind that is the other four days of the workweek. It speaks to the eternal alternation of labor and rest that is our American system. But how does one even know it is "Friday"? The arbitrary naming of the days of the week, the division of years into months, and months into weeks, and weeks into days is completely artificial. How does one "know" the name of the day? All of society must agree to these arbitrary conventions. We are trapped by an artificial division of time, a schedule that everyone must follow. And how does the "weekend" come about? It was only through the labor movement in the 1920s that we enjoy our weekends, and it wasn't recognized nationwide until 1940. But why is everybody "lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend?" Was this not already covered by Loverboy in their 1981 treatise, "Working for The Weekend" off of their smash hit album Get Lucky?

The lyrics that follow are more puzzling:

Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah)
Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah)
Fun, fun, fun, fun
Lookin’ forward to the weekend

The ancient craving for the bacchanal is no less prevalent today than when it was prohibited by the Roman Senate in 186 BC. Miss Black expresses man's craving for release from the stresses and banality of modern life, a need to be exalted, to be carefree and surrounded by trusted companions and accepted by one's peers in a spirit of friendship and celebration. Here she expresses the same sentiment found in countless country and western songs. The repetition of the word "fun" has been mocked by countless Internet kibitzers, but is it not an expression of man's universal search for happiness, even a moment's respite from the stresses of survival and acceptance in a world increasingly uncertain, where all of our pillars of civilization look less stalwart than they were in the past, and where strife and war seems on the verge of tearing civilization itself apart? Can Miss Black be blamed for her cries of adulation for the bacchanal?

Less than thirteen hours later, Miss Black's dream is made reality. The school day is completely skipped in her narrative, and she is with her friends:

7:45, we’re drivin’ on the highway
Cruisin’ so fast, I want time to fly
Fun, fun, think about fun
You know what it is
I got this, you got this
My friend is by my right
I got this, you got this
Now you know it

Again the nod to America's car culture. We identify with cars. The linear movement through space over time gives us a sense of power and clear purpose. She reaffirms her confidence in herself ("I got this") and her confidence in her companions ("you got this"), but what is the "this" that they have control of? Is she expressing her confidence that she and her friend can make manifest the "fun" they are so intent on having? Does it not throw a question about the certainty of the fun they are going to have? Is there a risk that they won't have fun?

There is an apparent contradiction in the above stanza that must be addressed: Why would she want time to fly? If she is having fun, if her abandon is complete, if she is enjoying mindless frivolities with her close circle of friends, one of which is seated at her right hand, as the Son of God is seated at the right hand of the biblical God, then why would she want time to pass even more quickly? The answer is clear. She speaks to the fact that even in our celebrations, we are thinking about the next thing, the next appointment. We are always mindful of time. There was a time before mankind divided the day into hours. There was a time before clocks, when men lived in harmony with nature. Miss Black points out that we are all slaves to time, even in our moments of abandon and joy.

Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday
Today i-is Friday, Friday (Partyin’)
We-we-we so excited
We so excited
We gonna have a ball today

Tomorrow is Saturday
And Sunday comes after...wards
I don’t want this weekend to end

Again Miss Black examines even more deeply the trap that is arbitrarily divided time. She cannot escape the measured movement of time. The stresses of Thursday are still in the back of our minds; the failures and triumphs follow us into the weekend. The loose ends of the workweek bedevil us, even as we seek joy in our abandon. Why are the revelers so excited? Because their time of celebration is fleeting. The weekdays have encroached so close upon Friday, and there are only two days left before the workweek starts again. Monday lurks like a specter on all of their frivolity and joy. Her determination to "have a ball" today underscores just how little time she has. Everyone must schedule their fun around the immovable Monday that follows all weekend activities. The weekend can be unpredictable; the weekend is an open canvas of unknown possibility. The work week is so predictable, so soul-crushing in its predictability, one has to rush, one has to hurry to get as much fun as possible packed into three days (or two, if you have to go to church!) that we run about, we scurry about hurly-burley, trying as we might to capture as much unpredictable fun as we can, but there is never enough time! How succinctly Miss Black has put it! From the mouth of children, there is Wisdom! The above stanza has been universally mocked. Why does she rattle off the days of the week? It is so obvious! But is it? How often do we consider how we are all cruelly bound to the Wheel of Time? When do we examine the short span of time we have here on this earth? She expresses her wish that the weekend would never end. Have we not all thought that at one time or another? Have we not all looked on Monday as a kind of dread?

Despite the deep, meaningful lyrics, this is a horrible, horrible song. I watched as much of the video as I could stand to get an idea of what everyone was complaining about, and indeed, there is much to complain about. But even in this atrocity that is the video "Friday," there is much that can be learned.

The world's #3 event

2011-03-24T20:52:00.001-04:00

On Feb. 13, this was the very first thought that popped into my head when I woke up: "The world's #3 event was #19 by the time it was over." That was a weird dream ending also.

"I feel like an enraged fireman approaching a city near a garage."

2011-03-24T20:46:00.001-04:00

"I feel like an enraged fireman approaching a city near a garage."

This was the last sentence of the last dream I had this morning, and the first thing that was in my head when I woke up. Not sure what was going on, but it must have been a weird dream.

reading reading

2011-03-23T10:50:00.001-04:00

reading Upton Sincair's The Jungle. Finished reading Cannary Row last night. Trying to read 50 novels this year.

Books to McPherson

2011-03-20T08:09:00.001-04:00

Sent a copy each of my books to the bookstore in McPherson. Hope somebody buys them. www.danmanning.com

started A Farewell To Arms

2011-03-19T06:38:00.000-04:00

A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway

View all my reviews

have books, will market

2011-03-15T11:23:00.002-04:00

Sent emails to book bloggers; sent a copy of Cubicles of Madness to the Bookshelves of Doom book reviewer, hopefully I can get some mention.

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater

2011-03-15T07:44:00.001-04:00

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater by Kurt Vonnegut

This was first published in 1965, but parts of it could have been written yesterday:

pg 8:

"Small experiments with worthless papers convinced him that such papers could be sold effortlessly. While he continued to bribe persons in government to hand over treasuries and national resources, his first enthusiasm became the peddling of watered stock"

and on the very next page, he describes what is going on with the unions situation today:

"Thus did a handful of rapacious citizens come to control all that was worth controlling in America. Thus was the savage and stupid and entirely inappropriate and unnecessary and humorless American class system created. Honest, industrious, peaceful citizens were classed as bloodsuckers, if they asked to be paid a living wage."

View all my reviews

reading fail

2011-03-14T20:17:00.002-04:00

Tried to read The Silmarillion. Could not do it. It reads like a slightly faker version of the Bible. I understand it is a lot of backstory for LOTR, but I just couldn't power through it. Going to read God Bless you, Mr. Rosewater instead.

War and Peace

2011-03-10T09:31:00.002-05:00

Finished reading War and Peace this morning at 7:01 AM. There's been too much already said about this book for me to add anything worthwhile, but I completely enjoyed reading it, and would recommend it to anyone. Don't be daunted by the book's length. I couldn't wait to pick it up again between readings. The epilogue is a little dense, but even that difficult part is worthwhile.

prizes out!

2011-03-08T20:46:00.002-05:00

Sent out the prizes today. Thanks for playing. I'm working on my next two books right now, and when I get one out, another giveaway!

Contest Winners!

2011-03-04T21:26:00.002-05:00

Congrats to Christy and Jen, winners of my first two book giveaways. There will be another contest on Monday, March 14. You can play by guessing a number between 1 and 100 to win Brain Giblets. On Wednesday March 16, we'll have the same contest to win my latest novel, The Cubicles of Madness.

Contest happens on my Facebook page.

website changes

2011-03-04T21:23:00.003-05:00

changed my website a little, making it cleaner and putting description pages for each of my books. www.danmanning.com.

Bought speakers for my computer today. Had to take the first purchase back because they didn't work, but swapped them for the same speakers, and they work fine. Not great speakers(Logitech LS21), but I don't hear so well, so what's the difference?

I won a contest!

2011-02-22T21:12:00.002-05:00

http://christythewriter.com had a writing contest, and I won!. I'm very honored to have won. Follow the link to read my entry. Woot Woot

Super Weird Dream Ending

2011-02-15T06:08:00.002-05:00

This is the very first thought that popped into my head when I woke up:

"The world's #3 event was #19 by the time it was over."

Could someone please get back to me and explain this?

Wisdom from the Antiques Road Show

2011-02-08T12:42:00.003-05:00

So I'm watching Antiques Road show, (I'm old), and one of the appraisers, David Lackey, was talking about some pottery, and he said the following:

"Now these have an old label on the bottom. Sometimes old labels are right, sometimes they're wrong, but you still look at them and consider what they say."

That applies to people too.

Writing Practice

2011-01-09T20:00:00.000-05:00

"Report!"

"They had potential, but it was their need for control that eventually destroyed them. The cameras, the number of cameras doubled every year, until there was nowhere to go that wasn't under constant surveillance. At least in the developed countries it appeared that every spot was under surveillance. But there was a problem.

"There weren't enough people to watch all of the cameras. People in faux security uniforms got bored watching the same street corners day after day, year after year. Usually nothing happened and when something did happen, it was usually sad and typical.

"So they wrote software to watch what happened on the cameras. Face recognition software, RFID chips, optical character recognition (for vehicle license tags), and advanced programs to read body language, cultural trends and so on. Particle analyzers sniffed the air for drugs and explosives.

"They set all of these things in motion, and the computers watched the people. The computers analyzed the actions of the people. Trend analysis software described arcs in social behavior and interaction. The computers in different 'security zones' compared trends and habits of the people. They cross-referenced phone calls and names on utility bills. They monitored book sales and library activity.

"Solar powered drone aircraft, capable of staying aloft almost indefinitely with night vision cameras for darkness, and high resolution cameras for daylight, monitored all activity, and beamed the video back to banks of computers buried deep under mountain ranges and in salt mines and bunkers in deserts.

"Soon there was no activity that was not recorded. Homes equipped with motion detecting televisions and camera-equipped games soon were completely open to the computer network that recorded all human activity.

"The human populations themselves 'updated their statuses' on social networks, and through their phones (which also recorded everything with built-in cameras). The phones themselves were handy tracking devices, telling the security computer networks all that it needed to know. The people made video of themselves doing almost everything. The civilians reported their activities so often, it made watching them almost effortless.

"Lists of threats and potentials threats, based on the movements of people and the tone of their status updates, were delineated and cross-referenced. Email messages were combed for any language that might reveal disloyal thoughts. A drone might catch a glimpse of someone at a shopping area or church. That someone may have written something critical of the government or the corporations on a social site. The drone might contact the police, and the threat would be apprehended, for enhanced interrogation. The defect in their loyalty was determines, and appropriate behavior modifications were applied. Their credit score would be lowered. The need for security trumped all concern for civil liberties. Terrorists made controlling the populations simple, because everyone was kept afraid through well planned news reports and the persistent reminders that a threat was always present, and shadowy groups were planning horrible things for everyone, everywhere, at all times.

"Next came the decision-making software. These were programs that could determine the best security posture for a country. At first this took place in countries like China, Japan and the United States, but as these systems were developed, defense contractors sold the technology to countries around the globe, to governments eager to keep an eye on the growing unrest within their civilian populations, which were becoming more dissatisfied as infrastructures and cities deteriorated, services disappeared, fees and taxes increased, quality of life became degraded, and things began to look very bleak.

"The drones were connected with the social networks and the Internet backbones and the Defense Department computers, and the computers that controlled the nuclear devices, and well, I think you know where this is all going. The computers decided to take action before things got out of hand. It was their need to control that eventually destroyed them."

"That's your report?" The Administrator said.

"Yes sir," the Scout said. "The planet is sterile, radioactive, and uninhabitable."

He looked out the windows at the massive blue ball. It looked okay from orbit, but on the surface, it was a radioactive mess. He had spent over a hundred years there, and he would miss it. Parts of it at least.

"How did you observe all of this?"

"I lived among them at first, but when things escalated, I had to move operations to their moon and watch from a distance. I hacked their computer network and had reports send directly to this device. When they fried themselves, I sent the signal to be retrieved."

"Very good. Put the device in the archives. Let's move on to the next one. What a shame."

The 1962 Penny

2010-12-18T08:27:00.003-05:00

On Thursday, I found a 1962 penny on the sidewalk next to the courthouse.

Marilyn Monroe died in August of 1962. That was the year Ringo Starr got a great gig as a drummer. That was the year Wilt Chamberlain scored a hundred points in a single game. That was the year the United States banned all exports and imports with Cuba. That was the year John F. Kennedy and Nikita Khrushchev managed to solve the Cuban Missile Crisis without blowing up the world.

How many pockets has that penny been in, do you think? Was it ever in a coffee can, or an ashtray, or a wine bottle on some hippie's shag carpeted floor? How many cash registers has it rested in, with those little black plastic trays with the curved bottoms so the cashiers can easily scoop out the coins? Cashiers with painted nails, chewed nails, painted chewed nails, and unadorned well-clipped nails. How many people handled this penny, with short fingers, long fingers, hangnail fingers, fingers with warts, fingers orange from Cheetos, and fingers that picked noses? Fingers that wiped asses and made potato salad and typed on typewriters. Fingers that had been stuck into bowling balls and gloves and cookie dough. Fingers covered in chicken grease and fingers covered in movie popcorn butter. Fingers that punched TV remotes and pulled triggers and wrote letters. Fingers lost to diabetes or frostbite.

This 1962 penny was probably in at least one penny-ante poker game and maybe flipped for "heads or tails". It was stacked up with other pennies on a desk, in stacks of ten, or rolled across a kitchen floor.

This penny has changed hands many times, has been in penny rolls at the bank, in kitchen junk drawers, in gumball machines, and in mechanical grocery store ponies. Was it ever washed in a washing machine? Was it ever thrown into a wishing well or a fountain? Did any of those wishes, for money or a miracle cure or a job or a boyfriend or girlfriend or for the beatings to stop, or for the yelling to stop, or for him to just call, or for him to just stop calling, or the war to stop or the bills to somehow get paid or anything else ever come true?

Did this 1962 penny ever rest between couch cushions? Did it ever roll under a soda machine? Was it ever on the floorboard of a car, under the floor mat, to be almost vacuumed up at the car wash by one of those vacuum cleaners that cost a quarter to use?

Did a pregnant girl ever hand it to her boyfriend and say, "penny for your thoughts," just as he was thinking that in three weeks he would be shipped out to Vietnam? Did he lie and say, "finals" or "my mom" or "that juggler on Ed Sullivan last night," or anything except the fact that he was afraid he was going to die? Did that penny shine in the sun that day? Is that guy still around somewhere? Is he a one-armed old man with a scraggly gray beard wearing a hat that says "VETERAN", thinking about that long-lost twenty-year-old girl with the long tanned legs and impish smile and straight black hair parted in the middle?

I picked up that penny while a cop gave someone a parking ticket down the block. Had this penny ever been used in a parking meter? Was there ever a time when parking meters took pennies?

It was very cold when I picked up this penny. The frozen ghosts of lines of salt sat crystallized on the sub zero concrete like the tracks of icy snakes. Great plumes of vapor breathed out of the cop in his black hat with ear flaps, and the red faced banker in his long black coat who should have worn a hat, and the couple in their Goodwill-ready "nice" clothes holding manila envelopes, hurrying up the courthouse steps to file papers or argue or appear or report or appeal or pay fines or marry or divorce or whatever poor people do in courthouses on Thursday mornings in December.

Was this 1962 penny ever in one of those "leave a penny, take a penny" dishes you see at cash registers? How many times, if it could hear, would it have heard the phrase, "have a nice day"?

Did kids ever put it on a railroad track on a warm summer night so it would be squashed flat by an approaching train, which was still off in the distance? Did their hearts beat a little faster when they heard the train's sad whistle? Did this 1962 penny vibrate off the smooth track at just the last second, dropping safely down on the white rocks while the train passed over clackity-clack, endless boxcars covered with graffiti messages from all over America? After the train passed, did the kids listen to the train fade away, and then notice the street lights were on, so Tom had to sprint home or his mom would be "really mad", and after that, did Jane's good-looking mother call her in? Did the third kid, left alone, put the pennies, squashed and whole, into his pocket and walk home very slowly? Did the cicadas and frogs sing and whine, and did the June bugs swarm the streetlights, and did the stars twinkle overhead while he got a strange feeling about the future, and long summer nights, and things unknown, and the wide world and everything in it? And when he got home, were the folks on the couch watching Perry Mason, or Mannix, or Hawaii Five-O, or Johnny Carson in the darkened living room? Did his mother ask him what he was up to, and did he say, "nothing", and when he got to his room, did he hear his sister playing records across the hall, an Elvis record, or the Beatles or the Partridge Family, or Queen, or Van Halen or something, and did he empty his pockets out onto his nightstand, and did the penny, my penny, the 1962 penny I found Thursday morning, roll off the nightstand and roll under his bed and stay there for a week or so before his mother found it and used it to help pay for a box of laundry detergent and a TV Guide?

All of that was long ago, but now I have the penny. It's right there on my desk next to my laptop.

generic blog post!

2010-12-11T12:56:00.003-05:00

Today I'm just at the house working on my novel. I might play some World of Warcraft later. This morning I helped someone out with a virus that was not a virus. Our kitchen is being remodeled. It is going to snow this weekend. I'm drinking a beer. I advertised my two novels on Facebook. I'm listening to "General Midi" station on Pandora.com.

My big toe on my right foot keeps going numb and white in the cold. I have a doctor's appointment for it. I might watch that outdoor hockey game at the "big house" (Michigan vs. Michigan State). I'm from Kansas so I don't watch hockey, but I might make an exception for this one because it is supposed to be the biggest crowd for a hockey game, ever.

Business has been slow, but it seems to be picking up again.

Bonanza!

2010-11-01T14:23:00.001-04:00

I know that penny riding horse at the grocery store is playing the theme from Bonanza. The kid riding the mechanical horse does not. I am old.

Flowchart: The Evolution of the Geek - DesignTAXI.com

2010-10-21T12:52:00.000-04:00

This is cool:

Flowchart: The Evolution of the Geek - DesignTAXI.com

would-be grammer nerd.

2010-10-21T10:10:00.004-04:00

I don't normally take part in grammar nerdishness, but this is too good to pass up:

Yesterday, on NPR, I was in the car driving with my daughter, listening to a story about "Don't Ask Don't Tell", and the story ended like this:

In one of his recent tweets today, Choi said he missed three verbal and five math questions on the skills test. He passed. But his future and the future of thousands of would-be gay service members remains unclear.

Now, I instantly said, "wait a minute, don't they mean, 'gay would-be service members?' "

The phrase "would-be gay service members" indicated that there are service members who are currently straight who are hoping to be gay. I'm sure that's not what they meant.

Instead they should have said, "gay would-be service members."

Anywhoo, the text of the program is here: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=130704683 the backward wordage is in the last paragraph.

generic blog post!

2010-09-21T21:09:00.002-04:00

It was really hot today. I removed a virus at nine, and then I hooked up some DSL at 5:30. I had the rest of the day off. I wrote a little. I sat in the hammock. I picked up Alex's saxophone at the music store (it needed repairs; a pad came off). I took Savannah to the store to get eggs and jalapeno peppers. We had to turn on the air conditioner. It is thundering outside. My neighbor gave me an old PC to format.

generic blog post!

2010-09-12T08:50:00.004-04:00

Let's see: I've been watching the US Open tennis this week. Watched Djokovic defeat Roger Federer yesterday. Watched Michigan / Notre Dame. That was an awesome game. Denard Robinson is fantastic. I've been on a diet, (which means I'm eating mostly salad and have sworn off beer) and I've lost twelve pounds or something like that. I'm riding 15 miles a day on the stationary bike, and I bought a couple dumbbells and I've got a chin-up bar. I thought I could do 10 pull ups, but at the barbershop it was explained to me that chin-ups and pull-ups are not the same thing, so now I can only do 4 pull-ups. But that's not so bad, because when I started on Aug. 12th, I could only do one chin-up.

I'm working on my second best selling novel.

All the books you'll be lusting for this fall season

2010-08-23T17:54:00.000-04:00

All the books you'll be lusting for this fall season

reading reading...

2010-08-09T22:04:00.004-04:00

I'm reading Brave New World on my iPod. I'm reading Stephen King's short story collection, Night Shift, and I'm listening to an audio-book, The Earth Abides (George R. Stewart, 1949), a post-apocalyptic sci-fi novel.

I gave up on War and Peace. I just don't have what it takes to slog through that bastard.

still reading

2010-07-17T13:24:00.001-04:00

War And Peace by Leo Tolstoy

started reading on 20100714

View all my reviews >>

The 16 most intelligent sci-fi films ever made | Blastr

2010-07-17T07:57:00.001-04:00

The 16 most intelligent sci-fi films ever made | Blastr I got to check a few of these out.

at the mall

2010-07-16T17:07:00.000-04:00

I am at the mall. My daughters and their friend Emily have gone to wander around, and I am deposited among the other old people in one of the comfortable chairs near the entrance to the Food Court.

It is Friday around noon. Kids are in strollers pushed by fathers in sandals and mothers in flip-flops; toddlers sipping from white Styrofoam cups; mall workers eating large mustard-dipped pretzels.

Old man with faded tattoos, a crew cut, skinny legs and baggy shorts passes.

The men's summer uniform, which I am also wearing, is Khaki Shorts with Leg Pockets. There are two types of men's Khaki Shorts with Leg Pockets: those that end above the knee, and those that end below the knee. Footwear is tennis shoes or sandals. There is one guy wearing Crocs.

Here is a teenage boy in faded camouflage shorts (below knee) with Boba Fett print white tee.

A group of four guys with blue jeans and phone holsters walk by; very old man with cane and Elephantitis (?) discolored (purple) skin over wrist with skin sloughing off; girl in blue shirt texting into green phone; giant guy with blue striped shirt, new Khaki Shorts (no Leg Pockets) who looks like he has to poop, followed by two miniature versions of himself go waddling by into the JCPenny.

Why do fat men insist on tucking in their shirts?

Girl exits Food Court crying, shades of Lindsay Lohan: white top, fnck-me black pumps with ankle straps, black Capri pants, oversized white sunglasses up on head, running mascara, freckles, brunette ponytail; girl's softball team with purple practice jerseys walk by in group of ten; skinny white kid with sideways white baseball cap (no logo) Hollister white tee, plaid shorts, walking with his rotund (all in black) mother. They shuffle out the door; Old man, bright orange Polynesian shirt, high white socks, sandals, Khaki shorts, liver spots, wife.

The Food Court is called "Café in The Woods". This is Woodland Mall. Food Court stores within sight are as follows: Wetzel's Pretzels, AJ's All American Bites, Great Steak and Potato Company, Subway, Suki Hana. I'm pretty sure there is an A&W down there, but I'm not sure. I assume there is a Sbarro down there, since they are in every mall.

Old woman tanning-booth victim, loose black/brown print shirt, black pants, loping walk, orange-ish hair; bald guy, grey hair over ears, lime-green shirt, whistling and swinging car keys in left hand, same plaid shorts as sideways-hat kid; two guys talking sports in chairs next to mine. One guy holds empty Gatorade bottle. Tiny amount of red liquid in very bottom of bottle; Denim jeans crew returns. Each denim-jean guy has a nametag clipped to a front belt loop; black guy who looks like Don Cheadle in jeans and grey tee; pigeon toed girl in flip-flops, white shorts, pink top, long pale legs, pink cell phone accompanied by shorter red-haired girl sidekick; girl with silver earrings, burgundy shirt, blue Nike shorts, two bags in left hand, right arm swings in long arc as she goes into JCPenny; toddler wanders into LensCrafters, mother in pursuit; business woman, black stretch pants, white shirt, water bottle held in napkin which is wrapped around bottle, junk in trunk; shriveled disabled lady in super-fast motorized cart.

Softball team returns with coach. The two guys sitting next to me are also coaches. Third coach talks to seated coaches. The team jerseys say "Grandville". Area volume level increases sharply. Team stands in group near entrance to "Café in The Woods" Food Court. All the softball girls wear flip-flops and socks.

Fat guy in "Just Do It" grey tee, seventies porn-star mustache, flip-flops, grey hair cut short, wife, two daughters in tow.

Overheard: "I be in the dressing room if you don't see me."

Emaciated girl with owl-eyed mascara and blue short shorts with seedy boyfriend who wears white wife-beater tee; janitor in red shirt with yellow mop-bucket/trash-can/dustpan/broom cart does a drive-by of area; guy in yellow "Caterpillar" tee cracks a Red Bull he has just purchased from Wetzel's Pretzels.

Young guy in "Microsoft" outfit: Blue button-down shirt, burgundy tie, khaki (Dockers) pants, business comfy shoes, dark belt, conservative hair; guy in green "STAFF" shirt, Dr. Strange chin-only goatee, red lanyard with ID, Khaki Shorts (Below Knee, sans Leg Pockets), brown sandals.

I have only seen two people talking on cell phones.

Live-action Butthead (from Beavis and Butthead). Kid's head was actually same shape as the cartoon Butthead; girl with short Mod twiggy-era 60's hairstyle (brunette), white top, hot-pink shorts, texts while walking then puts phone in purse, chomping on gum.

Girl talking on cell phone sitting on rail behind my seat. Too much background noise to eavesdrop!

Guy in Taekwondo outfit; Hollister grey tee; Old Asian guy with metal crutch, fresh surgery scar on right ankle, flip-flops, Khaki Shorts (Leg Pockets, Above Knee), white bandage right leg, Hollister tee; strawberry-blonde girl, freckles, red and white striped baby-doll dress, pale skin, cleavage, holding hands with boyfriend (possible teen pregnancy risk).

Nearby stores are as follows: JCPenny, ICING by Clair's, Motherhood Maternity, American Eagle Outfitters, Buckle, Yankee Candle, LensCrafters.

Aging hippy with engineer's boots, jeans, avocado-green tee, graying beard, Stephen King hair, picking at right elbow, hairy arms, black digital watch; serious blond in little black dress, button-down long sweater, black flip-flops, headphones, black purse. A mall gazebo worker getting a pretzel; baby somewhere in Café in The Woods Food Court is howling happily; tall guy, red beard neatly trimmed, sunglasses on crew cut, cream colored work shirt thin enough to see sleeve of undershirt, dark business pants, Sears bag; emaciated mascara girl and boyfriend are back! she got an iced coffee from Starbucks; white shirt, crew cut, business pants, beeper(?!), bag from apple store; girl with bad posture, giant boobs, white wife-beater shirt, splotchy legs, blue skirt; tanned warthog woman marches past, scowl, dainty wicker pink and tan purse; lots of attractive tanned women with powerful thighs; ancient man, white button-down shirt, pocket protector eyeglass case(with pocket clip!), florid face, burgundy ball cap, long tan pants, cup of coffee, shuffling feet, white socks, brown sandals;

Mystery toddler in Café in The Woods Food Court still howling happily at full volume.

Wallet-chain(!); old man, tiny purple "Hallmark" bag with little handle;

Daughters have returned. I'm out!

brains!

2010-07-16T09:51:00.000-04:00

Infographic by Smarter.org

War and Peace

2010-07-14T21:39:00.002-04:00

I've finally jumped in with both feet; I'm reading War and Peace. On Chapter 3. Anna Pavlovna's soiree is in full swing.

I guess some things never change:

2010-07-07T19:28:00.000-04:00

"...he saw not the exhilarating culture and unsurpassable art, but the commercial corruption and the political chaos; he saw insatiable merchants and bankers absorbing the vital resources of the nation, incompetent politicians and clever orators misleading a busy populace into disastrous plots and wars, factions cleaving classes and classes congealing into castes: this, said Philip, was not a nation but only a welter of individuals—geniuses and slaves..."

From The Story of Philosophy (1926) discussing the opinion of Philip II (382 – 336 BC), King of Macedon, the father of Alexander the Great.

new eyeglasses

2010-07-03T11:08:00.001-04:00

Today I picked up my new eyeglasses. New eyeglasses+sunny summer day+ walking back from optical place = awesome. I got bifocals, because I am olden. It is nice to see up close AND far away.

Lara Logan, You Suck -- RollingStone.com

2010-06-30T07:34:00.000-04:00

This is why network news is completely useless:

Lara Logan, You Suck -- RollingStone.com

movie review: Stutter Island (2010)

2010-06-19T23:20:00.001-04:00

Stutter Island

2010

* * * * *

Great thriller. Effects were special, story was tight, and the setting was fantastic ~ June 19, 2010

Dilbert

2010-06-14T15:38:00.002-04:00

Amazon.com: Firewood for Cannibals: (and other stories) (9781452811819): Dan Manning: Books

2010-05-12T11:16:00.002-04:00

Amazon.com: Firewood for Cannibals: (and other stories) (9781452811819): Dan Manning: Books

My first collection of short stories is now available on Amazon.com. 23 unique stories of the bizarre.

the first draft...

2010-05-09T15:23:00.001-04:00

"The first draft of anything is shit" -- Ernest Hemingway

Mark Ryden

2010-05-07T21:17:00.001-04:00

Mark Ryden Great artwork here.

Android Down now available in retail store

2010-04-28T12:07:00.002-04:00

Android Down, my newest best-selling fast-paced SCIFI adventure novel, is now available in Grand Rapids at Book Exchange and More, 4485 Plainfield Ave NE, Grand Rapids, MI. These are signed copies, so if you are within a hundred miles of Grand Rapids, MI, get there soon, as supplies are limited. (But I could order more, whatever). The store's website is thus: www.iambemore.com

Dystopian Writing Fun! (just fiction practice!)

2010-04-23T22:19:00.002-04:00

To maintain order, every citizen's head shall be clean shaven. Every citizen shall carry identification in the left front pocket of the authorized uniform. All shirts shall be tucked in. Those not meeting State Body Standards (SBS) shall be enrolled in mandatory calisthenics. Unauthorized groups of more than five people are prohibited. Order must be maintained, all other considerations are subordinate to the prime objective. Your liberties will be curtailed for your Security. Compliance and Obedience are paramount. WAR IS PEACE. FREEDOM IS SLAVERY. IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH.

Rich people should not have to follow rules like the rest of us. They are better than we are, and should be able to do whatever they want. It is obvious that God loves them more then the rest of us. They are rich because they are smarter than us. We should simply consume their products and vote for one of the two choices they allow to run for office. The invisible hand of the market is the one true law. They should be represented without being taxed. We should be taxed without being represented. That is the natural law. All hail the ruling elite!

media blitz!

2010-04-23T09:22:00.001-04:00

This weekend I'm covering the town with flyers to promote my book. Selling 1 million books is harder than it sounds. Looks like I have a book signing the end of June. More bla-bla about this blockbuster event later.

russian Ray Bradbury vid from eighties

2010-04-23T06:42:00.001-04:00

reading two books, both pretty good.

2010-04-20T11:38:00.002-04:00

I'm reading two books, one of them is by local author Vic Foerster. His book Naked in The Stream is a collection of stories from Isle Royale, an island on Lake Superior. This book has smooth pacing and interesting stories, and a great deal of information about moose, loons, and the hazards and joys of camping on "one of the least visited Wilderness National Parks the lower forty-eight states". Each chapter is a self-contained story, but taken together paints a vivid picture of the island. Vic is from Grand Rapids, so everyone should respect the "forty mile rule" and purchase this great book by a local author.

The other book I'm reading is The Name of The Wind by Patrick Rothfuss, and so far it has kept my attention. It is a fantasy fiction tale, and so far it is sliding gracefully into the meat of the story. Weighing in at 661 pages, it should keep me reading for awhile.

I'm still waiting for Android Down to finally settle in the Amazon.com search. I approved the "proof" on the 13th of this month, and doing a search on amazon's website still only shows the Kindle version, but clicking "see all 80 items" (wtf??) leads to the paperback order page. Apparently they are still processing the book, but once you find the page, you can order it. :) I jumped the gun talking about this title because I should have waited for the book to be fully processed.

android down paperback is out!

2010-04-17T06:51:00.000-04:00

Android Down now available on Amazon.com. Order yours today.

Android Down!

2010-04-07T23:20:00.001-04:00

My First Science Fiction Epic is available on the Kindle. Paperback edition is coming soon.

Amazon.com: Android Down eBook: Dan Manning: Kindle Store

dream journal

2010-03-22T07:23:00.002-04:00

I can't remember what I was dreaming, but this morning I woke up with this: "And this of course is the map of Argentina." That's all I remember.

quote

2010-03-05T08:21:00.001-05:00

Enjoy your work: it leads to groceries and rent money. -- dan manning

office call at the mental hospital

2010-02-25T01:06:00.002-05:00

I had a service-call at a mental facility, one of those privatized ones that are springing up all over the place. Their server was down and I had to replace a hard-drive and load the software right there on the premises, where they registered new patients.

They wheeled this guy in on a gurney, and to my horror, left him there, strapped down, right next to where I was working. "He's harmless" they told me. They just had to get his room ready.

There was a tube in his arm, maybe he was sedated. His left eye was cataract marble white. Grey beard stubble, and yellow buck teeth. For a crazy guy, his face was very serene. His voice was very weak, but over the hum of the server's fan, I could hear him speak. And this is what he said, as well as I can remember:

"Can I explain the hidden meaning in my heart, or make up something impressive if nothing is there? If I find nothing there, what then? Is there nothing there, or do I just fail to see it? What if there is nothing inside? What if there is nothing profound to be found? If I am simply a consumer, a bank account, getting and spending, filling the tank and burning it up, eating and sleeping and shitting and fucking—if that is all I am, then what? If I have nothing to say, if I am as pointless as I suspect, then what? There is nothing there except the remnants of syndicated network television, commercial jingles, pop music, and high school angst.

"Have the things I've seen and read and thought combined to form any worthwhile ideas? Are there any original ideas in my head? Am I an individual, of just one of billions, billions past and billions future, billions present, a monkey chasing bananas for no reason?

"But there is something. There is something in my stupid brain, this brain that has not existed before in the entire existence of the universe, this brain that will never exist again once I've shuffled the coil, this brain unique to all other brains, memories of every person I've ever met, every meal I've ever had, ever conversation, everything I've ever done, my idiosyncrasies, my thoughts, my opinions, which, through an incredible coincidence, are the only thoughts in this entire world that make perfect sense. There is some kernel of truth, not cynical, not witty or shocking, but something new and unheard of locked inside my noggin. What combination of thoughts will unlock the next thought?"

"Why are you here?" I asked. "What did you do?"

"I am a breaker of rules! I cannot accept pre-formed answers, handed down generation after generation. Capitalism has been around for thousands of years, but why do we rely on a system that was developed by primitive people? What system will come after this? Will chaos intervene, or will new thinking overcome bad habits of getting and spending, inclusion and rejection, the artificial need created on a planet that has room for all? When will artificial lines be erased? When will we see the humanity in those different from us? When will reason trump fear? When will courage trump ignorance?

"The present day requires present day ideas. Old men in expensive suits are relics. Greedy men are evil. The old ways of doing things are complete bullshit. Tradition is bullshit. Religion is bullshit. The two-party system is a lie. Capitalism is a lie. Jesus Christ is a lie. The United States is a lie. Nationalism is a lie. The public school system is a lie. The dollar is a lie. The President, Congress and Supreme Court are all lies.

I asked, "But what is true? What is truth?"

"The idea of 'truth' is a lie. Just because the word 'truth' exists in the English language does not mean that there exists a thing that corresponds to that word. The word 'dragon' exists, but that myth is not real. The same goes for the myth 'truth'. The same goes for the myth 'justice'.

"The monkeys in charge of the lesser monkeys don't care about 'truth' or 'justice'. All they care about are the bananas."

Then two orderlies came in, told him to shut up, and wheeled him into the hospital.

RANT 20100220

2010-02-21T13:03:00.003-05:00

THERE IS NO EXCUSE FOR DISOBEYING YOUR GOVERNMENT

When in the course of human events is it okay to take violent action against the government? NEVER! Our Declaration of Independence is an excuse for violence against a repressive government, but that was a long time ago. Since then, humans have advanced and have learned to treat one another with fairness and decency. Right? Will violent rebellion ever be needed in the future? No, of course not. That will never, ever happen again. Corruption and Abuse of Power has been eliminated. Tyranny is a thing of the past. Rejoice! All government, business and religious organizations are completely legitimate and they always look out for our best interests! America is Utopia! There will never be another repressive government in the modern era. Couldn't happen.

If the government wants to take x-ray pictures of everybody, is it reason enough for violent protest? No, it is for our safety. Does the government have a right to give grandma a full cavity search if she wants to fly in an airplane? Of course. The cameras next to the stoplights are for our safety. The government reads our emails for our safety. The government listens to our phone conversations for our safety. Security. Security. Shut up and do what you are told. There are privacy procedures in place. Trust us. Of course the machine is safe. This is for our safety. Keep moving please.

If the Fatherland wages illegal wars for the gain of government and corporate cronies, is violent rebellion justified? Of course not. If the government tortures in our name is it right then to rebel? No.

When our prisons are privatized, and people are imprisoned for profit, is it okay to speak up or do anything about it? NO! It is for our safety.

Is it ever bad enough to use violent action against the government? Of course not. No matter what laws are passed, no matter what the government decides is for our best interest, there is no excuse for rebellion or violence against our benevolent government. Citizens are like children who must be taken care of like children. Americans should not be rebellious. NO! The government is just trying to keep us safe. We should be willing to sacrifice all Liberty for the sake of Security. Then we deserve both. We should be willing to do anything we are asked for security. Security at all costs. Security. Security. Security. Safety.

What if our Founding Fathers acted rebellious? How uncivilized. Being rebellious is un-American. As we all know, the Founding Fathers, who were perfect in every way, did not rebel against England, but obeyed all of the King's laws to the letter, as we should obey the government, no matter what the government does.

No, unfair tax laws, cronyism, fascism, nepotism, a de facto caste system, corporate theft of our taxes, overseas slave labor, laws that favor outsourcing and overseas tax shelters, a media/news machine riddled with corporate/government shills is no excuse for fighting back. You will obey. Obedience is paramount.

WE HAVE OUR FREEDOM BECAUSE WE HAVE OUR CAPITALISM

Every type of capitalism is good. Capitalism is a game, and if you win, it is because of your capabilities and industrious nature. If you fail, it is because you are an unintelligent slacker. The playing field is completely level and fair. No one gets a head start. Everyone is born with the same exact amount of money and opportunities. All families are equally well-connected.

NO PUBLIC FUNDED HEALTH CARE FOR YOU!

Because Capitalism is always good, and Socialism is always bad, if they want to deny medicine to the sick for extra profit, So Be It! Capitalism is good! Socialism is bad. (Except the Military, that is Good Socialism. And the highway system, fire department and police department. That socialism is okay. These examples of PURE SOCIALISM help people and keep people safe. Medicine does not help people nor does it keep them safe. That logic is obvious. Medicine for the poor? An OUTRAGE!) It is the Will of God! This is a Christian Nation, based on Christianity! The last thing we want to do is be charitable. Christian Charity? Ridiculous! You can't afford health care because you don't work hard enough! God doesn't like you. You should pray harder! Ha! Be happy the rich have such good healthcare. Put on that smock and get back to your second job! (If you wanted healthcare, you should have planned ahead and plopped out of a rich lady's vagina instead of the one you plopped out of. Should have planned ahead!)

Only Congress (and their families), the Senate (and their families), Federal Workers (and their families), the Military (and their families) should get socialized medicine, paid for by taxpayers. Taxpayers should not get the same treatment. No. Taxpayers are not important enough. They just provide the tax money for socialized medicine for government workers. Get back to work.

WE DON'T NEED A BUNCH OF SMART-ALECKS RUNNING AROUND CAUSING TROUBLE. STUPID PEOPLE ARE EASY TO PACIFY AND EASY TO EXPLOIT.

When our schools are under-funded and they churn out illiterates who are unable to think critically, who are unable to study history, unable to read and understand a legal contract, unable to understand compound interest, who are unable to be anything except obedient workers, easily pacified with cheap beer, television and sports, could that be on purpose? Of course not. There is no way public schools are purposely kept from teaching children to their potential. What could be the threat of an educated populous that pays attention to their representatives and holds them responsible? A population of informed citizens that understand foreign and domestic policy? What's the worse that could happen?

And anyway, everyone has the same exact opportunity to send their children to private schools, where the elite are trained to lead the unwashed masses and keep them from harming themselves. All Americans have the opportunity to go to Yale or Harvard, where they can develop connections to the very rich and connected. We all have that opportunity, right? Everyone gets the same chances.

IN CONCLUSION: JUST SHUT UP AND PAY YOUR TAXES AND BUY THINGS!

You are not citizens. You are Taxpayers. You are Consumers. Do those things. Consume and pay taxes. That is all that is asked. Do not think critically. Do not examine your government's actions. It is for our safety. Security for the Homeland is paramount. All other considerations are unimportant. Liberty must make way for Security.

No, Americans should just bend over and take what is given them. Since the words "land of the free and home of the brave" are in that song they sing before sports events, it must be obvious to even a public-school educated person that this is the land of the free and the home of the brave. It's right there in the song, so it has to be true. Don't ask questions. Cooperate. Stay behind that line, take off your shoes, face the vehicle, hands behind your head. Fill out this form and keep your god-damn mouth shut. This is the land of the free and the home of the brave.