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It is a new year.

Saturday, 12 January, 2013

Forgive me. This is very off the cuff and may be less coherent than usual.

As the year changed, I was presented with a variety of options to see what I’ve been typing about all year. It appears I have spent the last nine months of 2012 ranting about what I’m going to do. Switching plans consistently to something less ambitious, then in October started seriously writing a series of essays. That is, I want to communicate via video (dare not call it art) or even audio-only, but must confront the adequacy of my tools. Hence typing up my thoughts being the limit of my technology.

That said, I have indulged myself, largely for the distraction, into another person’s creative project. This is someone I know only over the internet. My participation is largely limited to advice based on experience as an involved viewer, mostly second-hand knowledge about the mechanics of show business and more than a little technically oriented research into live streaming video as a distinct form of media. I find this work edifying, although it is not scratching my itch and is without remuneration. Among my personal goals is to discover the value of my knowledge for my own future purposes, if any.

I do want to do my own such presentation, especially after spending a year or so being dared to do so by virtual friends in the biz, but again run up against the limits of my technology. This tech would cost about $800 and is stuff I should have around the house anyway. Presently it is more important for me to fill up the fiscal and emotional holes I have created through misplaced ambition.

I do experience a bit of shame seeing how I have ranted so about what I intend to do without ever accomplishing anything. I do not always plan so publicly, and now realize such public declarations are not fruitful in any way. The rather severe retraction of my real world social circle over the last three years, and this is due in no small part to the fact that I really am losing my mind, has implications for my creative processes.

That is, what I create I must create alone. No involvement with media for which I know next to nothing, (music, proper visual art, anything using the body as a medium such as dance or proper acting) No one to bounce ideas off of. Of course, in this era the objective is to support the ego of the creator rather than assist or dissuade within the actual creative process. Perhaps this is why we see so much craft in lieu of art. I do not intend to disparage craft, but it is a different thing and my side of the street.

I am developing in a glacially slow process a series of essays which may appear here in a further developed form. The working title of a presumably self-published book is Solitary Poor Nasty Brutish and Short: Observations of a Man Who Does Not Matter. I don’t like two part titles, but it seems to be the thing to do.

Until recently I had an editor and sent along three (of thirteen) sections from the first draft of the epic rant, or series of essays on which I am working. With her permission, I shall paraphrase some of her comments.

The work is unnecessarily bleak and entirely absent a sense of hope or encouragement. There is the promise of a destiny fulfilled and it is that of a hopeless future within a world defined by fear and waste.

It should be said my editor presumed this was part a work of fiction told from the point of view of a protagonist based on myself rather than a series of sociopolitical essays without code words. She gave up pointing out elements which must be properly fact checked due to the vast number even within a mere 8K words.

At least I was able to communicate that which I intended. I have, without ill feelings, now lost my editor; she just doesn’t want to read any more. I have not worked on the thing at all this year aside from new notes and am losing faith in the concept. It may be time to set it aside for a little while. Perhaps I already have.

My other thing which shall be done solely as a distraction, something for which the technical and content aspects require much future research, is presently called Angrystan Live!. This would be a streaming-video presentation featuring my (admittedly poor but sincere) singing to carefully chosen karaoke tracks, some story telling, interactive chat, possibly a call-in element and potentially practical illusions (read: “magic tricks” an interest since my early teen years). Aside from the technical aspects, another barrier to be overcome is the venue. Presumably this would be done through an existing streaming media site, JustinTV, Ustream, Stickam, etc., although none of these appear at present to support both an audience older than teenagers and the DIY aesthetic I’m working. Someone has suggested Chaturbate, and it is not beyond consideration, although fails my test for specific aesthetic reasons in a distinctive way. I would like the potential of being paid for Angrystan Live, if for no other reason than to keep score.

If any of my readers happen to be members of a site known for its many f***ing crashes, know that I may test bed and tweak the show there. That could be something of a way of giving back in a non-financial way to a site which has given me so much.

and this is the last of my talking about what I intend to do creatively. Although I may discuss the technical details of the live show should I ever get to that point.

The Hamburger Diaries are on indefinite hiatus as that sort of thing now makes me sick when I eat it.


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