Idea.

The Future isn't tomorrow.

It's today.

Super-Technology. Super-Code. Super-Alphabets.

Think.

BIG.

I painted 30 boxes (part of the props for Ameviathan: The Green Machine) this weekend and I am officially very nervous. While the boxes are looking good, I keep wondering how I’m going to pull the rest of the movie off. And to be honest, I really don’t know.

On a slightly unrelated note, I thought I’d plug Celtx, a freeware scriptwriting program which I have been currently using to write up the final draft of the Ameviathan: The Green Machine script. While Celtx doesn’t read your dialogue in Mac voices or do format in styles ranging from Warner Brothers to the TV show Alias like Final Draft, it also doesn’t cost $250 for Final Draft.

Celtx also comes with a bunch of other neat little perks, like reports (for organization on shooting days) and scene and character anaylsis. Of course, as freeware, the program isn’t without its bugs. For example, I’ve had some trouble backspacing and editing written text. Nonetheless, as freebies go, it gets my seal of approval and is making my script look far better than anything I could do in MSTurd.

I
am
the
Internet.

I've
always 
wished I 
was one
of those 
poets 
who hated
and loathed
like
"You stupid
bitch
die, 
die,
die."

Oh well.

He's a cyberpunk
listening to his cyberfunk,
with his interface
surfing the netwaves.
Looking for the netgirl
in a digital world
made of pixels
which he mixes
into his electro-drink
at Bar Cyberspace
in this cyberplace.

How deep
does love run?

Daughters taxi at airports for daddies.

I wonder, about French cool and photo-chopped shoots.

I audit not to attend them.

Though... maybe I should find out.

Tears on shoulders down motherless fathers for the sons whose dad's were bagged.

Ôdishon (1999) is a film directed by Takashi Miike.

This shot you guys took of a truckstop patron caught my eye and gave me a chuckle:

I showed it to She Dragon and She in turn wryly pointed out the salty growth of barnacles that’d recently taken hold on my own face:

Proof once again that people with shag carpets shouldn’t throw lice.

Or something slightly more coherent.

Tonight 
I was restless.
So I ran
blind
like a bad
Rober Frost poem
from those
pesky blind
satanic 
Templars
in the 
eurotrash 
graveyard.

La Noche del terror ciego (1971), is a flim by Amando de Ossorio.

Here is the itinerary for the next two weekends. If you are interested in doing either of these activities, get in contact with me.

• Saturday 14th: Prop Construction
• Saturday 21st: Prop Construction

This Saturday Megan and I scouted for locations. On our excursions we came across Bowman’s Hill Wildflower Preserve where we saw this impressive looking gristmill.

The mill turned out to be the Thompson-Neely Gristmill, which is actually apart of the Washington Crossing Historic Park right across the street.

In the coming week I’ll contact with the people at Washington Crossing and cross my fingers that they let me film there. Even in the event that they say “no” - I plan to go back. Other interesting structures in the area include Bowman’s Hill Tower.

The photo of the Thompson-Neely Gristmill comes courtesy of Megan Register who also has a very nice photo of sheep from Washington Crossing Historic Park on her website.

I watched Serial Slayer 
AKA Claustrophobia 
twice.

The first time, I watched it. The second, I listened.

To someone else, somewhere else, it had another.

For me - it's only a down turned smile and people I knew.

Serial Slayer (2003) is a film directed by Mark Tapio Kines.