The Old Mill Stream of Consciousness

A little about me... it is my blog after all.
I'm old. I know this because I am grizzled. I wish my voice was deeper, it would help my acting career. Perhaps I should take up smoking.
My kids enjoy playing games on the floor. I don't, it hurts to get up. My leg went to sleep the other day while building a marble maze with my ten-year old. It took two shots of espresso to wake it up. I ended up walking in circles for hours.
I wanted to name my first born "Invention" but my wife, Necessity, wouldn't abide, she claimed the name was cliché. I love her to death, but I'm not sure I necessarily need Necessity's allegories. So, I said so, in so many words, and found out that I do so... necessarily.
But enough about me...

I submit more music... if you failed to click on the link I posted a couple of weeks ago for The Be Good Tanyas, you are in luck... it's smooth, it's creamy, it's Oootischenia and ever so Canadian...

Munk's opening line:
Sneezy hated Groucho's visits; his cigars made him cough.

Munk's "Opening Line" is yours to keep, use it. Munk

Nutcracker Epitome

For the unfamiliar, this week I submit a gem: The Pogues "Fairytale of New York". Often covered, never matched, this studio version from 1987 feature's Shane MacGowan's gravel-hammer voice in a restrained duet with Kirsty MacColl. For her part, Kirsty's precise and sturdy vocal's weave effortlessly through Shane's powerful turn. Two of the best at their best.

The epitome of the Christmas ballad.

Munk's opening line,

Bathed in red light, tiny Vampire Elvis loosened his cape and topped off his lungs with air. 

Munk's "Opening Line" is yours to keep, use it. Munk

PS... did you notice Matt Dillon at the beginning of the vid?

My Ten-Year-Old's Gorilla

An auto-feed paper towel dispenser ignored me this morning. Either my pre-coffee, matte-finish expression was insufficient in reflecting a requisite number of photons or the machine simply gave me the brush-off. Perhaps I appeared untrustworthy or undeserving or both. Whatever the reason, the oh-so important wipey-box would not relinquish its water absorbent booty.

So I danced. As embarrassing as it sounds I waved my hands, smiled expectantly, and pleaded audibly with the stingy machine—all to no avail.

With an air of contempt, I wiped my hands on my pants and departed, leaving the auto-dispenser to stew in its own self importance. Technology is so overrated. 

For Munk's opening line, we have a vote this week... which book would you read?

We drank to the tears of our slain enemies.


or....
We drank the tears of our slain enemies.


or... (this is a late entry offered by my 10 year old).
A deep rumbling sound emanated from the dark cavern. A split second later a giant gorilla burst through the wall.

Munk's (and now Jensen's) "Opening Lines" are yours to keep, use them. Munk

Prodding Your Muse with Head Cheese

“America on Horseback”… Charlie Pickett (click on A. on Horseback)

Social Medionics and Viral Qualifiers

So, okay, a little rant about social media.

I’ll admit I’m a noob, but STFU. I think social media enables soft language which in turn fosters weak opinions. Have any other bloggers, facebookers, or tweeters noticed the overabundance of qualifiers (grin). IMHO, written opinions should be delivered with little humility. I mean—mean what you say and say what you mean (just saying). 

If you're wit me, give a WOOT, whatever that is. Or maybe scream “RAWK!” Isn’t this new spelling sensation ka-RAY-zee as well!? Luv it (Squee!). Further, I find it annoying to have to be alerted when someone is attempting humor (LOL!). If it ain't funny, don't type it (LMAO!). 

Okay, so really, I mean like, totally no offense peeps *hugs*.  Sarcasm aside, I think we can do better (ROTFL). If anyone reads this, plz let me know, k?, c u.

Munk's opening line...

I went out to find myself yesterday and wound up buying a waffle iron (WTF?).

Munk's "Opening Line" is yours to keep, use it. Munk

Blogus Speedonus Dystopius

Welcome to Dystopia, population everyone. Where no one makes sense except for Protag and his trusty sidekick, Sidekick. Enjoy a lovely dinner of crow and perhaps a side of Sidekick. You can wash it all down with a cold bowl of administroni soup. Just like Mom used to make.

Love, Munk

This week's dystopian opening line,
If today’s satisfaction quotient is Purple, why did I just dodge my third falling smile?

Munk's "Opening Line" is yours to keep, use it. Munk

The Good, the Bad, The Weird: a Blipview

Keeping with the meandering nature of this blogadoo. Today, I offer a nano movie review (a blipview).  Anyone who remembers Max Headroom should get the reference.
I am one who avoids reviews with synopses, so no worries, if you haven't seen the film, but plan to, I doubt my blipview will give anything away. I have been impressed by the risks taken lately by Asian cinema...

If you liked Stephen Chow's Kung Fu Hustle, then The Good, the Bad, The Weird by Kim Ji-woon is for you.

Three plates of double chocolate cinematic fudge.

Big screen and 5.1 surround: HIGHLY recommended.

Note: probably not a film for horse lovers or people who don’t enjoy watching other people in painfully painful--pain.

Bang, you’re dead.

This week's opening line...
I was twenty-three before I discovered the French were dead wrong about kissing.
Munk's "Opening Line" is yours to keep, use it. Munk

Rules, Rules, Rules

Cut words to make more sense. Drop adverbs for purity. Stop telling, start showing. Put an inciting incident in the first chapter. Know each of the character’s agendas. Use dialogue to drive the story. Find a unique voice. Write an outline. Don’t repeat words. Remove small talk. Stay tight (one of my favorites by the way). Use similes. Watch your tents (this one confuses me). Pace, find balance. Don’t change your POV mid-paragraph. Eye before EEE. Don’t fragment. Use a legible 12-pt font, headers on each page and DOUBLE SPACE… know your rules dammit...........and then break a few.

Who has a rule they would like to share?

This week's opening line...

From what Jurgen could tell, the barn dance was going well.

Munk's "Opening Line" is yours to keep, use it. Munk

Sensory Underload

Have you ever looked over the edge, just to give yourself a thrill? Have you ever thought what it might be like to freefall without a parachute? Terminal velocity must feel a lot like the weightlessness of outer space—but a whole lot louder. I think the wind would sort of mess up the experience for me. I don’t enjoy traveling, at speed, in the backseat of convertibles. The thought of it, the notion of skimming along at 70mph with the top down is engaging enough, but the reality is shaken by the wind. Pushing aside the atmosphere at that velocity generates a great deal of turmoil. Nitrogen, oxygen and argon molecules racing against my eyes, slamming my hair against my scalp and coursing through my ears is fatiguing. The only relief is to stop. And even then, a sort of sensory underload persists, like a hangover buzzing in my ears and dulling my existence…  Hmmmm… coming full circle, I’ve just realized that I began this notion with a terminal velocity freefall. What would the stop at the end of that trip feel like?

Munk’s opening lime,

It was said that everything in Citruscine smelled of pine and tasted of pepper—Lyman just had to visit.

Munk

Munk's "Opening Line" is yours to keep, use it. Munk

Munk Manners

Last week I was bequeathed a blog award by the lovely Doctor Kang. As such, I am compelled to bestow a bequeathing of thine own.  It is called the “Backatcha” and it is just like it sounds; a wimpy response to a truly pay-it-forward effort. It is also one of the riskier awards in the blogashpere, because it involves my entering the recipient’s name in my “Opening Line”.  So, if you do not want to see your name show up in my opening line, best not be bequeathing Munk for any awards.  Keep in mind I like to keep the opening line interesting, and I therefore take expansive liberties. After all, what is an opening line if not provocative? 

Without further ado… Munk’s Backatcha award for June… Backatcha Lydia.

The discovery of the cadaver’s additional orifice came as no surprise to Coroner Kang, but what was that parked inside – a key?

Munk's "Opening Line" is yours to keep, use it. Munk

Booker Obtuse

Travel far enough away from the Earth’s surface and the truth about its rugged terrain is revealed. Our planet is a near perfect sphere and is as smooth as polished stone. At odds with the endless vacuum of space we humans cling tenuously to the Earth's fragile crust; spinning away our days sandwiched between a sea of molten rock and an impossibly thin film of atmospheric perfection. 

For us to survive, it all has to work. The ice, the rain, the steam, omnivores, herbivores, carnivores, hosts, parasites, predators and prey – symbiosis is real – and all living things adapt. We adapt, or evolve, to survive. It has been said that evolution, based on chance, is too slow.  These voices claim that our mere presence on Earth proves the existence of a guiding force which compels living things toward higher and higher levels of physical order. Were this force to be concentrated in any single life form, even a simple one, we might all be doomed.

It is comforting to know that as living things evolve, so do heroes.

Munk's opening line:
With the stationary bike peloton raging, Guthrie decided to make his move.

Munk's "Opening Line" is yours to keep, use it. Munk

Trashy Souls and Talking Roses

When I was 6 or 93,

I met a rose that said to me,

Don’t turn around lest you shall see,

A monster that will never be.

I took that flower’s dreadful dare,

And spun to lock the beast in stare,

But the rose’s honor had been fair,

When I swung to look, found nothing there.

Munk's opening line:

For the third time in a week, careless Freddie found the shiny part of her soul in the trash bin. 

Munk's "Opening Line" is yours to keep, use it. Munk

Monkeys Can’t Fly

Monkey’s can’t fly and neither can you (at least with your arms using feathers and glue)

But don’ t be down trodden, don’t sink into blue, so much that you are, and so much that you do,

is bounded by precept and not really true.