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Here’s a post I just wrote about a rant I did back in around 1996. This was what led to my new book, “Recipe For Chaos,” due to be released 2/28/15. Assuming there IS a 2/28/15. Is that a leap year?

Original Rant (click)

Here’s one of about nine different introductions I’ve written for my next book, Recipe for Chaos. The problem is, there are dozens of ways to write the intro, that I can see. Maybe there are hundreds more. It’s hard to choose The One that will be the most effective in pulling readers into the book.

Here’s one possibility.


 

I’m playing a game.

You too, you’re playing a game.

We’re on the same general playing field, this whacky blue spinning ball, but we play the game on micro-fields with different environments. No two people share the same environment or players around them. We’re not even sure if we’re playing against others or ourselves. We might be playing against the insects or dolphins for all we know.

Many of the rules we follow in playing The Game are the same. But, The Game isn’t fair in any way. It’s completely unfair. It couldn’t be more unfair because no two people have the same advantages and disadvantages.

Not everyone in the game has two arms and ten fingers.

Not everyone in the game can even count the fingers on one hand.

Not everyone in the game has control over their own mind.

The Game is pressure-cooker intense, perhaps because we don’t understand it. As it is, we think many things are important that probably are not. We stress ourselves over minutiae that might not matter at all.

The Game is all a bit much to deal with sometimes.

Some decide to exit early. Suicide is a commonly chosen option. Others vegetate on drugs or television. Some ignore the Big Game and play their own smaller games – seeking the ultimate level of fitness, higher video game scores, business success, or social media mastery. All these are great diversions for people that would rather not face a bigger game of figuring out what we are here on earth for.

On average we suffer the game for seventy years or so. Some die at six-years-old from brain cancer. Others die at ninety-six from slipping on a child’s toy.

Figuring out the big picture regarding The Game and what started it all is slowly driving me mad.

God, The Force, Aliens, The Matrix, whatever name you know it by, I call it “Oz”, is plainly not here to answer any questions about The Game and what the point of life is. Oz is not an active part of today’s game. Oz doesn’t give us any clues as to what the game is about other than what we already have. For the record, I believe Oz is some sort of powerful god-like force that need not look like a human, or a glowing mass of plasma. Oz could be alien blob kids that whipped up this game for their science class project for all I know. I really believe that as much as I do there being some man-like god that looks anything like us.

Some might say we don’t have much to go on to figure out the point of life and to figure out something about Oz. I think we do. I think we have a lot to go on.

Every time I take a look around I see something that tells me more about Oz. Some people walk through a forest and marvel at the tall redwood trees as something their god created or planned for. Others see a flower or a child and they see god in the mix. Still others see a rainbow stretching across a stunning landscape and proclaim their love and devotion for one god or another.

I also see Oz in all of that. In addition, I see Oz in the messy diaper my daughter soiled black. I see Oz in the suffering of a young child with terminal cancer. I see Oz in overweight people eating ice-cream and walking around the mall.

I see Oz all over the place. Every day, if you look closely, you can see various aspects of The Game we’re all playing and how that reflects on Oz.

Oz made the game and all that is in it. There is nothing that escaped Oz’s comprehensive plan. There couldn’t have been anything left to chance or The Game couldn’t have gone on as long as it has. The complicated nature of interwoven dynamics that support our lives on this planet are far too tenuous to be based on a half-assed plan. No, the plan was very well put together. Seamless and complete.

I believe Oz outlined the rules of the game and all that we have. Then, we weren’t given a choice, we were made to play it.

We may not even be the main players in the game for all we know. We sure think we are because our ego-ruled minds tell us we’re the point of this game.

Are we though?

I don’t know.

That’s just one of the many questions we can look at.

Other burning questions that prompted my writing this book:

1. What is Oz?
2. What is the point of The Game we’re all playing?

This book is my attempt to look at all that we have in The Game and see how that might help paint a picture of Oz.

I want to know the point of this game, sure, but what really intrigues me more is what Oz is, and the WHY of The Game. Why are we all playing this? Why does life appear to be filled with negative events and challenges? How can we lose? How can we win? Are we playing against ourselves or against other people? What happens after this Game? Is there another game we face next time? Is it more difficult than this one? Are we all going through fifty lifetimes of games to see who comes out the other end as a winner? Or, are we going through fifty lifetimes of games so Oz can see what evolves that might be better than human beings?

The possibilities are endless as far as what happens after this game – right?

So, I just want to take a look at this world we live in, and all the rules that we play The Game by. I want to see what the rules we have, say about Oz. Do they help us build a picture of what Oz is really all about? Or, does it all lead nowhere?

I feel like I must give it my best shot to figure out because it has been on my mind for decades now. I’ve put off writing this book for so long because I couldn’t wrap my head around how to create a comprehensive book on the subject.

The answer is, that would be impossible. We can’t possibly look at every single aspect of The Game and put it all together and figure out what Oz is, what Oz meant by creating all this.

What we can do, I’m hoping, is to take a sample of what we see and try to infer something about Oz that gives us more to go on.

Sounds reasonable, right?


Please help me out by answering these few questions. THANKS!!


You know how you sort of know somebody, but you don’t. I mean, you guess things, but you’re not really sure just how well you know a friend until you see something that shows you exactly what he’s all about?

I met Andy when he and some buddies came from the Pacific northwest – Seattle, Oregon, for herping in Thailand. Catching snakes, that is. He was really adventurous, throwing caution to the wind most of the time, and just going for it. He was brought up well, a respectful guy, brilliant guy, and fun to be around as long as you weren’t going to become a casualty of his antics. That’s why this video was so right on.

I just saw my his proposal to his wife. He video taped it.

UHM, T – W – I – S – T – E – D doesn’t BEGIN to describe it!

Grab yourself a strong drink and have a watch:

Woody Allen close-up portrait.

Woody Allen gives me a great close-up shot just a block from his home on Central Park West. ©1989 Vern Lovic

This was 1989 maybe. It’s been a while.

I was walking around NYC with my friend, Ted. We spotted Woody Allen with a woman that wasn’t Mia Farrow. We followed for a bit, took some photos. Ted went across the street and took some photos. Woody turned around and came straight back at me. Taking photos as he came toward me he motioned for me to put my camera down.

“I just want to talk to you for a second.”

“What are you doing with the camera taking my photo?”

“You’re Woody Allen, I want to get some good photos.”

“What would you think if I ripped those cameras off your neck right now?”

I paused, getting ready to beat his dumb ass in front of hundreds of people if he pushed me or attempted to take my cameras.

“I don’t think you’ll do that.”

He got closer, right up in my face.

“WHY NOT? WHAT IF I DO IT RIGHT NOW?”

“You’ll be on the cover of every newspaper and magazine all over the world. Look across the street.”

He did. My friend ted was zoomed in with his 300mm telephoto.

Woody stepped back a meter from me.

“What kind of photo do you think you’re going to get then?”

“I don’t know. Something I can sell to the newspapers. Maybe you falling off the curb. Maybe you kissing the woman you’re with.”

“Well, you’re not going to get anything like that. Here, take a photo now.”

“I don’t want a photo like that. Can’t sell it.”

Woody was now really agitated.

“You’re scaring my friend over there, just take a photo right here.”

I thought briefly about it. Decided I wasn’t out to piss off the world. I told him, “OK, wait, I need to change lenses.”

I changed to my 85mm F1.8 lens, my sharpest, and I took this shot.

“That’s it then, you’re not following us any more?”

Sure Woody, that’s it. Thanks.

Just blew through Twitter this morning which led to reading a few things, some of which you might really like:

Tim Ferriss talks about John McPhee – staff writer for The New Yorker, and taking a class with him at Princeton. Also within the post is an article written about McPhee by one of his former students. Quite good.

I was happy to see McPhee loves a paragraph from my favorite book ever – Joseph Conrad’s The Heart of Darkness. I’ll paste it below.

“Going up that river was like traveling back to the earliest beginnings of the world, when vegetation rioted on the earth and the big trees were kings. An empty stream, a great silence, an impenetrable forest. The air was warm, thick, heavy, sluggish. There was no joy in the brilliance of sunshine.” JC, The Heart of Darkness

Here’s an article JM wrote about Writer’s Block.

If you ever wondered what great writing looked like, and you weren’t quite sure, here is a list of John McPhee’s articles at The New Yorker, sixteen pages of articles to scroll through. I really do like his style.

The Essentials of Writing a Fiction Novel. This is mine. It’s a 9,000 word look at exactly what I do when I write books for Amazon. I’ve written 26 books I think it is. Quite, quite good!

You're somewhere there, in one of these living spaces and you're hiding from the end of the year. Isn't there something you need to GET DONE?

You’re somewhere there, in one of these living spaces and you’re hiding from the end of the year. Isn’t there something you need to GET DONE?

Probably at the beginning of 2014 you said optimistic things like you were going to accomplish something in 2014.

Probaby you did.

I did.

I said I was going to write a Big Book. I was thinking about fiction primarily, but it hasn’t worked out that way. I didn’t start and finish any Big Book in 2014, fiction or otherwise. Not yet.

I’m 60,000+ words into writing a Big Book that I’ll finish by Dec 31, 2014. I need to make this goal. The editing will take place afterward. Hopefully I’ll have the book on the street in February 2015. Let’s see how the editing goes.

I’ll write another 40,000 words in the next three weeks. Really in about the next ten days. Four thousand words a day isn’t very much for me when I write these sorts of books that are basically just spilling what’s in my head into digital format.

The 10-11 days after that will be spent editing and re-writing parts, rearranging pieces of it, and all that.

Hand off to my brilliant niece on the 31st, and then get my ass going on a Big Fiction Book for 2015. I’ve decided I write nothing but Big Books from now on. I’m tired of wasting my time with fifty page books that I think are great, but that aren’t targeted toward a big enough audience.

Big Books or nothing in 2015.

Have you promised yourself you’re going to accomplish something in 2014?

You still have about 21 days to knock it out.

KNOCK IT OUT!

[Image by @^ ^@elias at flickr.com]

There’s something missing from 95% of all videos I’ve seen on YouTube regarding seeing UFOs and aliens.

Out of your mind, pissing your pants, scratching your eyes out TERROR.

Here’s how I evaluate whether someone actually saw something they cannot explain. Does the overall tone of their story reflect how scared out of their minds they were and everyone else was? Did someone or all of them lose their bowels?

Or, are they talking about the event like a visit to grandma’s house?

I’m telling you what, though I’ve seen some weird stuff – the ball of light come through the window in the hotel, for instance, it didn’t have a face, swollen head, arms and legs and gigantic eyes. If it did, I’d have jumped from the bed and gotten the fuck out that hotel faster than it could have disappeared in a puff of smoke. Either that, or I’d have thrown things at it to destroy it because I feared for my life.

So many people get on YouTube in an interview about actually SEEING alien beings in front of them and they don’t talk about how they absolutely lost their minds trying to understand what the thing was and whether they were in horrible danger. That doesn’t seem logical to me. Not at all.

Here is a guy that supposedly, as a child, came upon the Roswell crash in 1947 with his family. It’s like they’re all out for a stroll through the desert and then witness 4 alien beings outside a crashed craft. Nobody is inhibited in interacting with these things. Nobody is screaming uncontrollably. In fact, another group of kids comes by on an archeological field trip and they’re all picking up pieces of the crashed saucer and putting them in their pockets for christ’s holy sake. Come on man… please, stop the nonsense. Go get yourself a life Gerald Anderson.

Watch this entire video and see if some part of it doesn’t affect you.

I’ve been affected greatly by this.

Thanks Eric!

GO ALL IN!

I just wrote a post you must see…

ALL IN!

Just found this.

It’s a playlist of videos done with writers on Amazon’s Kindle Digital Publishing platform. I just let it play on and on in the background this morning while checking email and twitter, and there was some inspiring stuff. Pick and choose from the videos, some are in Espanol.