So, 4 interviews, 1 writing test, 2 character references and one week's First-Refusal-Rights later, will I end up with a job?
This company is nearly impossible to satisfy. Really, there's no knowing that I'm the right or wrong candidate for the job until I do it.
I feel like I'm starting all over from scratch again.
Which I am.
"I must lie down where all ladders start,
/ In the foul rag-and-bones shop of the heart."
Meanwhile, I've got 3 other interviews with companies that might or might not hire me.
Go... me.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Simone The Spider.
I've got an interview in about an hour, so I have like 20 minutes to do this.
Let's do it. *cracks knuckles*
First off, I've upgraded my cranks. Nope, couldn't wait for a job to get XTR 951 like I want to. Instead, these beauties were given to me from David, and were heavily oxidised to begin with. But I polished them up back to nearly presentable condition, slapped them on, and we're in business.
They do flex a little though. Or that could be my cassette showing signs of wear.
Also, as a budding mechanical engineer, I've innovated. I took an expired mount screw from a front light, and put it on my rear light so I won't need a screwdriver to put the light on anymore. Go me. I am so awesome.
In other news, I saw this GINORMOUS spider while cycling up Ulu Pandan Road. Or whatever that road is. I felt like that guy who died. Whashisname.
Yea. Steve Irwin.
It was seriously spooky to photograph this spider. I named her Simone.
In the same vein... photos of cats.
They don't all have names. I don't really have THAT much free time.
And here's a leaf that my Dad is growing.
Yuh, he is growing a leaf.
We are so weird.
Oh lookit the sky.
I have to run now. Ciao.
Let's do it. *cracks knuckles*
First off, I've upgraded my cranks. Nope, couldn't wait for a job to get XTR 951 like I want to. Instead, these beauties were given to me from David, and were heavily oxidised to begin with. But I polished them up back to nearly presentable condition, slapped them on, and we're in business.
They do flex a little though. Or that could be my cassette showing signs of wear.
Also, as a budding mechanical engineer, I've innovated. I took an expired mount screw from a front light, and put it on my rear light so I won't need a screwdriver to put the light on anymore. Go me. I am so awesome.
In other news, I saw this GINORMOUS spider while cycling up Ulu Pandan Road. Or whatever that road is. I felt like that guy who died. Whashisname.
Yea. Steve Irwin.
It was seriously spooky to photograph this spider. I named her Simone.
In the same vein... photos of cats.
They don't all have names. I don't really have THAT much free time.
And here's a leaf that my Dad is growing.
Yuh, he is growing a leaf.
We are so weird.
Oh lookit the sky.
I have to run now. Ciao.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
I'm Siansational
Again, props to Cath for coming up with a delightful neologism like that. It's simply sexceptional.
It's the new year, and 1 week before that, I've already started withdrawing karma to make this year good. As a result of karmic flux, I have already broken:
1. My keyboard. Good thing I have 3 spares!
2. My monitor. The pincushion is out of alignment. Permanently.
3. My video-out on my computer's video editing card. It's a goner.
4. My left side of my cycling earbuds. Some water got into it when I was washing it.
5. My DVD player. It doesn't play DVDs anymore. But CDs and VCDs are fine. Go figure.
6. My kitchen fan. Just decided to stop turning for no reason.
7. My kitchen tap. Apparently I turned it off 'too tight'.
8. My rear-derailleur cable. Snapped in two while I was still riding home in Bt Hills. Here's a pic of the broken cable and the Stang in the shop getting a new cable.
9. A power supply on a 2nd-hand organ I was testing blew (I think.)
10. On Xmas day, I get a bloody flat. Lucky I have my handy pump and instant patches (TM).
So ... why so much karmic flux?
I'm feeling remarkably hopeful.
I am willing it so.
Something odd happened on New Year's Eve. I was trying to make it to 7000 kilometers on my odometer. I reached home after about 2 hours out but turned out, I was 6 km short. So I resolved to ride on till I hit 7k and retire for the year.
It was the last ride of the year. I took a loop up Clementi and West Coast, round Kent Ridge, and stopped when I hit exactly 7000km.
Turns out, my tripmeter for the night was 70.0, and I had hit 7000km at exactly 11:17pm on the clock.
70, 7000, 11:17 for 2007.
Go me!
In other news, my novel is going along quite well. I'm now into Chapter 5 of what is going to be some 30 to 40 chapters. So, still some way to go, but it's going to get done. I have shifted the typewriter to beside my bed, and rigged the writing light there to boot. So it's never far from my mind. And now that I don't have the internet there's not much to do late at night other than to read and write anyway.
On new year's day, I cleaned out my desks, vacuumed and mopped the floor, ironed my shirts and pants, and organised my socks (here's a sock army, plus some lonely sock orphans).
And gave my bike a new wash.
Now, to infinity, and beyond! And may my book be released to bookstores before Christmas '07!
It's the new year, and 1 week before that, I've already started withdrawing karma to make this year good. As a result of karmic flux, I have already broken:
1. My keyboard. Good thing I have 3 spares!
2. My monitor. The pincushion is out of alignment. Permanently.
3. My video-out on my computer's video editing card. It's a goner.
4. My left side of my cycling earbuds. Some water got into it when I was washing it.
5. My DVD player. It doesn't play DVDs anymore. But CDs and VCDs are fine. Go figure.
6. My kitchen fan. Just decided to stop turning for no reason.
7. My kitchen tap. Apparently I turned it off 'too tight'.
8. My rear-derailleur cable. Snapped in two while I was still riding home in Bt Hills. Here's a pic of the broken cable and the Stang in the shop getting a new cable.
9. A power supply on a 2nd-hand organ I was testing blew (I think.)
10. On Xmas day, I get a bloody flat. Lucky I have my handy pump and instant patches (TM).
So ... why so much karmic flux?
I'm feeling remarkably hopeful.
I am willing it so.
Something odd happened on New Year's Eve. I was trying to make it to 7000 kilometers on my odometer. I reached home after about 2 hours out but turned out, I was 6 km short. So I resolved to ride on till I hit 7k and retire for the year.
It was the last ride of the year. I took a loop up Clementi and West Coast, round Kent Ridge, and stopped when I hit exactly 7000km.
Turns out, my tripmeter for the night was 70.0, and I had hit 7000km at exactly 11:17pm on the clock.
70, 7000, 11:17 for 2007.
Go me!
In other news, my novel is going along quite well. I'm now into Chapter 5 of what is going to be some 30 to 40 chapters. So, still some way to go, but it's going to get done. I have shifted the typewriter to beside my bed, and rigged the writing light there to boot. So it's never far from my mind. And now that I don't have the internet there's not much to do late at night other than to read and write anyway.
On new year's day, I cleaned out my desks, vacuumed and mopped the floor, ironed my shirts and pants, and organised my socks (here's a sock army, plus some lonely sock orphans).
And gave my bike a new wash.
Now, to infinity, and beyond! And may my book be released to bookstores before Christmas '07!
Saturday, December 23, 2006
MFA in Fiction or BUST
Chuck Palahniuk inspires me at almost every level.
Now that I'm working towards becoming a full-time fiction writer, I've been doing some research on where I might get a Masters of Fine Arts in Fiction.
There's a list of stories and non-fiction titles that I know will sell in the market.
This list keeps growing.
And I have thermonuclear diarrhea.
I'm like a SSTAR (Small, Sealed, Transportable, Autonomous Reactor).
I came up with my own acronym, SSUN. (Small, Sealed, aUtonomous FissioN).
What is it with me and atomic physics?
That's all, I guess, for 2006. I fell in love (or in lust?), got fired, started my first novel, met an old flame, put the past behind me, and got rip-roaringly blitzed, sloshed, smashed, inebriated, stoned, high, intoxicated, buzzed, sparrowed, shitfaced, FUBAR'd, plastered, hammered, and every other kind of fucking word you'd use for drinking way way WAY too much.
Ok time's up.
Have a Merry Christmas. And here's to 2007.
Now that I'm working towards becoming a full-time fiction writer, I've been doing some research on where I might get a Masters of Fine Arts in Fiction.
There's a list of stories and non-fiction titles that I know will sell in the market.
This list keeps growing.
And I have thermonuclear diarrhea.
I'm like a SSTAR (Small, Sealed, Transportable, Autonomous Reactor).
I came up with my own acronym, SSUN. (Small, Sealed, aUtonomous FissioN).
What is it with me and atomic physics?
That's all, I guess, for 2006. I fell in love (or in lust?), got fired, started my first novel, met an old flame, put the past behind me, and got rip-roaringly blitzed, sloshed, smashed, inebriated, stoned, high, intoxicated, buzzed, sparrowed, shitfaced, FUBAR'd, plastered, hammered, and every other kind of fucking word you'd use for drinking way way WAY too much.
Ok time's up.
Have a Merry Christmas. And here's to 2007.
Money Talks. Bullshit Walks.
Chuck Palahniuk on Oprah's diaphragm
C. P. Farley, Powells.com
Chuck Palahniuk's immoderate satires elicit much the same reaction as a Dead Baby joke: readers aren't quite sure if it's okay to laugh. This may help explain Palahniuk's initial problems finding a publisher.
As the story goes, when Palahniuk sent his first manuscript to New York, a number of editors personally loved the book but were nevertheless too timid to admit it. They worried that they alone were demented enough to enjoy a book in which Thanksgiving dinner includes a graphic description of felching. The book, Invisible Monsters, was unanimously turned down.
But instead of turning to more "marketable" material, Palahniuk decided to screw New York and write an even more outrageous book. The story he came up with centered around a club where men come together to beat one another senseless. Fight Club's blend of extreme violence, black comedy and passionate ideas was like nothing anyone had ever read before. When Marla waxed romantic to Tyler by telling him, "I want to have your abortion," readers knew they had entered virgin terrain.
Finally, W. W. Norton recognized an opportunity. When in 1995 they agreed to publish Fight Club, one of the most original and exciting literary careers of recent memory was born. After the exceptional David Fincher movie, which made the term "Fight Club" part of the vernacular, Palahniuk was able to quit his day job and begin writing full time. In the next three years he published two more "maniacally comic" novels, Survivor and Invisible Monsters (apparently now safe to print), which cemented his reputation as "a master of depicting the dark and depraved underbelly of our society through the voices of mordantly existential protagonists."
Palahniuk's new novel, Choke, does for sex what Fight Club did for violence. It tells the story of Victor Mancini, a recovering sex-addict whose resolve to overcome his illness is less than convincing. In fact, he continues to attend his recovery meetings only because they are such a great place to pick up chicks. Meanwhile, Victor scams a little extra cash by going to restaurants and pretending to choke on his food until someone performs the Heimlich maneuver. For when someone saves your life, they tend to feel compelled to help you again, hopefully in the form of cash checks.
Where he comes up with this stuff is anyone's guess. But by now, who cares. Palahniuk's readers are hooked on his unique blend of wicked wit and carpe diem outrage. And, after Choke debuted at number ten on the New York Times Bestseller list, no doubt his publishers are hooked on his marketability.
The following quotations were excerpted from a conversation between Chuck Palahniuk and C. P. Farley on July 5th, 2001.
"When I started writing, I said my goal was to bring people back to reading, people who had given up on reading. So I wrote for people who didn't read at that point. Today, you have to write books that can compete against video games and music videos and professional wrestling and all the other things people can do with their time. And those people want plot. People don't want stasis and description. They want the plot to move, they want lots of verbs. You know, verbs on top of verbs."
* * *
"When I was a kid I used to go to the library, and I would read all the Ellery Queen books, because with the Ellery Queen books they gave you all the clues. All the cards were on the table. It was an even playing field. And so when you could figure it out, it was a real victory. I loved reading them very slowly and then reasoning through them and trying to put together what we were given and why were we given that. What scenes stood out? What didn't fit? What were we shown on purpose because we had to be shown that thing? They were just great examples of revealing not too much but enough for people to get it if you wanted to get it. I loved those books."
* * *
"For a lot of the people who come to my readings, it's true that they don't read other books. Some people seem to think that's bad. So many guys come up to me at events and say, So is this what readings are always like? And I realize they've never been to a reading. They've never bought a hardcover book. Of course I shake their hand and say, Yes, readings are like this. Books are incredible. I don't want to ruin their first experience. I want them to come back to readings. I want them to buy other books. It's not about me being the center of the universe. It's about bringing people back to books, and showing them that books can be incredibly rewarding and entertaining and whatever. So yeah, these people read nothing else. But eventually they will. And maybe the reason they don't read other things is not their problem. Maybe it's just that there are a lot of sucky books out there. Not to say that my books are not sucky books."
* * *
"For me, plot is very important. Every chapter has to up the ante. Otherwise, why is it there? If no action is taking place within this section, what's going to increase the emotional and psychological tension. Maybe it's a lulling scene that's going to provide a contrast, that's going to give a very short, quiet episode before the huge breakdown and disaster. I'll do that occasionally, but just for contrast.
"It's like when Sigourney Weaver stripped down to her bra and panties, blew out the candle, and put out the cat before the final showdown with the alien. This scene was there to lull us - and, of course, sexually excite us. The music goes all soft, and then boom!, the alien's there. It's the oldest trick in the book.
"But anything that builds those skills, that gets people exercising that part of their mind, and makes them excited to be reading, makes them crave and look forward to it: I love that."
* * *
"I always think I deal with really typical things. Like I didn't invent the waiter-peeing-in-the-soup thing. I really invent so little of what I put in my fiction. But finding ways to make it real in the world, or reinventing it and make it seem real again, I think I do that really well. But as far as overall originality, there's just not a whole lot there."
* * *
"Humor is crucial. Otherwise, why bother? Without humor, my books would be like those tragic Oprah books. You know, everybody just weeping and looking tragic and...the end. Tragedy on top of tragedy is just overwhelming.
"In college, we read about a group of people who were shown photographs of dental decomposition in various stages. The people who were shown photographs of mild deterioration and mild tooth loss increased their dental care, their dental hygiene. But people who were shown severely deteriorated mouths, hideous photographs, those people just shut down entirely. They quit brushing their teeth and flossing altogether. It actually made them worse.
"That's why if you're going to portray sadness, if you're going to have enormous amounts of sad, dark material, it has to be presented in a funny way, or there has to be intermittent funny scenes to release that tension, to bring people back up, to contrast with the sadness so that it can occur again and again."
* * *
"At Book Expo my editor Gerry Howard got invited to a high tea at Oprah Winfrey's apartment. So I was really needling Gerry, trying to get him to bring back some sort of a sacred relic that we could sell on Ebay. I wanted him to go through her medicine cabinet, to look under her bed, pretend he'd lost a contact lens and get down on all fours, just look around and see what he could steal.
"Gerry wouldn't do it. He just totally gutted out. So while I was on tour, every time I was on the radio I told a story about how Gerry had stolen Oprah's diaphragm and put it on Ebay and we were both going to make a fortune and retire. I told that story in total seriousness in six major markets until finally I got this call from New York saying, Stop it! Don't tell that story any more. Cut it out.
"I was able to tell that story one more time in New York at a reading, but this time in the form of a public apology to Gerry, who was there. He laughed so hard that I knew that that night I could read all the filthy stuff."
* * *
"People seem very happy with Choke. Some people say it's my funniest book so far. But I got one guy at the Barnes and Noble Union Square event who stood up and basically read my beads, just said, When the fuck are you going to stop doing this 'identity crisis' thing, talking about identity as a central theme and move on...blah blah blah. It's been four books. You're still dealing with identity. We need you to give it up and really show us something new with your talent. And then he goes, Well, I think you're a great writer. I really love your work. And I'm kind of like, Okay, cut my balls off and then compliment me?
"I told him that I really wanted to completely explore the theme of identity. You know, not just dash it off and get rid of it, but explore it from every angle before I left it behind. But I think in a way he's right. And that's why my next book, Lullaby, is such a complete departure from identityitis. Identity plays no part at all in Lullaby. It's got entirely different themes.
"But a half dozen guys came up to me in line that night and very seriously said, You want me to take that guy out? I think he's still downstairs. You want me to take care of him for you? And they were totally serious. So I went, Yeah, would you?"
* * *
"I think that the central, most American literary theme is the invention of self. We see it in Henry James's Bostonians; we see it in The Great Gatsby; we see it in Breakfast at Tiffany's. People who move to the city from the country and reinvent themselves, or move to the frontier and reinvent themselves. It's the poor person becoming the rich person. You know, the nobody becoming the celebrity. It's such an American genre, this whole idea of reinventing and creating your self based on your dream, or how you perceive yourself to be, or not to be, whatever. And I've always seen that as the most American literary device or literary theme, so I really wanted to play with that.
"Maybe it's only at this point that I've become comfortable with who I am, so that theme no longer appeals to me. Plus, four books based on that! Fight Club is based on what you are not; Invisible Monsters was based on recreating yourself based on fashion and fantasy; Survivor was based on creating yourself in the face of immortality; and Choke was based on creating yourself out of a purpose, out of something that you stake your life on, that you commit to. So they're all about creating identity. But it's time to get past that."
* * *
"The books are always about taking a character from faux happiness and isolation back into community, into dysfunctional, unpleasant, chaotic, but ultimately more fulfilling community. Because the other American myth is that if we can just get away from one other, then we'll be happy. And so we want to be Howard Hughes in the penthouse, or we want to be William Randolph Hearst at San Simeon. We want to be on that desert island away from everyone, and then we'll be happy. And then we get to that isolated place where we're alone, and we're even more miserable than we ever were before. And so there's that constant pull between wanting to be with people, and wanting to be alone. And flip-flopping back and forth. You know, if you're married you want to be divorced. If you're divorced, you want to be married. We never want what we have at the moment we have it. And so the books are always about bringing people back into community, people who've achieved that isolation and now hate it.
"You know, five minutes after the lambs stop screaming in Silence of the Lambs, the lambs started screaming again. They never stopped screaming for, at the very most, five days, okay. Clarice had maybe a five-day window. But she woke up one day and those lambs were screaming louder than ever, and she realized that she was on a treadmill. For the rest of her life she was going to be shutting the lambs up. And every time she got them to shut up, they would shut up for shorter and shorter periods of time, until eventually Clarice Starling will kill herself. Or she will go on medication. You know, eventually the last book in that series will be called The Medicating of the Lambs, or The Prozac of the Lambs."
* * *
"It feels like that kind of a cycle never does end. Damn it. I think we're all doomed to reincarnation. People believe reincarnation's a good thing. But it feels like that hamster wheel to me. Who wants to be there for the final curtain, to be on stage for the plague/war/famine, whatever's going to happen. All those people who threw away their cigarette butts and killed all the birds? So boy, rotting in a box does not sound like such a bad thing at this point."
* * *
"As a child my father impressed upon me that if you are going to do stupid things you are going to have to pay the price. Once he actually threatened to chop off my finger with an axe for something I'd done. And at that moment it became incredibly clear to me that I am a cause in my own life, that I had to take responsibility for myself for the rest of my life, and not blame anyone for the things that I did. I was not going to blame anyone. If I wanted something to happen, I was going to make it happen. I was going to be the cause. You may forget those defining moments, but you still act out of those decisions. And I think that is one reason I've been very proactive in my life, because of that one afternoon, when it became really clear that I am responsible for me.
"A childhood is full of great defining stories, these moments in which you make enormous decisions about how the world is and how you will be in reaction to that world for the rest of your life. And you forget that you did that. You just become that reaction, but you can't remember why you became that. And remembering the moment when you made that decision and became that reaction is so freeing because you're like, Oh my God. Suddenly you have the choice of either being that thing that you've always chosen to be, or being something totally different that's not a reaction to the fact that no one showed up for your fifth birthday party. You're free from that tragedy of the past. You don't have to be a reaction to it for the rest of your life."
* * *
"I see hope as this rather pointless, amorphous emotion. Hope doesn't accomplish anything. Action accomplishes something. The idea that a possibility creates something... Sitting around hoping for something doesn't do much."
* * *
"When you think about what a small percentage of the people in this huge culture actually control things, it's staggering that more people aren't controlling their culture. It's only a tiny handful. And why is that? That's what breaks my heart. And I think young people, with the Internet and the availability of technology, are more and more able to get their stuff out. But then I worry whether by the time they have the technology we will have cut expressive courses in high school and college to the point that no one has the ability anymore to express themselves in an entertaining, balanced, or interesting way. Band and art and creative writing, or any of those things that we don't see as vocational, could actually be the most important courses, because they give kids a way of expressing themselves other than breaking things."
* * *
"The idea, Don't push the river, it flows. You could sit here all day and the river is not going to flow you where you want to go. And is it really pushing when you're doing something you love to do? Or is it just in a way surrendering yourself to that thing that you've always wanted to do? I don't see that as pushing the river. I see that as jumping in and letting the river sweep me along rather than clinging to the bank and not doing the thing that I'm dying to do."
* * *
"You know, all I've ever known are really obsessive passions, so it's hard for me to imagine people who don't have some sort of obsessive passion in their life, something that they have always dreamed of doing, whether or not they're doing it. I think that everyone's got an incredible passion, whether or not they admit it, or whether or not they're even aware of it anymore. Maybe they've just completely forgotten the fact that they wanted to do this thing when they were a child. Or they talked themselves out of ever doing that or being that. But I have to think that everyone's got that passion, and that much of our unhappiness and destructive behavior is based on not doing what we were created to do, for whatever reason."
* * *
"Oh, my God, sometimes I think I live my life more on the page than I do in the world anymore. And I get a little worried that I've reached the point where I can imagine things so clearly and so satisfactorily that I'll be disillusioned with everything in the physical world, because I can imagine things so much better. At that point I would be so dissatisfied with reality I would be nothing but Jabba the Hutt at my laptop and do nothing out in the world.
"You have to wonder when you see people like Stephen King, who I perceive as writing compulsively. And now, come to find out, he's taken drugs and drunk alcohol compulsively. If part of that isn't also this disillusionment with the physical world and the idea that this fantasy life on the page can be so much more exciting and fulfilling than real life can ever ever ever be... On the page you can do things that are impossible in the world, because the world is so regulated and structured anymore. On the page you can make those mistakes and have those adventures. I just get a little worried that I'll stop having those adventures in the world. And I won't even bother with the physical world because the fake world is so much nicer, so much more satisfying."
* * *
"Well, I suppose there isn't probably much difference between a sex addict and a writer. But when it's behavior that anesthetizes - come to think of it, writing anesthetizes, doesn't it? Okay, there's no difference whatsoever."
C. P. Farley, Powells.com
Chuck Palahniuk's immoderate satires elicit much the same reaction as a Dead Baby joke: readers aren't quite sure if it's okay to laugh. This may help explain Palahniuk's initial problems finding a publisher.
As the story goes, when Palahniuk sent his first manuscript to New York, a number of editors personally loved the book but were nevertheless too timid to admit it. They worried that they alone were demented enough to enjoy a book in which Thanksgiving dinner includes a graphic description of felching. The book, Invisible Monsters, was unanimously turned down.
But instead of turning to more "marketable" material, Palahniuk decided to screw New York and write an even more outrageous book. The story he came up with centered around a club where men come together to beat one another senseless. Fight Club's blend of extreme violence, black comedy and passionate ideas was like nothing anyone had ever read before. When Marla waxed romantic to Tyler by telling him, "I want to have your abortion," readers knew they had entered virgin terrain.
Finally, W. W. Norton recognized an opportunity. When in 1995 they agreed to publish Fight Club, one of the most original and exciting literary careers of recent memory was born. After the exceptional David Fincher movie, which made the term "Fight Club" part of the vernacular, Palahniuk was able to quit his day job and begin writing full time. In the next three years he published two more "maniacally comic" novels, Survivor and Invisible Monsters (apparently now safe to print), which cemented his reputation as "a master of depicting the dark and depraved underbelly of our society through the voices of mordantly existential protagonists."
Palahniuk's new novel, Choke, does for sex what Fight Club did for violence. It tells the story of Victor Mancini, a recovering sex-addict whose resolve to overcome his illness is less than convincing. In fact, he continues to attend his recovery meetings only because they are such a great place to pick up chicks. Meanwhile, Victor scams a little extra cash by going to restaurants and pretending to choke on his food until someone performs the Heimlich maneuver. For when someone saves your life, they tend to feel compelled to help you again, hopefully in the form of cash checks.
Where he comes up with this stuff is anyone's guess. But by now, who cares. Palahniuk's readers are hooked on his unique blend of wicked wit and carpe diem outrage. And, after Choke debuted at number ten on the New York Times Bestseller list, no doubt his publishers are hooked on his marketability.
The following quotations were excerpted from a conversation between Chuck Palahniuk and C. P. Farley on July 5th, 2001.
"When I started writing, I said my goal was to bring people back to reading, people who had given up on reading. So I wrote for people who didn't read at that point. Today, you have to write books that can compete against video games and music videos and professional wrestling and all the other things people can do with their time. And those people want plot. People don't want stasis and description. They want the plot to move, they want lots of verbs. You know, verbs on top of verbs."
* * *
"When I was a kid I used to go to the library, and I would read all the Ellery Queen books, because with the Ellery Queen books they gave you all the clues. All the cards were on the table. It was an even playing field. And so when you could figure it out, it was a real victory. I loved reading them very slowly and then reasoning through them and trying to put together what we were given and why were we given that. What scenes stood out? What didn't fit? What were we shown on purpose because we had to be shown that thing? They were just great examples of revealing not too much but enough for people to get it if you wanted to get it. I loved those books."
* * *
"For a lot of the people who come to my readings, it's true that they don't read other books. Some people seem to think that's bad. So many guys come up to me at events and say, So is this what readings are always like? And I realize they've never been to a reading. They've never bought a hardcover book. Of course I shake their hand and say, Yes, readings are like this. Books are incredible. I don't want to ruin their first experience. I want them to come back to readings. I want them to buy other books. It's not about me being the center of the universe. It's about bringing people back to books, and showing them that books can be incredibly rewarding and entertaining and whatever. So yeah, these people read nothing else. But eventually they will. And maybe the reason they don't read other things is not their problem. Maybe it's just that there are a lot of sucky books out there. Not to say that my books are not sucky books."
* * *
"For me, plot is very important. Every chapter has to up the ante. Otherwise, why is it there? If no action is taking place within this section, what's going to increase the emotional and psychological tension. Maybe it's a lulling scene that's going to provide a contrast, that's going to give a very short, quiet episode before the huge breakdown and disaster. I'll do that occasionally, but just for contrast.
"It's like when Sigourney Weaver stripped down to her bra and panties, blew out the candle, and put out the cat before the final showdown with the alien. This scene was there to lull us - and, of course, sexually excite us. The music goes all soft, and then boom!, the alien's there. It's the oldest trick in the book.
"But anything that builds those skills, that gets people exercising that part of their mind, and makes them excited to be reading, makes them crave and look forward to it: I love that."
* * *
"I always think I deal with really typical things. Like I didn't invent the waiter-peeing-in-the-soup thing. I really invent so little of what I put in my fiction. But finding ways to make it real in the world, or reinventing it and make it seem real again, I think I do that really well. But as far as overall originality, there's just not a whole lot there."
* * *
"Humor is crucial. Otherwise, why bother? Without humor, my books would be like those tragic Oprah books. You know, everybody just weeping and looking tragic and...the end. Tragedy on top of tragedy is just overwhelming.
"In college, we read about a group of people who were shown photographs of dental decomposition in various stages. The people who were shown photographs of mild deterioration and mild tooth loss increased their dental care, their dental hygiene. But people who were shown severely deteriorated mouths, hideous photographs, those people just shut down entirely. They quit brushing their teeth and flossing altogether. It actually made them worse.
"That's why if you're going to portray sadness, if you're going to have enormous amounts of sad, dark material, it has to be presented in a funny way, or there has to be intermittent funny scenes to release that tension, to bring people back up, to contrast with the sadness so that it can occur again and again."
* * *
"At Book Expo my editor Gerry Howard got invited to a high tea at Oprah Winfrey's apartment. So I was really needling Gerry, trying to get him to bring back some sort of a sacred relic that we could sell on Ebay. I wanted him to go through her medicine cabinet, to look under her bed, pretend he'd lost a contact lens and get down on all fours, just look around and see what he could steal.
"Gerry wouldn't do it. He just totally gutted out. So while I was on tour, every time I was on the radio I told a story about how Gerry had stolen Oprah's diaphragm and put it on Ebay and we were both going to make a fortune and retire. I told that story in total seriousness in six major markets until finally I got this call from New York saying, Stop it! Don't tell that story any more. Cut it out.
"I was able to tell that story one more time in New York at a reading, but this time in the form of a public apology to Gerry, who was there. He laughed so hard that I knew that that night I could read all the filthy stuff."
* * *
"People seem very happy with Choke. Some people say it's my funniest book so far. But I got one guy at the Barnes and Noble Union Square event who stood up and basically read my beads, just said, When the fuck are you going to stop doing this 'identity crisis' thing, talking about identity as a central theme and move on...blah blah blah. It's been four books. You're still dealing with identity. We need you to give it up and really show us something new with your talent. And then he goes, Well, I think you're a great writer. I really love your work. And I'm kind of like, Okay, cut my balls off and then compliment me?
"I told him that I really wanted to completely explore the theme of identity. You know, not just dash it off and get rid of it, but explore it from every angle before I left it behind. But I think in a way he's right. And that's why my next book, Lullaby, is such a complete departure from identityitis. Identity plays no part at all in Lullaby. It's got entirely different themes.
"But a half dozen guys came up to me in line that night and very seriously said, You want me to take that guy out? I think he's still downstairs. You want me to take care of him for you? And they were totally serious. So I went, Yeah, would you?"
* * *
"I think that the central, most American literary theme is the invention of self. We see it in Henry James's Bostonians; we see it in The Great Gatsby; we see it in Breakfast at Tiffany's. People who move to the city from the country and reinvent themselves, or move to the frontier and reinvent themselves. It's the poor person becoming the rich person. You know, the nobody becoming the celebrity. It's such an American genre, this whole idea of reinventing and creating your self based on your dream, or how you perceive yourself to be, or not to be, whatever. And I've always seen that as the most American literary device or literary theme, so I really wanted to play with that.
"Maybe it's only at this point that I've become comfortable with who I am, so that theme no longer appeals to me. Plus, four books based on that! Fight Club is based on what you are not; Invisible Monsters was based on recreating yourself based on fashion and fantasy; Survivor was based on creating yourself in the face of immortality; and Choke was based on creating yourself out of a purpose, out of something that you stake your life on, that you commit to. So they're all about creating identity. But it's time to get past that."
* * *
"The books are always about taking a character from faux happiness and isolation back into community, into dysfunctional, unpleasant, chaotic, but ultimately more fulfilling community. Because the other American myth is that if we can just get away from one other, then we'll be happy. And so we want to be Howard Hughes in the penthouse, or we want to be William Randolph Hearst at San Simeon. We want to be on that desert island away from everyone, and then we'll be happy. And then we get to that isolated place where we're alone, and we're even more miserable than we ever were before. And so there's that constant pull between wanting to be with people, and wanting to be alone. And flip-flopping back and forth. You know, if you're married you want to be divorced. If you're divorced, you want to be married. We never want what we have at the moment we have it. And so the books are always about bringing people back into community, people who've achieved that isolation and now hate it.
"You know, five minutes after the lambs stop screaming in Silence of the Lambs, the lambs started screaming again. They never stopped screaming for, at the very most, five days, okay. Clarice had maybe a five-day window. But she woke up one day and those lambs were screaming louder than ever, and she realized that she was on a treadmill. For the rest of her life she was going to be shutting the lambs up. And every time she got them to shut up, they would shut up for shorter and shorter periods of time, until eventually Clarice Starling will kill herself. Or she will go on medication. You know, eventually the last book in that series will be called The Medicating of the Lambs, or The Prozac of the Lambs."
* * *
"It feels like that kind of a cycle never does end. Damn it. I think we're all doomed to reincarnation. People believe reincarnation's a good thing. But it feels like that hamster wheel to me. Who wants to be there for the final curtain, to be on stage for the plague/war/famine, whatever's going to happen. All those people who threw away their cigarette butts and killed all the birds? So boy, rotting in a box does not sound like such a bad thing at this point."
* * *
"As a child my father impressed upon me that if you are going to do stupid things you are going to have to pay the price. Once he actually threatened to chop off my finger with an axe for something I'd done. And at that moment it became incredibly clear to me that I am a cause in my own life, that I had to take responsibility for myself for the rest of my life, and not blame anyone for the things that I did. I was not going to blame anyone. If I wanted something to happen, I was going to make it happen. I was going to be the cause. You may forget those defining moments, but you still act out of those decisions. And I think that is one reason I've been very proactive in my life, because of that one afternoon, when it became really clear that I am responsible for me.
"A childhood is full of great defining stories, these moments in which you make enormous decisions about how the world is and how you will be in reaction to that world for the rest of your life. And you forget that you did that. You just become that reaction, but you can't remember why you became that. And remembering the moment when you made that decision and became that reaction is so freeing because you're like, Oh my God. Suddenly you have the choice of either being that thing that you've always chosen to be, or being something totally different that's not a reaction to the fact that no one showed up for your fifth birthday party. You're free from that tragedy of the past. You don't have to be a reaction to it for the rest of your life."
* * *
"I see hope as this rather pointless, amorphous emotion. Hope doesn't accomplish anything. Action accomplishes something. The idea that a possibility creates something... Sitting around hoping for something doesn't do much."
* * *
"When you think about what a small percentage of the people in this huge culture actually control things, it's staggering that more people aren't controlling their culture. It's only a tiny handful. And why is that? That's what breaks my heart. And I think young people, with the Internet and the availability of technology, are more and more able to get their stuff out. But then I worry whether by the time they have the technology we will have cut expressive courses in high school and college to the point that no one has the ability anymore to express themselves in an entertaining, balanced, or interesting way. Band and art and creative writing, or any of those things that we don't see as vocational, could actually be the most important courses, because they give kids a way of expressing themselves other than breaking things."
* * *
"The idea, Don't push the river, it flows. You could sit here all day and the river is not going to flow you where you want to go. And is it really pushing when you're doing something you love to do? Or is it just in a way surrendering yourself to that thing that you've always wanted to do? I don't see that as pushing the river. I see that as jumping in and letting the river sweep me along rather than clinging to the bank and not doing the thing that I'm dying to do."
* * *
"You know, all I've ever known are really obsessive passions, so it's hard for me to imagine people who don't have some sort of obsessive passion in their life, something that they have always dreamed of doing, whether or not they're doing it. I think that everyone's got an incredible passion, whether or not they admit it, or whether or not they're even aware of it anymore. Maybe they've just completely forgotten the fact that they wanted to do this thing when they were a child. Or they talked themselves out of ever doing that or being that. But I have to think that everyone's got that passion, and that much of our unhappiness and destructive behavior is based on not doing what we were created to do, for whatever reason."
* * *
"Oh, my God, sometimes I think I live my life more on the page than I do in the world anymore. And I get a little worried that I've reached the point where I can imagine things so clearly and so satisfactorily that I'll be disillusioned with everything in the physical world, because I can imagine things so much better. At that point I would be so dissatisfied with reality I would be nothing but Jabba the Hutt at my laptop and do nothing out in the world.
"You have to wonder when you see people like Stephen King, who I perceive as writing compulsively. And now, come to find out, he's taken drugs and drunk alcohol compulsively. If part of that isn't also this disillusionment with the physical world and the idea that this fantasy life on the page can be so much more exciting and fulfilling than real life can ever ever ever be... On the page you can do things that are impossible in the world, because the world is so regulated and structured anymore. On the page you can make those mistakes and have those adventures. I just get a little worried that I'll stop having those adventures in the world. And I won't even bother with the physical world because the fake world is so much nicer, so much more satisfying."
* * *
"Well, I suppose there isn't probably much difference between a sex addict and a writer. But when it's behavior that anesthetizes - come to think of it, writing anesthetizes, doesn't it? Okay, there's no difference whatsoever."
Thursday, December 21, 2006
I Am Still ...
Ok, here's the thing. I didn't like the people who were reading this blog before, so I went postal and deleted the original address.
That and, I had a bit too much beer, and it was much too embaressing afterwards to apologise to eveyrone involved, so I just let it be.
It's been 3 months since I left my last job as a copywriter, and I still haven't gotten around to writing my CV or applying for a new job yet.
I did do a brief spell as a bookseller at a major bookstore but I left because ... well... I'm not too sure why I left.
Because I don't have a steady income, I now only get to log in for about an hour a day. That's where this blog comes in. Otherwise, I'm pretty much incontactable.
First, some updates. Bike Stuff.
I hit my target for this year on the 1st December. 6000 kilometers, bay-beh! Give me a kiss!
And as of yesterday, I'm closer to 7000km than 6000. Go me.
I also bought a new pump (the day after I got it, I got my first ever flat in the hills. Go figure.)
A new stem (to correct my overly aggressive riding position. Now my elbow feels a lot better, and the fork is better activated under load.) But I had to put on bar ends so that I can put my weight over the front when climbing steep inclines.
I also got a new seat and a crud-catcher mud guard.
My So-Called Life
What with all this free time and riding, my weight has really come down a bit. I've lost a whole Moose-stang in weight.
Now, I don't really know what I want to do with my life. But I'm getting an increasingly strong indication. I've been writing. My first novel.
This is where I write. Distraction-Central:
I even rigged up a cool-looking night light so that I can work in darkness.
And my uncle gave me his old scanner, so that I can scan whatever I've typed into the computer and edit it from there. What are the odds? The typewriter itself is also a hand-me down, from ages past. Read here for what I wrote about it in 1998.
It doesn't work well at all for scanning pictures, there's all sorts of nasty noise across the scanned image. But I got it to work just fine for Optical Character Recognition.
Results here. Compare it with the actual text.
“Trr . 6
a celebiaed artist, being cheered as he rode his envirwiit!1y— frieddl2 bicycle to work at his lavishly appointed artist’s studio, People rtiled and waved. Privers kiew kisses at him adoringly through their windshields and pressed their lips against tneir uindows as he rode past, while pedestrians tried to give hi cney as he rolled past them at the kerbside,
Traffic lights turned green before he had time to pull’ori the brakes, and buses careened wildly into adjacent lanes to give him a ide berth, ,hile motorcyclists ftahhed him the victory sian as they zoomed tast.
The tralfic police, too, had gotten wind of his aardwinning commute and shoed up now with a b—strong motorcade escort, and
arrived at his studio, he was greeted by the dozzle of flashing paparazzi, deafened by cooing spectators and immensely turned on by a troupe of sexy cheerleaders “ho annovnced his arrival with a cheer that ended with a pyramid formation.
pow. What was for lunch’
Ike’s actual studio was located atop hi father’s prcvi&ior store in the UDE heartlancls. A single studio—style apartment, there was an artist’s orktable basking in the light of the noontime sun. The sun slanted across his drawing hoard and split into Dainbows whereever they chanced unon {nkpot, still clayed over frorr orevic Outings.
Above the drawing board sat a lamp suspended artistical.L
sveral red threads hanging from the ceiling. Ike had put in sce effort into its construction so that the effect resernLlf! thst of a suspended bridge. Pinned to the lamp at iust bove ey—lewL weer the iords: Don’t Ever Give Up.
Ihe rest of the studio was eual1y spare. The single r6iim onened up to a small kitbhentte, where a light cornflower blue art—deco— style trid e hulked in one corner. A squece table accoutoured the fridge wit a small glass fiehhciwl on it, inside of whiC! wam a single, solitary guppie.
Tis was the starving artist’s aven. Nothing but work aid te to worry about.
L4
Ike had the cheeriness of one who rarely paused for thought, preferring to simply make it up as he went along. He carried alone with him, wherever he went, an aura that was so palpable, t had its own personality, often taking off by itself for lone wIk on the beach, visit art galleries, or stealing away to shate intimate smoking breaks with the wind.
In short, he was a dreamer, and in these times and ages, and especially in Singapore, times were hard for dreamers.
Lunch consisted of a simple peanut and butter sandwich.
And then it was back to the drawing beard for an afternoon of his real woi’z.
Lrawing ‘stories’. Job—hunting wasn’t easy, but he was Vin n with the practiced ease borne from being an old—hand at it rnean— while, he had bigger fish to fry.
4hI
I am betting that I'm just odd enough to survive, and just eccentric enough to become really really rich.
Yes, this is what I want to do for a living.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Back.
So.
You probably have me on MSN.
If you read my last post, you probably think you aren't the last persons I targetted my last post at.
Or, maybe not. You just have my blogspot address which I'm telecasting for just one day.
Guess I can't ask you who are you.
Not yet.
You probably have me on MSN.
If you read my last post, you probably think you aren't the last persons I targetted my last post at.
Or, maybe not. You just have my blogspot address which I'm telecasting for just one day.
Guess I can't ask you who are you.
Not yet.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Leaving Las Vegas
I know who reads my blog and who doesn't.
For those who read it and know me in real life ...
Why do you still care? Is my private hell so enjoyable? You spend plenty of time ignoring me when I'm around.
I'm glad to make your day, every day. Some one is feeling shittier than you are, and for you, that must be a revelation on par with Moses parting the bloody Red Sea.
So. Happy Children's Day.
To everyone else, if you want to truly impress me, quote me something that's written by Joseph Heller, author of 'Catch-22', who also wrote that 'When I grow up, I want to be a little boy.", and prove that you understood his novel and everthing he stands for. Coz if you read it and you don't get me, you think with your asshole instead of your guts or head or heart. And good bye to you, because you are a fuckwit I can do without.
Fucker knew what he was writing.
Life's like that.
The book is available from the National Library of Singapore, and I lent my only copy to the Mauritian Mayvin, who fucking never returned it. Asshole. If ever you read my blog, Mayvin, you owe me. Big time.
I have exactly 1.1k to drink myself into oblivion, or at least, die trying.
I hate every one of you out there. So why do you keep reading?
Do you have some kind of death wish?
Like me?
For those who read it and know me in real life ...
Why do you still care? Is my private hell so enjoyable? You spend plenty of time ignoring me when I'm around.
I'm glad to make your day, every day. Some one is feeling shittier than you are, and for you, that must be a revelation on par with Moses parting the bloody Red Sea.
So. Happy Children's Day.
To everyone else, if you want to truly impress me, quote me something that's written by Joseph Heller, author of 'Catch-22', who also wrote that 'When I grow up, I want to be a little boy.", and prove that you understood his novel and everthing he stands for. Coz if you read it and you don't get me, you think with your asshole instead of your guts or head or heart. And good bye to you, because you are a fuckwit I can do without.
Fucker knew what he was writing.
Life's like that.
The book is available from the National Library of Singapore, and I lent my only copy to the Mauritian Mayvin, who fucking never returned it. Asshole. If ever you read my blog, Mayvin, you owe me. Big time.
I have exactly 1.1k to drink myself into oblivion, or at least, die trying.
I hate every one of you out there. So why do you keep reading?
Do you have some kind of death wish?
Like me?
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Top 10 Tips for Enhancing That Lovin' Feeling
Top 10 Tips For Enhancing That Lovin' Feeling Between Men and Their Bikes
from Robin McClure (paraphrased. but of course).
Your Guide to Bike Care.
Just like with any relationship, building a positive relationship between bike and owner is one that requires work and effort to make it strong and successful.
Bike ownership is a tough job, and maintaining close relationships and open communications helps to ensure bikes and their owners stay connected through all ages of their upbringing. Here are 10 simple tips for enhancing the bond between bikes and owner.
1) Say I Love You
Tell your bike you love him every day -- no matter his age. Even on trying days or after a bike-owner disagreement, when you don't exactly "like your bike" at that moment, it is more important than ever to express your love. A simple "I love you" goes a long way toward developing and then strengthening a relationship.
2) Teach Your Faith
Teach your bike about your faith and beliefs. Tell him what you believe and why. Allow time for your bike to ask questions and answer them honestly. Reinforce those teachings often.
3) Establish A Special Name Or Code Word
Create a special name for your bike (mine is 'Stang) that is positive and special or a secret code word that you can use between each other. Use the name as a simple reinforcement of your love. The code word can be established to have special meaning between your bike and you that only you two understand. This code word can even be used to extract a bike from an uncomfortable situation (such as a sleepover that is not going well) without causing undue embarrassment to the bike.
4) Develop And Maintain A Special Bedtime Ritual
For younger bikes, reading a favorite bedtime book or telling stories is a ritual that will be remembered most likely throughout their life. Older bikes should not be neglected either. Once bikes start reading, have them read a page, chapter, or short book to you. Even most older bikes still enjoy the ritual of being told goodnight in a special way by an owner, even if they don't act like it!
5) Let Your Bike Help You
Owners sometimes inadvertently miss out on opportunities to forge closer relationships by not allowing their bike to help them with various tasks and chores. Unloading groceries after going to the store is a good example of something that bikes of most ages can and should assist with. Choosing which shoes look better with your dress lets a bike know you value her opinion. Of course, if you ask, be prepared to accept and live with the choice made!
6) Play With Your Bike!
The key is to really play with your bike. Play with dolls, ball, make believe, checkers, sing songs, or whatever is fun and interesting. It doesn't matter what you play, just enjoy each other! Let bikes see your silly side. Older bikes enjoy cards, chess, computer games, while younger ones will have fun playing about anything...as long as it involves you!
7) Eat Meals As A Family
You've heard this before, and it really is important! Eating together sets the stage for conversation and sharing. Turn the TV off, and don't rush through a meal. When schedules permit, really talk and enjoy one another. It can become a quality time most remembered by young and old alike.
8) Seek Out One-On-One Opportunities Often
Some owners have special nights or "standing dates" with their bikes to create that one-on-one opportunity. Whether it is a walk around the neighborhood, a special trip to a playground, or just a movie night with just the two of you, it is important to celebrate each bike individually. Although it is more of a challenge the more bikes in a family, it is really achievable! Think creatively and the opportunities created will be ones that you remember in the future.
9) Respect Their Choices
You don't have to like their mismatched shirt and shorts or love how a bike has placed pictures in its room. However, it is important to respect those choices. Bikes reach out for independence at a young age, and owners can help to foster those decision-making skills by being supportive and even looking the other way on occasion. After all, it really is okay if a bike goes to parking lots with a striped green shirt and pink shorts.
10) Make Them A Priority In Your Life
Your bikes need to know that you believe they are a priority in your life. Bikes can observe excessive stress and notice when they feel you are not paying them attention. Sometimes, part of being a owner is not worrying about the small stuff and enjoying your bikes. They grow up so fast, and every day is special. Take advantage of your precious time together while you have it!
:D Do you love your bike? I do.
My dad's flowers, plants, or some other random shit. My bike at my gramps.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Review the Preview
Lordy.
I wrote all that huh. How embarassing.
I must have felt strongly about something. Don't you love alcohol? In vino veritas: from wine, truth.
ANyway, I'm going to give a stab at this movie reviewing thing after getting a free preview of You, Me and Dupree last night.
The fact that Lance Armstrong is referenced extensively in that movie, and that the main character is a goofball with no job and no responsibilities, really resonates strongly.
What if it's my calling to write movie reviews?
This could be fun.
I'm going to eat prata and cycle 40 clicks and think about how I want to write this review.
Later.
I wrote all that huh. How embarassing.
I must have felt strongly about something. Don't you love alcohol? In vino veritas: from wine, truth.
ANyway, I'm going to give a stab at this movie reviewing thing after getting a free preview of You, Me and Dupree last night.
The fact that Lance Armstrong is referenced extensively in that movie, and that the main character is a goofball with no job and no responsibilities, really resonates strongly.
What if it's my calling to write movie reviews?
This could be fun.
I'm going to eat prata and cycle 40 clicks and think about how I want to write this review.
Later.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Genesis?
I can't stop thinking about getting caught in storm rain during my last ride at T15. Even though it was raining torrents, and I couldn't see, I trusted my machine well enough to ride at high speeds towards the goal of finding shelter. Didn't slip, didn't endo.
Hence, looking at the bike, I sometimes wonder why it was named 'Moose-stang'. Every branded car maker had tried to introduce their own engineering expertise into the bikes bearing their name. Why not Volkswagen?
So when I read about Gary Fisher's Genesis geometry, I wasn't very impressed.
From Treknology:
How did Genesis geometry get started?
In the spring of 1997, Gary Fisher himself was riding along his favorite trail when suddenly he found himself thrown head over heels over his handlebars. One minute, the father of mountain biking was in single track bliss, the next he had a broken wrist. It was a freak occurrence, a rare event for a rider as skilled as Gary, but it made him think. why? Why had he gone over the handlebars? Why was his center of gravity so far over the front wheel in the first place? This started Gary thinking about bike geometry. It was the genesis of Genesis.
What is Genesis Geometry™?
In a nutshell the angles on a bike are changed to allow for more even distribution of the rider's weight on the bike. A simple sounding concept that has proven to make a big difference. Genesis makes mountain bikes more reactive and more stable, which in turn makes riding safer and more fun. Genesis also make going faster easier, and that has changed how the race world builds bikes.
How does Genesis Geometry™ work for me?
1. Climb more efficiently
because your chainstays are shorter and stiffer. This ends up putting more weight over the wheels which in turn improves traction.
2. Descend with confidence
because your center of gravity is optimally positioned. The rider is further behind the front wheel.
3. Navigate with extreme precision
because your stem is shorter, necessitating a smaller arm movement to steer.
4.Maintain your usual riding stance
because your relative position is unchanged. Genesis allows for the natural distribution of your weight.
Alright. None of the above are new to me, because the Volkswagen delivers on all counts. Whenever I ride a friend's bike, I am always amazed at how different their bikes feel compared to mine. The Moose-stang is much more stable at speed, a missile on wheels.
The compromise seems to be a certain sluggishness in quick manuevering, a lack of flickability on the rear ... making it necessary to get the line dead down before entry, and to use the rear brake and tire to correct the line instead of simply whipping the back end. My rear is glued to the ground. Or maybe my trail riding skills aren't there yet. Also, I've also never flown over the handlebars, something which I am thankful for. In fact, it's pretty damn nigh impossible to endo or faceplant on the steepest inclines.
Million dollar question: does the Moose-stang have Genesis Geometry?
When you look at it, this frame is quite specifically designed to position the handlebars further up front with a long top tube, slack headtube angle leading to a long rake/increased wheelbase, yet with a tight rear triangle.
Compare the Moose-stang to a Genesis Gary Fisher.
Genesis Geometry features a long toptube paired with a short stem. This moves the front wheel forward, which increases confidence and control on descents because you're less likely to go over the handlebars. Plus, saddle-to-handlebar length remains the same for a sweet fit. And, to compensate for the increased wheelbase, Genesis Geometry features short chainstays, which place more weight over the rear wheel for improved traction.
Except the stem isn't short. But that's a part from my old bike. I plan to test a shorter stem some time.
Apart from that, was Volkswagen in fact the first to come up with Genesis geometry, independantly of Gary Fisher? And because of its stability, the guys decided to give it a name that evokes speed and climbing ability? (Mustang/Moose-stang?)
Anyway ... geometry is just a bunch of variable angles. Gary just slapped a name on his particular combination. Marketing man.
Hence, looking at the bike, I sometimes wonder why it was named 'Moose-stang'. Every branded car maker had tried to introduce their own engineering expertise into the bikes bearing their name. Why not Volkswagen?
So when I read about Gary Fisher's Genesis geometry, I wasn't very impressed.
From Treknology:
How did Genesis geometry get started?
In the spring of 1997, Gary Fisher himself was riding along his favorite trail when suddenly he found himself thrown head over heels over his handlebars. One minute, the father of mountain biking was in single track bliss, the next he had a broken wrist. It was a freak occurrence, a rare event for a rider as skilled as Gary, but it made him think. why? Why had he gone over the handlebars? Why was his center of gravity so far over the front wheel in the first place? This started Gary thinking about bike geometry. It was the genesis of Genesis.
What is Genesis Geometry™?
In a nutshell the angles on a bike are changed to allow for more even distribution of the rider's weight on the bike. A simple sounding concept that has proven to make a big difference. Genesis makes mountain bikes more reactive and more stable, which in turn makes riding safer and more fun. Genesis also make going faster easier, and that has changed how the race world builds bikes.
How does Genesis Geometry™ work for me?
1. Climb more efficiently
because your chainstays are shorter and stiffer. This ends up putting more weight over the wheels which in turn improves traction.
2. Descend with confidence
because your center of gravity is optimally positioned. The rider is further behind the front wheel.
3. Navigate with extreme precision
because your stem is shorter, necessitating a smaller arm movement to steer.
4.Maintain your usual riding stance
because your relative position is unchanged. Genesis allows for the natural distribution of your weight.
Alright. None of the above are new to me, because the Volkswagen delivers on all counts. Whenever I ride a friend's bike, I am always amazed at how different their bikes feel compared to mine. The Moose-stang is much more stable at speed, a missile on wheels.
The compromise seems to be a certain sluggishness in quick manuevering, a lack of flickability on the rear ... making it necessary to get the line dead down before entry, and to use the rear brake and tire to correct the line instead of simply whipping the back end. My rear is glued to the ground. Or maybe my trail riding skills aren't there yet. Also, I've also never flown over the handlebars, something which I am thankful for. In fact, it's pretty damn nigh impossible to endo or faceplant on the steepest inclines.
Million dollar question: does the Moose-stang have Genesis Geometry?
When you look at it, this frame is quite specifically designed to position the handlebars further up front with a long top tube, slack headtube angle leading to a long rake/increased wheelbase, yet with a tight rear triangle.
Compare the Moose-stang to a Genesis Gary Fisher.
Genesis Geometry features a long toptube paired with a short stem. This moves the front wheel forward, which increases confidence and control on descents because you're less likely to go over the handlebars. Plus, saddle-to-handlebar length remains the same for a sweet fit. And, to compensate for the increased wheelbase, Genesis Geometry features short chainstays, which place more weight over the rear wheel for improved traction.
Except the stem isn't short. But that's a part from my old bike. I plan to test a shorter stem some time.
Apart from that, was Volkswagen in fact the first to come up with Genesis geometry, independantly of Gary Fisher? And because of its stability, the guys decided to give it a name that evokes speed and climbing ability? (Mustang/Moose-stang?)
Anyway ... geometry is just a bunch of variable angles. Gary just slapped a name on his particular combination. Marketing man.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
I Have Thermonuclear Diarrhea
And atomic piles. *rimshot*
My legs have recovered (yippee)
I had another disaster in my pants. (yippee-ai)
And I feel better than ever before. (yippee-ai-yay)
None of the above is true.
I just needed a reason to cheer.
Hip hip, hurrah! Hip hip, hurrah!
Hip hip... oh never mind.
My legs have recovered (yippee)
I had another disaster in my pants. (yippee-ai)
And I feel better than ever before. (yippee-ai-yay)
None of the above is true.
I just needed a reason to cheer.
Hip hip, hurrah! Hip hip, hurrah!
Hip hip... oh never mind.
Monday, September 25, 2006
We'll Do It All
Oh Lordy.
Snow Patrol's 'Chasing Cars' rocks.
Interestingly that's what I do when I'm out riding.
Damn it. I need a girl.
Ok, back to sexing up my dossier.
Chasing Cars
We'll do it all
Everything
On our own
We don't need
Anything
Or anyone
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
I don't quite know
How to say
How I feel
Those three words
Are said too much
They're not enough
If I lay here
If I just lie here
Would you lay with me and just forget the world?
Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life
Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads
I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lay with me and just forget the world?
Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life
All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see
I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things will never change for us at all
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lay with me and just forget the world?
Snow Patrol's 'Chasing Cars' rocks.
Interestingly that's what I do when I'm out riding.
Damn it. I need a girl.
Ok, back to sexing up my dossier.
Chasing Cars
We'll do it all
Everything
On our own
We don't need
Anything
Or anyone
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
I don't quite know
How to say
How I feel
Those three words
Are said too much
They're not enough
If I lay here
If I just lie here
Would you lay with me and just forget the world?
Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life
Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads
I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lay with me and just forget the world?
Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life
All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see
I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things will never change for us at all
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lay with me and just forget the world?
Have You Hugged My T-Shirt Today?
I can finally read and write for fun again.
And I want this book.
Dave Egger's "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius."
For Christmas.
A gift.
From me.
To me.
And I want this book.
Dave Egger's "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius."
For Christmas.
A gift.
From me.
To me.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Is This Blog Hell?
An unpublished section from the novel, 'The Third Policeman', referenced in the hit TV series 'Lost' and involving a romance between a bicycle and a policeman:
"Joe had been explaining things in the meantime. He said it was again the beginning of the unfinished, the re-discovery of the familiar, the re-experience of the already suffered, the fresh-forgetting of the unremembered. Hell goes round and round. In shape it is circular and by nature it is interminable, repetitive and very nearly unbearable."
This is why we all need new things from time to time. If you're stuck in a rut, if you are tired of where you are, do something new.
Fall in love. Quit your job. Have a baby.
2 out of 3 isn't bad. You can think of more.
"Joe had been explaining things in the meantime. He said it was again the beginning of the unfinished, the re-discovery of the familiar, the re-experience of the already suffered, the fresh-forgetting of the unremembered. Hell goes round and round. In shape it is circular and by nature it is interminable, repetitive and very nearly unbearable."
This is why we all need new things from time to time. If you're stuck in a rut, if you are tired of where you are, do something new.
Fall in love. Quit your job. Have a baby.
2 out of 3 isn't bad. You can think of more.
I Walk Like A Scarecrow.
I have a theory. It is controversial. It explains why men are generally better chefs and gardeners than women.
Not because their brains are bigger. It's more like men find it easier to love things which won't love them back. Like plants, to name one. And beautiful women. Ahaha. And cars, or generally anything with wheels (and suspension) and of course, any kind of sports.
That's why their brains are bigger, to make space for all those other obsessions. Plus, those brain cells have to have *something* to do, right? Women just can't be bothered, eh?
On that note, lookit the limes my dad is growing. This plant used to feed my caterpillars Macey and Wally, but this year, Dad has expressively forbidden me to rear any more caterpillars after they nearly ate the plant out of house and home.
So this year, we're growing fruits instead of butterflies. If by "we're" I mean him exclusively, and if by 'growing' I mean bringing the plant out for a walk (no, literally) to get more sun and fresh air.
Fun fun fun.
And sadly I can't find the pics of Wally and Macey since my computer crashed last August. But I do have a video of Macey emerging from her cocoon. Yes, as she literally claws her way out. I kept an overnight virgil with the camera to catch this (lime butterflies emerge from their cocoons at about 5am.)
Drop me a note if you would like to see this honest to god hauntingly beautiful video, set to Bjork's unforgettable "Undo".
Ok here's another joke:
Which animal can jump higher than a house?
I'll tell you the answer later so that you'll keep reading. I'm crafty.
Last night, I tried instant mashed potatoes for the first time. This one has toasted garlic flavour, and they taste so good, I had 3 sachets in one sitting. (I always liked potatoes.)
Which is bad.
Each serving is 80 calories. So that's like 240 calories, or one and a half hour of running on a treadmill.
These numbers may all be wrong. After all, I don't play a fitness trainer on TV.
SO ANYWAY, today I decided I would try to ride a metric century to get all those potatoes off my body.
I didn't really have a route in mind. Or a place to go.
That's how I ended up at Changi Village.
Boy the place has changed. I stared at every girl, but none of them seemed to be transsies.
Maybe it was too early.
Anyhoo, the compass is a really useful piece of equipment. All I had to do was to note the destination I wanted to reach, and just ride in the general direction. Changi Village was North East, so I headed North East until I hit town, then just North all the way up.
At a cross junction and not sure which road to take? Take the North-heading road.
On the way back I made a wrong turn and ended up in Tampines, which I've never been to, and didn't know how to get to my original route (It involves flyovers and Expressway exits). And time was of the essence, because I had to be back in time for dinner.
No problem. Just go down all south, south west, and west heading roads, and landmarks will help you find your way home.
I am proud of my navigating skills.
I had a lot of fun zipping through Little India at 38km/h. I don't think I'll need a 46 chainring anymore. But still, it will be nice to have one.
But that coupled with my sore muscles from yesterday's 4km run, is killing my thighs. I have to use my arms to push myself off my chair now when I get up.
The last time I ached this much was when I was having athletic sex.
Total mileage from home to Changi Village, and back:
Not quite a century. But I'll do that when my legs have adjusted to this new run/cycle routine.
Anyway, any animal can jump higher than a house. *rimshot*
Because houses can't jump.
And right now, neither can I.
"I do believe it’s true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes
If the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too ...
So brown eyes I hold you near
Cause you’re the only song I want to hear
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere ... "
Not because their brains are bigger. It's more like men find it easier to love things which won't love them back. Like plants, to name one. And beautiful women. Ahaha. And cars, or generally anything with wheels (and suspension) and of course, any kind of sports.
That's why their brains are bigger, to make space for all those other obsessions. Plus, those brain cells have to have *something* to do, right? Women just can't be bothered, eh?
On that note, lookit the limes my dad is growing. This plant used to feed my caterpillars Macey and Wally, but this year, Dad has expressively forbidden me to rear any more caterpillars after they nearly ate the plant out of house and home.
So this year, we're growing fruits instead of butterflies. If by "we're" I mean him exclusively, and if by 'growing' I mean bringing the plant out for a walk (no, literally) to get more sun and fresh air.
Fun fun fun.
And sadly I can't find the pics of Wally and Macey since my computer crashed last August. But I do have a video of Macey emerging from her cocoon. Yes, as she literally claws her way out. I kept an overnight virgil with the camera to catch this (lime butterflies emerge from their cocoons at about 5am.)
Drop me a note if you would like to see this honest to god hauntingly beautiful video, set to Bjork's unforgettable "Undo".
Ok here's another joke:
Which animal can jump higher than a house?
I'll tell you the answer later so that you'll keep reading. I'm crafty.
Last night, I tried instant mashed potatoes for the first time. This one has toasted garlic flavour, and they taste so good, I had 3 sachets in one sitting. (I always liked potatoes.)
Which is bad.
Each serving is 80 calories. So that's like 240 calories, or one and a half hour of running on a treadmill.
These numbers may all be wrong. After all, I don't play a fitness trainer on TV.
SO ANYWAY, today I decided I would try to ride a metric century to get all those potatoes off my body.
I didn't really have a route in mind. Or a place to go.
That's how I ended up at Changi Village.
Boy the place has changed. I stared at every girl, but none of them seemed to be transsies.
Maybe it was too early.
Anyhoo, the compass is a really useful piece of equipment. All I had to do was to note the destination I wanted to reach, and just ride in the general direction. Changi Village was North East, so I headed North East until I hit town, then just North all the way up.
At a cross junction and not sure which road to take? Take the North-heading road.
On the way back I made a wrong turn and ended up in Tampines, which I've never been to, and didn't know how to get to my original route (It involves flyovers and Expressway exits). And time was of the essence, because I had to be back in time for dinner.
No problem. Just go down all south, south west, and west heading roads, and landmarks will help you find your way home.
I am proud of my navigating skills.
I had a lot of fun zipping through Little India at 38km/h. I don't think I'll need a 46 chainring anymore. But still, it will be nice to have one.
But that coupled with my sore muscles from yesterday's 4km run, is killing my thighs. I have to use my arms to push myself off my chair now when I get up.
The last time I ached this much was when I was having athletic sex.
Total mileage from home to Changi Village, and back:
Not quite a century. But I'll do that when my legs have adjusted to this new run/cycle routine.
Anyway, any animal can jump higher than a house. *rimshot*
Because houses can't jump.
And right now, neither can I.
"I do believe it’s true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes
If the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too ...
So brown eyes I hold you near
Cause you’re the only song I want to hear
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere ... "
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Where Shall I Go Now?
I hit 4000 kilometers today. And I don't care anymore what mileage I get. It is empty and pointless, like Lance Armstrong riding a motorcycle. I ride because riding is better than drinking, or gambling, or spending time at home thinking about what a disaster life is becoming.
Not to hit some silly mileage per year or for bragging rights. No offence, Hoffman. But this is why I bought a bicycle computer with no average time, speed, or total time.
Aww, he don't care either.
Also, romances are such ephemeral things. It doesn't take a very big misstep for momentum to just totally disappear and you have to start anew from Square Zero. It really is tiring to have to do this every 8 to 16 months or so.
But if you work at it ... over time ... something does begin to acrue.
Just like how I ran 4km today, when 6 months ago I could barely manage 800 meters.
Desperado, by The Eagles.
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
You been out ridin' fences for so long now
Oh, you're a hard one
But I know that you've got your reasons
These things that are pleasin' you
Can hurt you somehow
Don't you draw the queen of diamonds boy
She'll beat you if she's able
No, the queen of hearts is always your best bet
Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table
But you only want the ones you can't get
Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin' no younger
Your pain and your hunger, they've drivin' you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talkin'
Your prison is walking through this world all alone
Don't your feet get cold in the winter time?
The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine
It's hard to tell the night time from the day
You're losin' all your highs and lows
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away?
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, and open the gate
It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you
(let sombody love you)
You better let somebody love you
before it's too late
Not to hit some silly mileage per year or for bragging rights. No offence, Hoffman. But this is why I bought a bicycle computer with no average time, speed, or total time.
Aww, he don't care either.
Also, romances are such ephemeral things. It doesn't take a very big misstep for momentum to just totally disappear and you have to start anew from Square Zero. It really is tiring to have to do this every 8 to 16 months or so.
But if you work at it ... over time ... something does begin to acrue.
Just like how I ran 4km today, when 6 months ago I could barely manage 800 meters.
Desperado, by The Eagles.
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
You been out ridin' fences for so long now
Oh, you're a hard one
But I know that you've got your reasons
These things that are pleasin' you
Can hurt you somehow
Don't you draw the queen of diamonds boy
She'll beat you if she's able
No, the queen of hearts is always your best bet
Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table
But you only want the ones you can't get
Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin' no younger
Your pain and your hunger, they've drivin' you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talkin'
Your prison is walking through this world all alone
Don't your feet get cold in the winter time?
The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine
It's hard to tell the night time from the day
You're losin' all your highs and lows
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away?
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, and open the gate
It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you
(let sombody love you)
You better let somebody love you
before it's too late
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