Butchering A Pandemic: Prose Physiotherapy
by, May 23rd, 2012 at 05:10 AM (618 Views)
Well, this isnít exactly May 16^th. If youíre following this blog at all, youíll have noted its irregularity, a long time ago. I apologize for that. I had been planning to do something to be released the day I went into hospital, butÖ shit happens. You'll also be likely to take note that this is a much shorter entry than the previous ones. Well, it's 5:00 AM and I'm battling insomnia, writing episode recaps for the wiki, popping pills and trying not to snack. You get what you get. Anyway, letís jump in our trusty old "Way Back Machine" and pay a visit to Osiris on the morning of May 15 to find out what went wrong, why you're reading this, and what, if anything, it has to do with We're Alive.
Sidebar: If I really did have a time machine, I would go back to the first sunrise over the Fraser Valley that ever was, sit down, blast a fat cannon, and listen to Led Zeppelin's When The Levee Breaks, which is possibly, one of the most amazing songs ever recorded to listen to when you're trippin' balls.
P.S.A. Kids, don't do what Uncle Osi does. Drugs are bad. They don't make you cooler, funnier, or bad-ass. They make you stupid, uncool, and a big loser. They can destroy your life in ways you couldn't possibly imagine.
Tuesday, 15 May, 2012, 5:32 AM
Iím still awake, unable to sleep all night. While Iím not consciously aware of it, Iím guessing that part of me is starting to get nervous about the surgery Iím book for on Wednesday morning. I decided that I should stop tossing and turning in bed and just give it, get up, and go get a cup of a coffee. Itís a beautiful morning and the sun is warm and bright already, so I decide to take a walk, listen to some music, and enjoy the last bit of sun that Iíll be able to for at least a week. Apparently, Iím going to be bed-ridden for somewhere close to four days within the next thirty hours. One thing that I love is a brisk walk first thing in the morning, and tired or not, this morning would be no exception. It was quiet as far as foot traffic goes, but there were the usual suspects out on the road, on their way to work. I had taken a few pills about a half an hour before getting out of bed for the last time, and they were slowly working their way into my system, leaving me with the slightly drunk feeling that I had become quite familiar with over the last few weeks.
Oh, Percocet. Youíve treated me so well, but Iíll be glad when youíre gone.
As I walked, soaking up the warmth of that glorious ball of fire in the sky, I listened to a mix of Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Metric, and Timber Timbre. I let my mind wander off on its own, not terribly concerned where it was headed when something hit me. I love the movie Clue.
Clue was a terrible movie from the mid-1980s that is based on the Parker Bros. (now HASBRO) game of the same name. Itís the story of six strangers that gather together in a secluded New England mansion for a dinner party that quickly spirals out of control when it is revealed that they have been gathered together to confront the person who has been blackmailing each of them. Itís a great concept, set in the mid-1950s, with a funny cast, and some half decent performances. No, this isnít a movie review; Iím just setting the stage here. Clue was the first movie to employ alternate endings that I had ever seenóthe film was released into theaters and each theater was given all three endings that they would then run randomly from day to dayóand it completely captured my imagination. Iím not sure why, but I like to think it was the idea that there was a different ending for all of the movies I had seen through my past. A different ending for Star Wars, or Tron, or The Black Hole? Mind blown. The prospect that I was missing something stuck with me for years. A burning desire to know that was finally sated by the advent of DVD, thus opening a whole new world to explore. Clue was the movie that made me consider that there was another possibility.
Now, as weíre all aware, Weíre Alive hasnít ended yet, so there isnít an alternate ending for us to ponder. There is, however, a beginning. It was around the time that I passed by a gas station, stopped in to grab a can of Red Bull and a pack of Benson & Hedges BlackóP.S.A. Please donít smoke, kidsÖ itís a bad, disgusting habit that will kill youóand was circling back around toward home, that I had the thought:
What were their lives like before the outbreak? And with that, Alternate Beginnings was born.
I considered my favourite characterís origin storyóat least, my version of their origin storiesóas I strolled down the sidewalk, with a casual gait that belied my aching urgency to write. I decided that I would write a series of standalone, short stories that would follow my favourite characters through a random point in their past. As I walked, puffed, and sipped, I started writing my ode to Angel: One Night, In Santa Monica, in my head. It took me about fifteen minutes to get back in front of the keyboard and start hammering away. Within an hour, the story was finishedóand it shows. I used the little project as a way to explore a new style, tackling a perspective that Iím not entirely comfortable with in order to stretch myself as a writer. Iím certain that some of the stories will fail miserably, some will be roundly hated, and maybe, just maybe, one or two may be well-receivedódare I dreamómaybe even loved.
No, I wonít be posting them here. Youíll find them in the Fan Fiction section, alongside some other entertaining stories written by other boardies. Enjoy them, hate them, or feel no emotion toward them at all. Once again, I extend an apology to Kc for butchering the collective histories for his characters that he has, no doubt already created, but I've had a blast writing them.
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