where the writers are
Coming to a Theatre Near You

Ok, so here's the depth of my cold, shriveled heart having a bored Friday night moment. Stop looking for the apocalypse, it's already behind you. Like those horror movies I could never find the guts to watch without covering my eyes, the scary freak with no remorse already has a knife angle just perfect for my slender throat. Oh really? Oh yes! Huh...geezz, don't think I'm going to run off crying. I'm born a little closer to Blade Runner and a little farther from Little House on The Prairie to get my skirts in a bustle. Come on now, slashity, slash, slash if you can at my rebellious will to live.

They always said we'd get accustomed to the violence we saw on TV. They said we'd get used to the video games and the incessant blare of information and smaller technologies. They were right. I have little sense of reality, very little sense of shame or privacy, still I have more than many. Afterall, I'm not currently inviting cameras into my home, at least not yet, at least not as long as I can pay the bills like a "normal" person. Shame on you old rockstars for making everyone think their home life was interesting. Damn you little housewives and teens at risk, too. It all seemed so glamorous when they did the first Real World...

 The world is over and I don't like it. The world is over and I like it a lot. Something new is going to come and we're all going to watch and we're all going to participate. It's well known in esoteric circles, btw, that the end of times, besides not being an end at all, requires a little help from the crowd, a little sis-boom-bah and some elbow grease, too, are all required to get this thing going. After all, since we've let ourselves down so many times before, we should attempt a little extra force and perhaps show some good form. Time to dance, kids, so get out your moves. Pull out all your little symbols and call out your gods, make it look like something at least as interesting as a bad Buffy episode or a less sexy Twilight.

In Pakistan the rich and the military place "blame" on each other so they can divert water from drone bases and private holdings of the landowners (see the NYTIMES). In American and Chilean mines we have disasters all the time (we must be going lower and lower, no?). In Africa there is less water and everywhere our coffee grows the yields are getting smaller due to a bug that lives for the shadeless heat that is, whether you believe it or not, increasing (this includes Latin America). China has its floods and of course Russia has its fires. Poor Haiti, poor women of Congo. Poor, poor, us if we sit by the sidelines. The good thing is many of us are unemployed and coming from wealthy places, so we too, should be able to shimmy our way into the history books of progress and transformation. Of course that means we need to loosen our hips and prepare our steps. It means we need to dance with our lovely elephant in the room, the apocalypse. It won't be easy but if you listen to the beat of the earth you'll get it, you'll be ready and awake. You know the apocalypse is great for increasing energy. Speeds up the metabolism, too.

Give it a new name, call it like a pet, but for once and for all, stop denying our debt to it. Because of the apocalypse we get to really live. You, yourself, get to struggle and to delve deeply into the merits of both love and hate. You get to squirm and emerge from your cocoon of apathy and safety. This time around in history is special (we love to be special). And if we could just stop with the "woulda, shoulda, coulda's" we'd be doing much better. Look kids, it's the big change. It's the big opportunity. And it's right here, right now. So cool...pretty soon you won't believe any talking head, pretty soon you'll slander your uncle at thanksgiving by calling him a pundit...or worse, an everyday politician. Those are fightin' words for sure.

Ah, perhaps it's easy to see why I never lasted in advertising. So!! XOXO Mr. End of Times, we think you're just dandy - I like the big watch and that weird Father Time look you're rocking; dandy meets tribesman. So, how exactly do we get to the other side? I mean, we're not asking for the answers to be easy, just um, uh, you know, point us in the general direction? great, thanks...see you...! And yeah, you too, keep on shaking with the groove, for when it's all kind of a mess it's best to get on with some comfortable shoes. Send my best to Lindsey, hear you two are a thing, on the DL of course!! xo!!

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Like they say:

If you can't beat 'em, get 'em to play you a bagpipe boogie while you're truckin into the maelstrom.

Welcome back, Ms Papic. Love the new pic.

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Truckin into the maelstrom

Every comment reminds me I gotta catch up on reading your posts.

It feels good to be back. Let's boogie, Ron.

xo M.

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I Been Slackin...

...at the Red Room, but I'm considerably busier at Scrambled, Not Fried