Today I changed the title to my blog, because it’s not really about being a nostalgic Otaku anymore, I want to write more about writing, and life, and everything else. Yes, I still do love anything Japanese. Girls who speak Japanese get an automatic +4 pts (in a 5 pt scale), just kidding. Seriously, how many times have I heard that “all Japanese girls are hot” comment? If I had a quarter every time I heard that, well I’d be able to buy you, and your mama, two cheeseburgers. If you said that in your life, you are either A) a moron, B) You watch Japanese porn all day, C) All of the above. Seriously its all about the makeup and clothes. If you walked in the streets of Tokyo, and saw a pretty girl. You will see that same girl over and over again, in every corner, I swear, they all look the same. Its actually a glitch in the Matrix, you know, to let your mind convince you that there are a lot of hot girls in Japan, but in fact, there’s only one. The Matrix clones that one girl over and over again at different places. Yes, that is the truth, and now you know. But really, the Japanese makes the worst porn, and have the hottest porn stars. I might have said that before, how a country makes porn refects the ideals of that society. Think on that, find me the 10 major differences between Japanese and US porn, and then go find a Korean one, and then parallel that with the differences in culture. I think I can teach a class in college. Enough said, I don’t want to talk about porn. Not today, not any day. And just to clarify, porn is bad for you, and I don’t watch it.
Its about the writing. Yes, I realized, last year I was unproductive. And unproductive means I went to work and make money but didn’t do much of anything else. I swear, work is the bane of creative productivity. Meetings make people stupid. Last year I wrote less than 10 blogs for the whole year, and not even one page of my next great American novel. This year I want to defeat my writer’s block and write more. Yes and there goes the new name. But seriously, there’s no such thing as a writer’s block. Writers invented that to be lazy so they don’t have to work. I swear, writers are the laziest people on earth. Next to that, nerds. But all writers are essentially nerds. Why? You ask. Because I know, first hand, for I am one, and I actually have to go to work, because I haven’t produced any profit from writing. But I swear, if I make money selling my books, I will never go to work again, not that I can’t, I just won’t. You either are a writer, or you aren’t. You have the genes or you don’t. Its like, you are either gay or you are straight. You just can’t work at it if you ain’t the material. A writer can get better, by writing more, but mostly by reading more (and that’s fun, thats entertainment), even writing is just to pass the time, it takes no effort. I write when I am driving, when I am doing other things, well not really typing, but directing the plot. The actual typing is just making it concrete, putting the pieces together. And I swear again, it does not take 1 year to write 1 book, and it certainly does not take 3 years, or 10. Any writers that tell you that they write 8 hours a day and then take the whole year to publish 1 book is lying. Sure it takes a long time to go through the publishing process, and a writer may write his next and next next book while his last last book still hasn’t been published, but that’s no excuse. And 1 book a year, those are the hardworking ones. Most write a hit and don’t write anything for the next 5 years. Yes, Dan Brown, you, the finest example. And Mr. Brown can’t even write. OK, Angels and Demons was a decent book. Da Vinci Code, come on, Jane Janson already did it in Gabriel Knight 3. Yes nobody knows Jane Janson because your Dad told you video games are a waste of time and very bad for kids (and that’s exactly why I played everyday every chance I get as a kid, if not to just piss him off). Mr. Brown copied other people’s nonfiction and put in characters, he should get sued (in fact there was an actual lawsuit). Have you read the Digital Fortress, may have been his first book, please, avoid it at all costs, but it maybe a good text book for how a guy who cannot write, have no clue about what he writes, did no research, can make more money than you will ever make. Seriously, he has no clue about how the Internet works, how information flows. William Gibson (who wrote Neuromancer) knew more than him in the 80s before the actual Internet existed. In any case, its really all about luck. If you want to make money writing, you don’t have to be a good writer, you don’t have to work hard. You have to be a lucky bastard. And either you are, or you aren’t.
I did say any writers could work minimally to produce 1 book a year (that’s about 2 hours of working a day at max). Yes I can personally attest to this. In the year 2000 to 2001, I lost my job, I got laid off, I got laid off again (yes if we take the “off” away from that and suddenly the world becomes perfect), and the cycle repeated. Yes, life sucked, and actually looking back, it wasn’t bad. Yes, my bank account diminished, but I was productive. I wrote 3 novels and they were all pretty long. It was so long the publisher said it was too long. Too long, yes that’s what she said (insert sexual joke here). And what I did when I didn’t have work. Here’s a run down of my schedule. I probably wrote on average 2 hours a day. Yes sometimes I write for 5 hours straight and sometimes I don’t write anything for weeks, therefore I put “on average”. I played video games for 3 hours, maybe watch movies for 3 hours, and also read other people’s inferior writings for 3 hours, thats 11 hours. The remaining hours, I looked for jobs, I went to interviews, I wrote agents and looked for publishers, I go through my pile of rejection letters. I even eat, sleep, and go hang out with my friends. And yes, I repeat, I did write three manuscripts. The quality of them don’t matter at this point but at least one of them was good, said that publisher, who claimed that they could not market my book. That’s like a girl saying, I think you’re hot but I won’t sleep with you. I prefer: this is crappy writing but with some work I think we can find a market for it (they probably said that to Mr.Brown). And that translates to: I think you are butt ugly but I’ll sleep with you anyway.
I say this again and again, writers write to pass the time and they write because they don’t have a choice. I did say that a professional writer can produce at least 1 book a year minimal, but I didn’t say that he should. I am just trying to prove a point how lazy writers are. In fact, I do believe that ideas go to writers, and not the other way around. Yes ideas are like phantoms that float in the air, and they possess the person, and the person writes them. That’s true creativity. So by saying that, I also do believe that a writer can only possibly write a maximum of 5 good books in his life, out of the 30 other ones that are either decent or they will suck. Yes, the more you write, the better your writing is, but not necessarily the story. A good example is Dean Koontz, who used to be one of my favorites, and regular reads. He used to write remarkable stories, with simple writing, and easy read. Now he takes 200 pages to describe a 2 page scene, stories don’t go anywhere, he has better prose and uses bigger words and the sentences flow better, but the stories suck. But he still makes money because he already hooked his fans from the beginning (and that excludes myself). I never become a fan for an author (I am only the fan of myself, the greatest writer on earth). If its good I’ll read it, if it’s not, I will stop at page 10 and never buy his books again. But the moral of the story is: writers don’t work hard, and should not work hard. The more you write, the better your writing is (it helps if you are a journalist), but the worst your stories will get, because the ideas have gone somewhere else. There’s no such thing as a writer’s block, its our excuse to not work. When ideas run out, go do something else, go have a family, have kids, have concubines, get a job. Don’t waste other people’s money and time with your crappy writing.
It’s very possible to keep you daytime job, write professionally, and still have a life (but you have to be smart like me). Seriously, let me give you a run down on my first 2 hours of my work day yesterday. I started the movie Blood Diamond, on my right LCD screen (Yes I have a split screen, yes I have my own office, and yes I make more money than you, who said life is fair?), which I downloaded, if I had to pay for it I would shoot myself. It sucked, just like any other new movies. I swear, movies are going downhill and TV dramas are definitely getting much better (Heroes? 24? Prison Break? Medium?). Come on, Departed won how many Oscars? Departed is originally a crappy Hong Kong movie (which is not crappy), but Hong Kong people are the king of “No Original Ideas” and Plagiarism and Piracy, yes and Hollywood is worse, because they actually had to pay money to remake it, put worse-looking white people in it. In any case, I gone off topic again. Blood Diamond flashing on the right of my screen, actual work on the left. Also looking at stock charts, reading crappy articles, financial news, technology news, chicks bugging me on MSN (But yes I love chicks so all chicks should bug me at work), me bugging other people about how work sucks, me writing the short story “The Fat Cat tale” on my last blog (below). My boss comes in, and ask me about the database, yes I told him to come in and stare at my right screen, which the SQL Server Manager Studio which I use as a camouflage of me actually working comes up and cover the windows media screen, the movie still playing, one side of my headphone still on, and Jennifer Conelly speaking, and I thought, damn it, she’s hot and i want to stare at her, left screen MSN flashing, hot chicks are messenging me, and I still have to finish writing that blog. My boss ask me to pull something from the database, I swear, I usually pull out data way faster than anyone because I already use it to cover up my movie so usually I already have it opened up and ready to go right away (which probably impresses my boss who thinks I am working on it already), as opposed to other people who is doing actual work and have to start it up. He asks me about another issue which I have not worked on, I look deep in thought (thinking about girls, and writing, and writing about girls), and said, I couldn’t find a solution yet, but I have so many other things to work on and I will put that on my list, my boss leaves, the crappy movie continue, and I continue to finish my “Fat Cat Tale”. Why I wrote that? I wanted to, I can. It’s that simple. Well I wanted to write something short and dark and twisty, and reflects something about life (especially about mine). In any case, my point is, its not that hard to have a job and make money so you can buy dinner for hot chicks, and write and keep yourself entertained. But well you have to be the authority of multitasking, which I am (again I can start a class), and you have to learn, grasshopper. But seriously, on a bad day, I really have to work, and i have work piling upon me that I wish I would die. I have one advice for every worker out there, work smart, but don’t work hard, unless you run your own startup. Don’t go crazy about making money for other people, and paying for other people’s prostitutes and concubines. In any case, if you can write crap and make millions, like Mr.Brown, and not work for the next 100 years, more power to you, and I will worship you, instead of the other way around.
When am I going to end this piece of art writing? Soon. But really, I swear, traffic just gets worse and worse every single day. Now I wake up earlier, and I get to work later. I leave work earlier and get home later. There’s a traffic accident 3 days out of 5, even without accident it is slow as hell. I swear, more people are going to their crappy jobs, more people are waking up earlier, and there are just too many immigrants coming in thinking that you can find gold in America (they think all the hot chicks are here, but there are only leftovers here. Please, go to Japan, at least you can find clones, if you missed the reference at this point, you can scroll all the way back to the top and read this article again, the cycle forever continues) . I used to listen to audio book, sip on my ice coffee, write all my blogs and my next great American novel, think about hot girls, think about life, the universe, and everything, while I drive. Now I can do all that in addition to playing my PSP in traffic, without getting into an accident and die (people who gets into accident that actually clogs up traffic or kill you, can’t drive). Next I will be doing all of the above in addition to receiving fellatio, and I can get on the carpool lane. Damn, I need to hire a carpooler, with extra toppings. I think, if I invent a machine that can translate brainwave into words, then I can actually write real sentences in my car, yes I know, I can record it and have software to translate that to data, but I hate talking to myself, out loud. But I know, it is all in my head, I mean the phenomenon of worsening traffic. You know what brilliant people (for example, me) say about time, the past and presents don’t exist, but it is what our mind make up to rationale our existence. In other words, this page don’t exist until you click on it. You don’t exist until I beat you up. I am the center of the universe, and nothing else is real. I am not saying because I am an egomaniac, maybe I am, but everyone is their own center of the universe. We are consciousness floating in space (and space meaning nothingness, not where the moon is, you moron). And we dream up the world. Did they not teach you anything in Matrix, no, not dodging bullet in slow motion (which they copy from John Woo), not looking stupid and saying “Woh” when you see someone fly (Yes that is the highlight of Keanu Reeves career — and he was not acting, but being himself, clueless of what movie he was in), its all about the spoon, is it there, is it not there? If what we see are just lights reflecting from the object’s surface, and then signals reaching into our brain, nothing is necessarily real, not the keyboard I am typing on, the words you are reading, the fellatio you are not receiving. Just signals, the past and future, illusions, the present, fleeing signals hijacked into our consciousness. Writing makes us smarter, but it makes us lazy, and laziness is a great thing. There goes another day, another year, and I shall, continue to be lazy… I plan, to not be obsessed about an object (which includes women), and be an object of obsession. I will be productive, I will start thinking about looking for my own place, I shall make more money, maybe I will quit my job (hopefully does not contradict the former), I will look for hot chicks (and will let them look for me), and I will write the next great American novel, and forever change the world (the world that my mind creates).
