"Bid my blood to run, before I come undone, save me from the nothing I've become ..."
     -- Evanescence, "Bring Me To Life"

4/7/03: 2:45 AM: "Fortune passes everywhere."

One can never predict the flickerings of arcana that will entomb themselves in consciousness, becoming the fabric of conscious thought. I'm dead certain that when Frank Herbert penned those words, he wasn't thinking that a bitter Black man would hear them, echoing in his shaven head, sitting on the crest of the 21st century.

I've kept myself so busy doing other things that I haven't done a "personal" rant in some time. No time like the present.

WRITING: I have never been so productive as a writer in my entire life. Two weeks ago, I dropped a proposal in the mail to DC Comics, regarding a Detective Comics backup story, one I'd discussed with a senior DC editor last year at Comicon. A week prior to that, I mailed off my application to the Callaloo writing workshop in Texas. Two weeks prior to that, I mailed off an application to the prestigious Cave Canem writing workshop, and that same week delivered my first comic book proposal to Image Comics via my dear friend Eric.

I have five pages pencilled and inked by Allen Gladfelter on my Operative project (super top secret, heh, but I do hope to have character sketches online soon), I've dived headfirst into a new self-published project with R/Kain Blaze of Freestyle Megazine (one I'm having so much fun with it's almost criminal). I'm ahead on The Crown, and I've got tons of other things in the queue for when I finally finish that, probably in May. Oh, and just for fun, I'm keeping my hand in with poetry, penning tributes to both my dear friend Imani Tolliver and my pal the Marine, D'nasha. In terms of my art, I'm working quite well, making incremental progress on everything, and my font of ideas keeps bubbling over (I had a new limited concept just today about ... ah, I'll tell you later).

Best of all, I'm learning to accept that new philosophy of work, "incremental progress on all things." I work a little on everything until it gets done, and then give its slot to something else. It's a lot more relaxing mentally, and I don't berate myself as much.

PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS: There are people I've known for more than a decade, people I'll probably know forever. We don't hang as much as we used to, but it doesn't affect our closeness. Then there's people I like but who are, essentially new. Ones I met doing karaoke or journalism. Some I value, some not so much.

I haven't been terribly keen on doing the maintenance on any of those relationships. I'm at a point in my life where I want people to seek my company, to reach out for it when it's not there, as I have done. Weeks can go by and I won't speak to somebody -- not out of malice or antagonism, but out of indifference. Working at home has made me much more of a hermit, and that has caused some personal relationships to suffer. Most days I don't care at all. I'm becoming much more of a recluse in my old age -- "born alone, die alone," I figger, and since I really feel rather isolated and lonely most of the time anyway -- more on that in a bit -- why not let it dominate the energy? Sure makes me more productive as a writer.

MUSIC: I don't know who dreamed up Streamripper, but I know the mention of their name must keep Hillary Rosen up at night (and yes, I know she'll be done as RIAA head this year, she'll still be reviled as long as I live). Internet radio stations broadcast, including song title, album name, artist name, and so on. Stream ripper takes each song, records it as a high quality MP3, tags it appropriately, and saves it to your hard drive. Glorious. Admittedly, so far I'm stuck with iTunes radio stations, many of which seem to play the same twenty songs every few hours (wow, just like real radio!) and some of which won't play at all (thank you KCRW, you bastards), but it's still a great first step. Let me start looking around and finding some really good web radio stations. Oooooh, it'll be on and crackin' in no time.

Plus I'm discovering all kinds of cool music these days. In addition to bumping the second half of the current Craig David record (the first few songs are hideously overproduced, in my mind), I'm so into ersatz Christian rock group Evanescence's "Bring Me To Life," which is funny in at least twelve ways. Jann Arden's "Insensitive" I learned thanks to a karaoke rendition by Mandy (pictured here ... honest, she's Latina!) and its been a regular play on the iPod. Of course I'm still bumping Nas' "Made You Look" (he's having a regular renaissance with this an "I Can" moving the airwaves ... funny thing is, "I Can" would never play from a new artist, only now that he's "Nas" would anybody listen to it, despite the Alexander the Great/Napoleon mixup) and "All The Things She Said" by (I love saying this sequence of words) Russian teenaged lesbian pop stars TATU (watching them French on Kilborn was a high point of American television), still regularly playing "Overkill" by Colin Hay. Maroon 5 has a funky sound I'm enjoying a lot (another Kilborn discovery), and no fewer than seven of their songs grace the iPod ISD Manifest (all my hard drives that aren't full fledged computers are named as though they were Imperial Star Destroyers ... yah, I'm a Star Wars geek, oh well). Angie Martinez' very hot "If I Could Go" is a new favorite, as is 702's "I Still Love You." Now, very little of this is amazing music from a technical standpoint, most of it's just pop that I'll forget sooner or later. Still, there's a lot of it and it's fun to have so much in one sitting.

LOVE LIFE: Have you ever wanted someone so badly that it made you crazy? Have you ever had that person not want you the same way? I've been wrestling with a drama like that for a while. Unrequited passion can easily turn to anger, and I'm kind of there now. Bad blood is hard to overcome, especially when it feels like only one side is trying. Despite knowing tons of people, and talking -- via phone, email and so on -- to at least twelve people a day, to quote Tracy Chapman, "mostly I feel lonely." I told a story about Tom Green a while ago, and it's kind of boomerang-ed through the ol' canoodle of late. Truth be told, I have a call in to a therapist, and I'll see about ways I can work through that. I want to say more, but that may not be legally adviseable now. Ask Tara, for all those that know her.

TELEVISION: Scrubs has to be about the best written sitcom on TV these days. John C. McGinley alone, with his deeply textured characterization of Dr. Perry Cox, makes the show a treasure, but the growth of the lead character JD, the really sweet relationship between Carla and Turk, the always fun contributions by supporing cast members like the Janitor, Laverne, that nebbishy lawyer ... man, what a show. Not since Newsradio has an ensemble TV show accomplished so much, and it took them longer to get into this kind of rhythm. Wow.

That said, The Practice is back, with an amazing interplay between Bobby and Lindsey, always strong acting from Eleanor and Eugene, and surprise turns from that goofy girl from Girls Club (I think, now that Kelley's back to two shows, the "serious" one and the "goofy" one, he's doing better), it's amazing to watch.

Of course, still loving 24 (even Kim is less stupid this year), Alias (can that show go wrong?), Law & Order: Criminal Intent (D'onofrio as Bobby Goren is amazing, he's a scientist!), Boomtown (the David McNorris character, who I insist on calling "The Iceman" is as textured as Dr. Cox, but more tragic), The West Wing (Joshua Malina may actually be better playing that position than Rob Lowe was ... oh, did Sam win that election, or what?) and ... as guilty as I am about saying this, given all the crap I've talked about Bill Bellamy over the years, Fastlane is really fun.

Now, if we could get Smallville on a regular schedule, make Ed more interesting, and maybe nuke a few reality shows, we'd really have something.

Generally, I'm just trying to make it through life, irritated by zits (I'm 30 freakin' years old, what's up with that? I mean, a zit on my shoulder, a zit in my freakin' ear, what is this, prom night?).

A close friend has prostate cancer and, when discussing his upcoming surgery, said "no heroics" if things go badly while he's under the knife. I can dig that. I like walking and seeing and doing. I don't know that I'd want to live if I wasn't able to function to my personal standards. I wouldn't want my nieces or any theoretical future Tabus to remember a decrepit, weak and doddering Hannibal. Either they know high-octane, no-punches-pulled Hannibal ... or they read up about him. The idea of being an invalid scares me, and since very little scares me, that's not a good feeling to have.

Notes from the edge of somewhere ...