Sunday, August 1, 2010


A year. One set of 365 days (More now, as of this writing.). The Maztorphyl has been up and running, to one or another degree, for that long now. Now I’m not going to waste too much of your and my time explaining my posts’ frequency, which I’ll admit rivals the inconsistency of the Highlander TV/movie franchise story arc. Still, I like to think that in the past year I’ve put out quality posts, even at the expense of quantity, and to me that’s much more important.

To be sure, I’ve started this post several times, but each time stopped for one reason or another. Suffice it to say that it boils down to the fact that I really haven’t done much writing for awhile now. The novel? Nope. My journal? Uh-uh. The odd pretentious quatrain? Not even a metre.

Why? I just haven’t had it in me. I wouldn’t call it writer’s block. I’ve had that nightmare before and this isn’t it. Granted, I’ve honored the odd freelance work I’ve managed to beg out of people, but other than that it’s been a bit of a creative wasteland for me.

There have been some technical difficulties with which I’ve had to contend, in the form of a series of viruses that disabled my computer sometimes for weeks at a time, with the coup de grace finally occurring just this week. But, as I mentioned to some friends, that’s why God created libraries.

So, what shall I do for this little contribution to my small, Chaotic corner of the Internet that won’t end a long, paranoid tirade of why the world is against me that will give the pricks of the world the satisfaction and others the opportunity to deluge me with messages of “Aw, everything will be okay,” (Those of you who read my “Angst” post know that I find far more annoyance than comfort in such trite expressions of fake sympathy.)?

I thought about doing a review of The Last Airbender, a movie I’ve been waiting to come out for a long time now. But there’s nothing I’d say that hasn’t been said already: while visually appealing, the acting was superficial, the casting in most cases was mismatched, and in the end I was left with the same sense of Cliffnotesian dissatisfaction I got from David Lynch’s version of Dune.

How could M. Night Shyamalan have solved at least some of these problems? By either adding another good two hours to the film or turning it into a miniseries a la SyFy’s Dune (I say the latter with some reservation, though, as anyone would who saw how badly that channel screwed the pooch with Ursula K. Le Guin’s already-mediocre Earthsea Trilogy. But then, SyFy’s been doing a lot of screwing the pooch lately, much like the Crackpot-Apocalypse-Conspiracy-Theory Channel—I mean—History.)

Or, I thought about doing a food review, but outside of Nico’s and McDonald’s I really haven’t been out to eat anywhere, so that’s a dead end.

Sociopolitical commentary, perhaps? Just did that and this blog is about Chaos and diversity.

Travel story? To where, the local Circle-K?

Maybe a light-hearted misadventure with the family would be good. Not.

So then I decided to just make this the next post, and call it good.

Whatcha think?