Oh joyous day!!

this doesn't really deserve a whole blog, but...

i'm going to Nerdfest '07!!! (a.k.a. Comic Con). Our friends Brady and Capree wanted us to go with them, and after all is said and done, we are finally going!!

hooray for comic con!

it was a serious blast last year - i shall miss hanging with some of the homies who went last time, and i shall miss the no-sleep-hang-out-at-disneyland trip on the way (misery...). I guess i'll just have to take a vacation with them soon. (Hear me Mander? Where we gonna go? Let's make it good and do it SOON.)

Anybody want anything from Comic Con? Other than nerd sex of course.

Carried Away on the Wings of a Sidebar

This one's gonna be a quickie.

And aren't quickies the best? At least, according to "Quickies are Best" volumes 1-15 or so. But I'm not going to dwell on XXX material, because let's face it, porn is SO 1995.

I have a quandary for you. But before I get to it, I have to interject that I mistakenly thought I knew how to spell quandary. I didn't. And the saddest part is that a dictionary, yea even and online dictionary (i.e. those sweet people at Merriam-Webster) couldn't help me. Because I couldn't spell it. Oh, I knew the word existed. I use it in my verbal vernacular all the time. But thanks to the failings of the Utah, California, and Colorado (mostly Utah) education systems, I couldn't spell it.

I attempted the thesaurus, since I did know and could spell, the meaning, but had difficulty finding a hit that would bring up quandary. So what did I resort to? That all knowing, that all-seeing, self-proclaimed God of the Internet:

Google.

Yes, that's right, I used google. Because as sad as it sounds, I knew they could help. Sure I use google to search the internet; sure I have a gmail account and love it; sure I've even accepted google as a verb ("Oh Cathy's quite famous. Google her, you'll see," said my last table of the evening who weren't very good tippers. I don't care if I can google you and get results - it probably means you're on adult webcams. Not tipping well, however, certainly insures you to be an asshole, particularly when the service was great, if I do say so myself. But then who I am I kidding, "Cathy" probably knows all about the servicing industry...).

But when Google starts moving into areas of my life with definite boundaries, like looking up word definitions and etymology, it makes me uncomfortable. I love a good beer brat with kraut, at a summer barbecue, hell, those things are phenomenal. But if one shows up at 7:00 am on my breakfast plate, I'm not going to be happy about it.



So how did powerhouse google help me? I knew that if I misspelled the word on google, but came reasonably close, it would suggest in the results that I meant something else - the actual word.

Know what? I was right. And off by an A. Quandary, not quandry.

All this proves one thing: I am a product of the digital age. Not until college did I take a class that addressed media and the internet. How long has this technology been around? Years and years, as any once-pubescent boy can tell you (delighted by the ability to get ahold of naked pictures without having to find a way to physically purchase them). It seems that finally schools are realizing sooner or later they'll have to deal with technology.

Which stems another thought - there are now rules, at least in our area's school district, whose newsletter was mistakenly shipped to us, that kids will be suspended or expelled for looking at pornographic material on their cell phones. This is an elementary school newsletter, p.s.

Where are the parents letting their 3rd grader have a fucking cell phone, is what I want to know.

To me its a strange indication of the evolving times. My point is, that where the ridiculous multitude of english classes -always my best subject and therefore through no fault of my own, but the generous teaching strategy of coddling the lowest common intelligence denominator - have failed me, my own self taught usage of the internet, computers and digital technology allowed me to solve my problem.

Truly everything is changing - from the influence of common nobodies, like myself, who are able to influence elections, out celebrities, expose right-wing conservative douche bag sham artists (and former porn-stars), even create their own porn and show it to the entire world with ease- and strange times we live in.

As I said before, I'm a product of the digital age, and not the scholastic age. The unfortunate part of this statement is that right now, I'm at the forefront of feeling that influence. My generation is the generation where for the first time, adults play video games, indeed video games are geared towards us. We're the generation where piracy, once limited to giant corporations or sea-dwelling vessels, hangs out in our bedrooms, worrying hollywood and the music industry to no end. We're the kids who blog to create change, and gain voices through a medium that nobody can truly control. The gap between the professional world and the amateur world has started to close and truthfully who knows how that will redefine they way we live?

All I know is that this advent, this shift has shaped who we are. Shaped who I am. But I'm only the beginning. Right now, I'm saddled somewhere in the middle. But if there are children, albeit children into hardcore porn at age 7, who can carry cell phones in elementary school, then it will be interesting to see what is coming next. My generation is the change, but we're the fulcrum of the raised-on-digital-technology-pendulum.

Wow that is really not what I wanted to talk about.

Actually this was to be a relatively brief blog on how I need to upload some videos, since I am a "rogue filmmaker" and therefore should have something to show. I do plan on uploading empty, though not perfect. Our fan film is in the works (I ought to blog on that, with photos of middle earth to boot - no, it is NOT a LOTR fan film) and will of course be posted when finished...


The Face of Terror

What I am curious about is if people want that classic of classics, The Mutant Trashbag or not on here. Its been hailed as "the greatest film ever made", or maybe it was "the first film Peter ever made." I can't seem to recall which. Anyway, you, the readers are welcome to comment on this blog. Both aspects, actually. Videos I've done, and my rant about growing up in a digital megaverse, or as I like to call it, DigiMon. Whatever. I'm out.

Disneyland Accomplishment List

I just wanted to tell you:

I'M GOING TO DISNEYLAND!

Yes, I know, you're saying, "But Peter, you just went this spring!" Its true, I did. But now I'm going again, and I'm excited. If you're not, you can blow me.

Peter's List of Things to Do at Disneyland

-Touch Big Ben. No, sicko, the clock on Peter Pan. That still sounds wrong.

-Eat a Dole Whip (Whip it good)

-Say hello to the carousel horses I lost money on. and maybe fight my evil twin while I'm at it.

-Get the f*cking Wisdom path on Indiana Jones

-Have some asians take pictures of me

-Give that bitch at the River Belle Terrace a piece of my mind

-Eat a giant turkey leg, while wandering around 300 lbs overweight and in size SM tank top

-Meet Maleficent

-Don't sleep all night before going, to enjoy hitting your 7th or so wall, and wish desperately that the park stocked enough coffee

-Throw up a little Blue Ribbon Bakery Love

-Say hello to the Bear of Lust

-Steal some baby switch passes for the Matterhorn

-Make someone sick on the teacups, feigning like you don't spin much

-Kill everyone else at Buzz Lightyear

-Get the goddamned magic mirror to tell me my disney character twin is someone besides Hopper

-Lose DG sunglasses and force lost and found to search for, then mail them to me

-Learn exactly why the Cretaceous period is between Tomorrowland and Main Street

-Sneak into the underground tunnels the workers use

-Enjoy some pot roast in 90+ degree weather

-Re-iterate how Alice in Wonderland ride has no real point

-Knock people down trying to get first fast passes to Splash Mountain, even though one could just walk on the ride at that point...

-Get paid to do Velociraptor impressions

-Use the 2 hour travel time from Disney Parking Garage to Disneyland for constructive team building exercises

-Buy a shitload of useless gimmic-y stuff that I don't need, but will feel inclined to buy while in park

And so on. If those sound odd, its because you haven't done Disneyland with me. A.k.a. Disneyland the Right Way. It should be a blast. Wish you were coming. Maybe.

I misplaced the carving knife.

I have a beef.

A big, slow-roasted beef.

And I want to carve into it, let you enjoy all the succulent juices that drip out as the knife tears the flesh and sinew into jagged pieces. All metaphorically of course.

But since its 11:41, and I'm tired and I have to work all day tomorrow, I'll perhaps leave that hunk of meat for another meal, and instead give you a bit of smoked carpaccio as an appetizer, to whet your salivary glands.

Margaret Cho once made the scathing and entertaining comment to straight people that if you "watch Will & Grace but don't support gay marriage, then FUCK YOU!"

An appropriate and wonderful insight. I have one of my own though of a similar vein:

If you're gay, enjoy the culture and the scene, but aren't politically active or involved in trying to secure the rights that allow you the benefits, then FUCK YOU!

And that is all I have to say for tonight. Brevity is becoming. Sometimes.

Triple X, sans the Vin Diesel.

So it came to my attention, as I struggled to write that paper on social problem films disguised as thrillers for my film history class, that perhaps we've overlooked a serious genre of films which are so very important to us all.

Being that I stand for righting (or just writing) the injustices of the system, I now present to you a short essay:

Deep Seeded: Story and Structure in Pornographic Art Movies

We often time dismiss adult films as simple or as more propadanda-ist drivel from those left-winger liberals who believe we ought to share everything, including government programs and bodily fluids. This is a most distressing point of view considering that real potential exists in these films, just as in any genre. Just as animated films, often apparently geared towards children, can be moving and emotional experiences when well done for adults, there lies a potential for porn to be intellectually stimulating.

Artists have always recogonized the human body as a beautiful marvel. The porn industry is truly no different than any other behemouth movement of an art - some are hacks and some really try to connect with the divine and create a statement that is meaningful to society. The experimental and avant guarde films that show what smutty sex films can truly aspire to be. Art.

Such are these films which follow. For the sake of ease, I will concern myself mainly with that subgenre of adult films, "gay cinema." Straight cinema is an entirely beast in its own right.

Take for example, the not-so-recent, Chef Boy Oh Boy. With it's deft storyline about several young chefs, on their own in world full of cooking and sexual repression, this film has really laid the groundwork for the other filmmakers like Chi Chi Larue.

In truth, few films embody the completely artistic taste and flair for visual storytelling as The Man Who Blew Too Much. A heart-wrenching tale of one man's obsession that ended in tragedy. Immediately we identify with the main character, a charismatic young man who's only crime was a deep love of deep-throating. The film works to help us feel the pain, and while it seems monotonous at times watching large member after large member have their way with his mouth, the editing is crafted to feel as if we too are blowing too much. From the onset, Billy is taken advantage of, the heirarchy's of society are challenged as police and military men each abuse their positions of power and put Billy himself in a new position.

It is disheartening to watch this young pizza delivery boy's dreams of college and an education in philosophy be crushed by "the man," who is only interested in what might be inserted in Billy's mouth. In the end our young hero is reduced, as the tagline suggests, to "work[ing] for cum." Soberingly gritty and realistic, unflinching in its narrative of a downtrodden man, it may not be for everyone, but it will have you thinking deeply about its poetic themes.

Other films which may be of interest to you, each with their own take on the social problems and distopia of the world around us include, Boyz On The Hood, Cream of Meat, Poppin' Peters 5, and Packed with Pride #19: Stick Shifters.

Each are worthy of viewing and analysis. Perhaps, as with all great works of art, we can better learn to understand ourselves and the world around us. Let us appreciate the great things which lie within us.

Things like Michael


or David (a.k.a. Rick Long)





Note: The author makes no moral judgements about whether pornography is acceptable or not, nor does he make or can he be held to any profession of the above pictures being attractive. He may or may not like the first one and certainly doesn't care for the second image (his face looks like it took a beating), but that is all a rumor anyway.






Okay, almost "sans Vin Diesel..."

I'm looking for a corpse, have you seen any around?

We had plans last night. I mean, we were going to sneak into an abandoned house again, to survey the damage of vandals (seeing as we're using it for our SH film). And I was trying to convince Will and Jackie to go, which was difficult because apparently breaking into an empty dark house isn't top of their list. I can't imagine why though, as Roosevelt once said,

"We have nothing to fear but possibly homicidal squatters who wanna cut us."

Alas, this exciting scheme was usurped by something else entirely: a trip to the spooky, fog enshrouded world of Silent Hill...

Sort of.

Actually, it was a trip to Noizy Hill, one of the funnier parodies of this game franchise I love so much. Perhaps it is so funny because there is so much anxiety attached these scenes. When you play the game you are consistently moved into a deeper and more twisted storyline, that continually makes you wonder, "What the hell is wrong with these people?" or " Why in god's name am I doing this?" or even simply, "WTF?" There is tension and angst and scares galore. I can't play these games alone, because if I do, there's no one to throw the control at and demand they play through the next horrifying level. Silent Hill is a stress-inducing descent into fear. And there's nothing like have our terror made fun of.

I encourage you to watch these videos. But! I encourage you to watch them only after having played the games or most of the humor will be lost on you, not to mention there are spoilers galore. We laughed ourselves into hysterics and I praise the youtuber who came up with this concept. The audio isn't perfect, but the amusement factor certainly is.

Here is one of my favorite moments (of the many pieces its broken up into):



See more at:
Noisy Hill

Are you coming back to Gotham for long, sir?

Yes. I'm posting another blog. Mostly because I want to move forward and not dwell. So I'm going to go on a random tangent.

Lately I've been working on the DVD for the Batman Murder Mystery I wrote and which was played out, almost a year ago (sick). And while I've been interviewing people, attempting to create this digital scrapbook, essentially, this strange feeling has returned.

Like Herpes, it always comes back.

(Um... I was going to put a picture of herpes on here, but I looked it up on google, without a filter on the search, and the pictures make me want to barf. Sorry no herpes pictures here. Just imagine and insert your own here---->
Or better yet, google image search it.)

I wrote the first mystery, which had arisen out of a great desire to have a Batman costume party, after realizing that once you had a collection of people dressed like villains and heroes alike, what then? Thanks to Matthew Leavitt who, in his usual unassuming battle cry to action said, "Why don't you write one?" in response to my bemoaning an actual Batman-themed How to Host a Murder.



And so I did. It took a lot of blood, sweat and tears to hammer out the format, a format that other spin-offs, such as those my friend Paul produces, take for granted since I had no basis for what I was creating. I only knew in England, there were parties not designed as parts to be read aloud around the table.

I ran with this and created a game (a pretty decent game, I should add) that hinged on murder, deceit, larceny, scandals, sex, and lying and backstabbing. People could still be killed which added a new sense of tension to the format, and so on. Elaborately staged, from meeting in Arkham Asylum, a trip to a cemetary in the rain, and dinner at the Iceberg Lounge, the game exploded into craziness.

I recall ques forming to talk to characters, people wheeling and dealing where they had no place, vendettas being carried out, and objects and money moving so quickly, no one could keep track of things. The costumes, the food, the decor, was all quite wonderful.



I felt tapped out after that party. I thought I would let it be. But that lasted maybe a month or two before I discovered Hush. Batman: Hush is a series that was done by Jim Lee and Jeff Loeb, two amazing artists. Together they created a gripping epic storyline with a multitude of villains.



I can only hope to one day have such a fantastic product. Once I saw how nicely all these villains fit together in one story (which was a challenge in the first one) I went over the top. I began writing an overnighter mystery, with competing groups, physical objects to hide and have stolen, event cards to force the storyline forward and many other advancements.

And while the decor wasn't nearly as elaborate, the storyline became doubly complex, and anarchy reigned. Along with really great food, of course. There was murder, blood, set ups, dealing or drugs, catfights, stealing, a funeral complete with coffin and eulogies and Alfred/Leslie Thomkins, the moderators turned players.



It was loads of fun, loads of work, and loads of expense, since I footed the bill. But it was worth it. And I was exhausted after I was done.

I thought, perhaps, the itch was scratched and I was done. And for a bit, it was. And now, just like another outbreak, my inner demons are taunting me with new and better ways to advance the game process, characters demanding a story be written and murder be played out on the great stage of Gotham City.

Who am I to deny them? I have not the fotitude, for I too am a creature of the night, and I feel the passion driving me forward. Batman I am not. But he shall return, on a dark and stormy night in Gotham to vigilantly end the corruption of the madmen and women who scheme against justice.

Even if that night is one of my making.

Be prepared. A New Batman Murder Mystery begins.