If you've been following my blog for longer than I think anyone except maybe one person has been following my blog, you remember that I created many scripts for comic strips that I had neither the time nor skill to actually draw. I more or less abandoned them because they weren't going to pay any bills, a lot of them weren't that funny, and the real-life events of the last couple years were kind of impossible to incorporate into the story I already had (which spans from 2004 to 2024 with an epilogue in 2054). But I was looking at my big document with all the scripts recently, and remembered the potential they had. I might have shared some of these, I don't remember, and I'm sure no one else does either. Previous blog posts about them may be found under this category, and holy crap, turns out the last one was over four years ago. Where does the time go? To recap, the core cast of the Cracroft family is: Alvin - the boring straight man Rachel - his mentally challenged wife Tyler - his bratty daughter Bill - his serially divorced brother Susan - his lonely sister George - his right-wing father Connie - his bland mother Bigfoot Country (2008)Panel 1 Alvin: Bill, Rachel and I need a vacation. Could we borrow your camper? Bill: Sure thing, Al. Just bring it back in one piece. Panel 2 Bill: Where were you fixing to go? Alvin: Camping in Oregon. We really need to get away from here. Panel 3 Bill: Driving that distance with a two-year-old? Are you insane? Alvin: No, just very poor. Panel 1 (and only) (in car) Alvin: And we're on our way to Oregon! I sure hope we don't die of dysentery! Rachel: Who's Terry, and why is he so sensitive? That joke is so oblique and unfunny that I had to think about it. Dysentery - dissin' Terry - get it? Ugh. Panel 1 (in car) Tyler: WAAAAAAAAAH! Panel 2 Tyler: WAAAAAAAAAH! Panel 3 Tyler: WAAAAAAAAAH! Alvin: Excuse me while I jump out into traffic. Rachel: Don’t be silly, Alvin, you’ll get hurt. Panel 1 Rachel: Wait, this is really Oregon? We just crossed the border illegally? Alvin: No, it's just a state, Rachel, not another country. You just drive on through. Panel 2 Rachel: So you're saying I brought our passports for nothing? Alvin: Those are checkbooks, Rachel. Panel 1 Ranger: You folks came at the right time. There’s been lots of Bigfoot sightings around here lately. Alvin: How convenient. They bring the tourists, eh? Panel 2 Ranger: Well, they’re probably just bears, but you never know. It doesn’t hurt to believe, does it? Alvin: I suppose not. Bigfoots – er, Bigfeet have never hurt anybody. Panel 3 Ranger: Well, actually there are some stories about – Alvin: We’d better go get set up before dark. Thanks, sir! Panel 1 Alvin: We’re here! Fresh air at last! Rachel: About time! Tyler: WAAAAAAAAAH! Panel 2 Alvin: Look at all the beautiful trees, and – what’s this? An enormous footprint? Looks like Bigfoot’s been here! Heh heh... heh... Tyler: WAAAAAAAAAH! Panel 3 Alvin: Uh, how strong do you think this camper is? Rachel: Alvin, you’re scaring the baby. Tyler: WAAAAAAAAAH! Panel 1 (In a boat, fishing) Alvin: Remember in “A Goofy Movie” when Goofy hooked a steak and caught a Bigfoot with it? Heh... good thing that can’t possibly happen for real. Rachel: You seem a little on edge, Alvin. Panel 2 Alvin: It’s nothing... it’s just that when I was little, my family went camping and Bill pranked me pretending to be a skunk ape. I wet my sleeping bag. I still remember it vividly. Rachel: Haha! I mean, aw, that’s rough. Panel 1 (Night, around campfire) Alvin: Bigfoot can’t possibly be real. There’s no way a population of animals that size could go undiscovered for so long... right? Panel 2 Alvin: That footprint must have been from a bear. A bear with surprisingly humanlike feet. Granted, bears are dangerous, so that’s not very reassuring. Panel 3 [SNAP!] Alvin: Aaaugh! What was that?? Rachel: Dear, we came here to relax. Panel 1 Alvin: Yawn. I slept so peacefully last night, Tyler’s screaming didn’t even wake me up. Rachel: Yeah, me neither. Panel 2 (Alvin and Rachel stare at each other) Panel 3 Alvin: Aaaaaaaaaagh! Where is she?? Rachel: How rude. She didn’t even leave a note. Now that I think of it, a two-year-old shouldn't still be screaming every night. I guess Tyler's just extra needy. Panel 1 Alvin: Tyler! Tyler, where are you?? Panel 2 Alvin: Tyler! We’ll buy you any toy you want if you come out right now! Panel 3 Alvin: Oh no... she must really be gone... Rachel: Or she’s waiting for you to raise the jackpot. Panel 1 Alvin (thinking): This is, without a doubt, the worst moment of my life. I never knew I could experience such a depth of despair. Panel 2 Alvin (thinking): My baby, lost and alone and unprotected... she could be hurt, every bone in her body broken, crying out for help and finding none... Panel 3 Tyler (playing with leaves): La la la la la... Panel 1 (and only) Alvin (kneeling): Dear Lord, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but please... please keep our little girl safe and bring her back to us. Panel 1 (In heaven) St. Peter: Oho! Looks like Mr. Cracroft suddenly isn’t too good for us anymore! Clara: What are you talking about? Panel 2 St. Peter: He’s sent us a prayer for his little girl. She’s lost in the woods. Want to take care of it? Clara: Tyler can take care of herself. But I’ll speed things along so her father doesn’t worry. Panel 3 St. Peter: Actually, maybe he deserves to worry for a while. Clara: Sometimes I feel like you’re not suited to this job. Clara Cockcroft is Alvin's ancestor from the 1600s who was introduced as his guardian angel in a Christmas storyline where she stops him from killing himself, and then retconned into a bunch of other stuff. St. Peter is her boss and also kind of a jerk. Panel 1 Bigfoot: Sniff! Tyler: ? Panel 2 Bigoot: Sniff sniff! Tyler: Hewwo. Are you a Wookiee? Panel 3 Bigfoot: Grrrrr... Tyler: Yeah? Will you take me to your ship? Panel 1 Rachel (crying): Judas Priest, this is all my fault... I’m the one who wanted to go camping... Alvin: It’s not your fault, Rachel. Tyler is very cunning for her age. Panel 2 Rachel (crying): I should have known, when I got to sleep for a whole hour uninterrupted, that something was wrong... Alvin: We both should have. But blaming ourselves now won’t help anything. Panel 3 Rachel: Well, what will help anything? Alvin: I wish I knew. Panel 1 (Bigfoot taps Rachel on the shoulder) Rachel: Not now, Alvin, I’m trying to think. Panel 2 (Bigfoot hands Tyler to Rachel) Tyler: Aww... I wike you more than Mommy. Rachel: Oh! Oh, thank you so much, Mr.? Panel 3 Tyler: I call him Chewie. Rachel: I’m glad he didn’t call you chewy. Panel 1 Alvin: Tyler! My sweet baby! Thank God you’re okay! Tyler: Of course, Daddy. Panel 2 Alvin: But that – just now – was that – it couldn’t have been – Rachel: Yeah, I didn’t think Wookiees were real either. Panel 3 Alvin: It must have been a bear. Tyler: I’m bored now. Can we go home? Panel 1 Alvin: Yeah, so, all’s well that ends well. But you might want to check the lock on the camper. Panel 2 Bill: Sheesh, Al, you must need a vacation after that vacation. Alvin: You can say that again. But not until Tyler is older, I guess. Panel 3 Bill: You think she’ll stop getting into trouble when she’s older? Alvin: I can dream. Occupy Wall Street (2011)Panel 1 Alvin: What do y’all think of this “Occupy” movement? Bill: It looks like a lot of fun. Connie: It looks unsanitary and dangerous. George: Hmph! Panel 2 George: It looks like a bunch of whiny brats who don’t even know what they’re protesting about and can’t be bothered to get a job. Panel 3 Alvin: It looks like the sort of thing you did in the late sixties, Dad. George: That was a long time ago! I incorporated a lot of real-life events into the storyline, which got old fast for a few reasons. First of all, a lot of things are really difficult to joke about without crossing boundaries of good taste that even I'm reluctant to cross. Second, a lot of them are just plain repetitive (e.g. school shootings, police brutality). And perhaps worst of all, Alvin usually just ended up as a puppet for my own views, striving to be the most reasonable and nuanced character, which I found preachy and annoying. Panel 1 Alvin: I have to admit I agree with some of the movement’s grievances... I mean, for those folks who do know what they’re protesting about. Panel 2 Alvin: The income inequality in this country is pretty disgusting. I don’t think we should fix it by stealing money from the folks who rightfully own it, but there must be something to do. Panel 3 Alvin: To say nothing about income inequality throughout the world. Most of the US is in the 1%. George: Join a commune, son. See what I mean? Panel 1 Alvin: Where’s Bill today? George: Oh, he went off to join that stupid protest. He thought it would be glamorous or something. I’m surprised you didn’t join him. Panel 2 Alvin: Hey, I’m not a huge fan of this movement. I just said I understand some of where it’s coming from. George: That gives you one up on Bill. Panel 3 (New York City) Bill: Yeah, I like money. Rich people suck. Where’s the food around here? Panel 1 Emily: Dude, so you don’t actually know, like, why you’re protesting? Bill: Uh, no. Panel 2 Emily: Me neither! We can be, like, friends! I’m Emily Barnes, but my friends call me Star Child, mmkay? What’s your name? Bill: Bill Cracroft. Panel 3 Bill: Uh, is there a bathroom somewhere? Emily: Like, try that spot over there. It totes worked for me. Star Child and Emily were two different characters that I introduced at different times and then retconned into the same character. I retconned a lot of stuff. That's one advantage of not actually publishing things. I also recognize that if this were an actual comic strip, Emily would most likely be as hated as Jar Jar Binks, but I like her and I won't apologize for it. Panel 1 Emily: Like, don’t tell anybody, but this is actually my first protest ever. Bill: No way! Mine too! Panel 2 Emily: Far out! We have so much in common! Hey, dude, want some special brownies? I, like, baked them myself. Bill: Thanks! You know, it’s great how we’re walking the walk here. We’re like a big family, and we’re sharing our wealth. Panel 3 Star Child: Just make sure to use them up so no one, like, shanks you for them tonight. Bill: Wait, what? Panel 1 (Emily takes out her guitar) Bill: You’re a musician, Star Child? Emily: Totes! This machine, like, kills fascists, as they say. Panel 2 Emily: GATHER ‘ROUND PEOPLE, WHEREVER YOU ROAM! AND ADMIT THAT THE WATERS AROUND YOU HAVE GROWN! Panel 3 (People throw tomatoes at her) Emily: See? Sharing the wealth. Bill: Let me try that. I’m starving. Panel 1 Alvin: So how’s fighting the power going, Bill? Bill (on phone): Michael Moore spoke at our protest today, cheering us on and bashing the 1%. Panel 2 Alvin: The same Michael Moore who’s a fat millionaire from lying in documentaries? Bill (on phone): Yeah, I didn’t get it either. Panel 1 (and only) Protesters: #@$% THE USA! #@$% THE USA! #@$% THE USA! Bill: I’m suddenly a lot less comfortable with this whole thing. Emily: They’re just, like, letting off steam, mmkay? Panel 1 Bill: It was great to meet you, Em– er, Star Child. I hope I see you around. What are your plans? Emily: Going back to college. I just started. I don’t actually, like, go to classes and stuff, but I gotta represent, mmkay? And you? Panel 2 Bill: Going back to my dad’s print shop, Prints Charming. So if you ever need anything printed... Emily: Hey, yeah! You can, like, print the signs and pamphlets for my next protest! Panel 3 Bill: Well, if it’s a cause my dad approves of. Emily: How’s he feel about baby seals? Panel 1 Bill: I’m back! So, can I get my paycheck for the days that I missed? Panel 2 (George stares at Bill) Panel 3 George: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Bill: Right then. Connie: Phyoo! You still smell like Occupy. Emily Visits Blue Haven (2012)Panel 1 (At the door) Bill: Star Child! What a surprise! Emily: Hey Bill. I was just in the zone and thought I’d, like, stop by, mmkay? Panel 2 Bill: It’s great to see you. Emily: Likewise, dude. Panel 3 Bill: Uh, what’s with all the suitcases? Emily: I was hoping you needed, like, a roommate. Panel 1 Bill: Well, I guess you could stay for a few days... there does happen to be a vacancy, since I just finalized my divorce. Emily: Oh! Like, tragic! How long were you guys together? Panel 2 Bill: About two months. Emily: Uber tragic, dude! Panel 1 Emily: So I’m, like, almost finished with classes and I need a job for the summer. I was hoping to find something around here so I could be near my best friend, mmkay? Bill: You know, it so happens that I did just see something. Panel 2 (Bill hands Emily a flyer) Bill: There’s an opening for counselors at Camp Itchyfoot, just a few miles away. I noticed it because I have fond memories of that place. I visited every summer when I was twelve to eighteen. Panel 3 Emily (reading flyer): So, like, there's a boys' camp and a girls' camp? Bill: Guess which one I visited. Camp Itchyfoot was the name of the camp in a story / sing-along cassette tape that a family in my hometown played in their car sometimes when I was with them. It had fun songs for kids, including the version of "The Cat Came Back" that ends with the human race, but not the cat, getting nuked out of existence. And speaking of existence, the only evidence of it for this cassette tape that I can currently find on the entire internet is a reddit post cross-posted in two subreddits asking about it with no success. What. The. Crap. Panel 1 Bill: You remember I told you about Star Child, Mom. I met her at the “Occupy” rally last year. Connie: I refuse to call her that. What’s her real name? Panel 2 Bill: Emily, but – Connie: Emily! So you’re living with a barely legal girl named Emily. That you met at a conglomeration of socialist riffraff. How delightful. Panel 3 Connie: My son, cohabitating! Where did I go wrong? Alvin: This bothers you more than all his divorces? Emily: I’m, like, standing right here, dudes. Panel 1 Connie: Well, George? You usually love to talk and criticize folks. Why didn’t you chime in? George: I’m sorry, it’s just – I was having such a flashback. It’s incredible how much she reminds me of my high school girlfriend Moon Nugget – er, Stella. Panel 2 Connie: Oh, by all means, don’t let me interrupt your daydreaming about Stella. George: It’s not like that, Connie, it’s just – thinking back to when we were so young, and reckless... nostalgia burst, you know? I got a lot of fond memories with her. Panel 3 (Connie is furious) George: Er, but not that fond. Alvin: Uh, I’ll leave you two alone for a while. Panel 1 Bill: Sorry my parents are so – uh, square. Emily: Hey dude, they’re just, like, looking out for their son, mmkay? I got mad respect for that. Panel 2 Bill: They don’t think I can take care of myself at this age. They don’t think a man and a woman can be just friends. What kind of trouble do they think we’re getting into, anyway? Panel 3 Emily: How’s about I bake you some of my special brownies, mmkay? Bill: Oh, yes please! Spoiler alert, Bill and Emily always remain just friends. I think that's kind of beautiful. Panel 1 Emily: So, like, I got the camp job, and I’ll be moving there in a few weeks. Bill: Great. I mean, great that you have a job. Panel 2 Emily: Yeah. And then I’ll be back to college in Connecticut. So let’s make the most of our time together, mmkay? Bill: Yeah. You wanna see the sights? Panel 3 Emily: There are, like, sights around here? Like, no offense, but looks like a big long drag to me, dude. Bill: Well, it’s better after a big long drag. Hahaha, drugs. Susan Gets Laid Off (2018)Panel 1 Boss: I’ll cut to the chase, Susan. My niece wants a job here. We’re going to have to let you go. Susan: What?? Panel 2 Susan: But I need this job... I’ve put my heart and soul into it... Boss: I know it’s hard. Times are tough all over. But you’ll bounce back! And I’m sure your husband can help with – Panel 3 Boss: Oh. Right. Susan is a real estate agent, in case anyone forgot or didn't care. Panel 1 (Susan is cleaning out her office) Susan (thinking): After all my time with this company, they just throw me out like a used tampon so some snot-nosed unqualified kid with a connection can take my place... Panel 2 Susan (thinking): What could be more degrading than that? Boss: Oh, can you train her before you go? Panel 1 Susan: So, the first main principle you’ve always got to keep in mind is – Niece: You can hold it right there, ma’am. Panel 2 Niece: Save your time and I’ll just tell my aunt you trained me real good. I’m just going to be playing “Doom” on my office computer all day every day anyway. Panel 3 Susan: Are you #@$% kidding me? Niece: I know the graphics stink, but you can’t beat the classics, all right? The only reason it's "Doom" is because of a Dilbert comic I read from one of my dad's books long before I had any idea what it was. Dilbert schedules one month to build the product and five months to play "Doom". Panel 1 Susan: I always prided myself on having built my own successful career without depending on a man. Now here I am, forty-four years old, and suddenly I don’t have a man or a job. Panel 2 Susan: I can’t find another real estate agency hiring in this state, and all the other decent jobs are asking for thirty years of experience in fields I know nothing about. I don’t know what to do. Panel 3 Alvin: You could always come join the rest of us at the print shop. Susan: I’ll keep looking. Tyler Starts a Band (2018)www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaEY7Z3QsOAPanel 1 Tyler: You know what would be cool? Let’s start a band! David: Yeah! Becky: Sweet! Panel 2 Tyler: We’ll be called “The Purple Stars” and play a mix of punk, metal and Gothic rock. I’ll be lead singer and guitarist, Becky will be on bass and backup vocals, and David will play drums. Panel 3 Becky: You’ve already put a lot of thought into this, huh? Tyler: I didn’t want you guys to ruin it with your lame ideas. David: Can I have purple hair? In fifth grade I had a crush on this girl who totally snubbed me, so in sixth grade when she started a band called the Purple Stars I started a rival band called the X-rays and determined that we would crush them. Each group wrote some songs and to my knowledge never got futher than that. Panel 1 Tyler: Let’s see... we’ll need to come up with pretentiously nonsensical album titles and art, psychedelic music videos with no coherent plots, and provocative antics for our live shows. Panel 2 Tyler: We’ll need a band logo and licensed merchandise... T-shirts, pencil cases and so on... a tour van, groupies, media coverage... anything I’m missing? Panel 3 Becky: Instruments, musical abilities and a song repertoire? Tyler: Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Panel 1 Alvin: Tyler, if you’re really serious about starting a band, I’d be happy to buy you a guitar. But I need to know you’re committed. Panel 2 Alvin: Being a musician isn’t all fun and games. It takes hours and hours and hours of practice. You need to work on memorizing chords until your fingers are calloused. Panel 3 Alvin: Will you do that? Tyler: You lost me at “isn’t all fun and games”. Panel 1 George: Hang on, Tyler, I think I’ve got my old guitar in the attic somewhere... I was in a band once, you know. “The Friendly Ogres”, we called ourselves. Tyler: Wow. Panel 2 (In attic) George: Yep, here it is! We’ll just need to tune it and it should be good as new. Tyler: Wow. It’s beautiful. Panel 3 Tyler: How can I ever thank you? George: By not practicing at my house. Panel 1 Tyler: Dad, can the Purple Stars practice in our garage? Alvin: Er... well... Panel 2 Alvin: I guess you have to practice somewhere... I wouldn’t want to stifle your creativity... this is a great thing you’re doing... um... well... okay, sure. Panel 3 Tyler: Good, because we’re already set up. Alvin: Rachel, if you need me I’ll be out of town. Panel 1 Tyler: So we haven’t written anything yet. I suggest we start out like most people do, with covers of already existing songs. Here’s a favorite: the 1992 version of “Temple of Love” by Sisters of Mercy. Panel 2 David: A girl band? Tyler: No, they’re all guys, though this song has guest vocals by “the Israeli Madonna”, Ofra Haza. Panel 3 Becky: Never heard of her, but those sound like big shoes to fill. Tyler: You’re doing her part. I’m the lead, remember? Panel 1 Tyler (singing): With the fire from the fireworks up above / With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain / You run for cover in the temple of love / Shine like thunder, cry like rain... Becky: Wait... “shine like thunder”? Panel 2 Becky: How is thunder shiny? It’s a sound. Did they mean “shine like lightning”? That would make more sense. Tyler: Becky, it’s artistic. It doesn’t have to make sense. Panel 3 David: But they put so much thought into the “shot” pun... Tyler: You’ll be the one getting shot if you guys don’t quit interrupting! For real though, I love this song. Panel 1 Tyler: Do you guys think I sound most like Tarja Tarunen, Anette Olzon, or Floor Jansen? David and Becky: Who? Panel 2 Tyler: The original lead singer of Nightwish, and her successors. Their vocal styles are very different, because Tuomas Holopainen felt Tarunen was irreplaceable. Panel 3 Tyler: Whichever one I sound most like will determine whether we do “10th Man Down”, “Escapist”, or “Endless Forms Most Beautiful”. Becky: I feel like you started a band just to show off to us. 10th Man Down is the first Nightwish song I ever heard, Escapist is the second, and Endless Forms Most Beautiful is profoundly spiritual to me (as well as reflecting Tyler's interest in biology). Susan, Tyler, and Becky Go to Camp (2018)Panel 1
Tyler: Now that we don't have to go to school, we can go anywhere. I vote for China. Becky: You can afford that? Panel 2 Tyler: Well, no, but – Becky: Do you speak Chinese? Panel 3 Tyler: Stop trying to ruin my goals, Becky. Becky: Would you settle for accompanying me to summer camp? At the end of first grade I told my class I was going to China, and then I was upset that my mom made a liar out of me by saying no. Also, setting up this storyline, which I really loved when I looked at it again recently, is the whole reason I shared the above storylines. Panel 1 Bill: Yo, Susan, Star Child’s working at Camp Itchyfoot again this summer and she says there’s still another opening. Want me to have her put in a good word for you? Susan: Thanks, but no thanks. I’m looking for something more... respectable. Panel 2 Bill: And what have you got so far? Susan: Uh... well... Panel 3 Bill: I guess you could always come join the rest of us at the print shop. Susan: Tell Emily that I accept her generous offer. Panel 1 Susan: Well, I got a job as a girls’ camp counselor for the summer. I guess it beats flipping burgers. Panel 2 Alvin: Who knows? You may end up loving it. Susan: Living out in the woods with a bunch of angsty, hormonal adolescent girls? Not likely. Panel 3 Alvin: Hey, on that note, you can get Tyler away from us for a while! You’ll give us a discount, right? Susan: I would if I didn’t know you were desperate. Panel 1 Emily: Hey, dudettes. So, like, welcome to Camp Itchyfoot. I’m your counselor, Emily Barnes, aka Star Child, and this is my assistant, Susan Cracroft. Susan: Hello ladies. Panel 2 Emily: So, like, find your cabins and set up your stuff and, like, meet back here, mmkay? We’re gonna have a stellar time this week. Susan: We have lots of fun activities planned! Panel 3 Emily: Just be careful of snakes, skunks, skunk apes, bears, wolves, cougars, the lake monster, poison ivy... Tyler: There’s poison ivy everywhere. Susan: They don’t call it Camp Itchyfoot for nothing. Panel 1 Emily: Right now, y’all put your cell phones and tablets and, like, electronic stuff in this basket here, mmkay? We’re gonna get friendly with nature this week. Girls: Awwwwwww... Panel 2 Susan: You’ll get used to it! You’ll have so much fun with nature, the week will be over before you know it! Emily: Time for a hike, dudettes! And, like, we’re off! Panel 3 Becky: I’m gonna die if I don’t check Instagram in the next thirty seconds. Tyler: Do I even know you, Becky? Panel 1 Emily: A-HIKING WE WILL GO, A-HIKING WE WILL GO... Susan: Quite. Er, I’ll just go find Tyler and Becky. Panel 2 Emily: They’re missing? Susan: I can guarantee without turning around that they’re missing. Tyler’s my niece, remember? Panel 3 Tyler: Ooh, paw prints! Let’s follow them! Becky: I used to follow people... when I had a phone... Panel 1 Susan: Tyler! Becky! There you are! Tyler: Hi, Aunt Susan. Becky: It was her idea, Mrs. Cracroft! Panel 2 [Rustle Rustle] Susan: I don’t doubt that. Look, Tyler, I know you’re not a group person, but stick with us, please? Your parents would skin me alive if anything happened. They wanted to get rid of you, not get rid of you. Tyler (glancing at rustling): Sure thing. We’ll hurry back right away. Panel 3 [RUSTLE RUSTLE] Susan: W-what’s that? Tyler: Probably whatever left the tracks. Coming? Panel 1 (At the picnic tables) Emily: So, like, what craft are you making, Tyler? Tyler: An AK-47 that will shoot pinecones. Panel 2 Emily: Ha! Mad respect for your ingenuity, dudette, but, like, give peace a chance, mmkay? Tyler: A well-armed summer camp is a polite summer camp. Panel 3 Emily: Ha! Cute! Like, Susan, come see what your niece is making! Susan (off-screen): I don’t particularly want to know. Becky: I made a phone. It’s better than nothing. Panel 1 (Around the campfire) Emily: Right, dudettes, it’s time for campfire songs! Like, what do y’all like? I can play Guthrie, Dylan, Lennon, Marley, Yankovic, Seeger... Tyler: Hey, Becky and I are musicians too! Becky: Well, we just started this year. Panel 2 Emily: Far out! Nice to meet some sisters of soul! Listen, you wanna get far, you gotta, like, expand your mind and see things different, mmkay? All the great artists did it. But not ‘til you’re older, mmkay? Tyler: Riiight. Panel 3 Emily: Try this on for size, y’all. COME GATHER ‘ROUND PEOPLE, WHEREVER YOU ROAM... Girl: Can we tell scary stories instead? Panel 1 Emily: Y’all want scary stories? Like, I’ll tell you a scary story, mmkay? You think you’ll grow up and change the world, but it’s all, like, just a scam. Rigged by Big Brother and the fat cats who fund him. Panel 2 Emily: They’ll never do what it takes to stop climate change. And even before then, their nukes will probably, like, melt us all like Popsicles. We have, like, maybe a century left on this planet, mmkay? Panel 3 Becky: That is a scary story. Tyler: Only if you think the human race is worth saving. Panel 1 Becky: Emily, you said something about a lake monster, right? What’s that about? Emily: Ah, I’m glad you asked! So the monster is, like, some kind of aquatic dinosaur or whatever, mmkay? And he lives just over there, like a half mile away, in the depths of Lake Gammagoochee. Panel 2 Emily: This monster isn’t sociable like his cousin in Loch Ness. He’s, like, an actual carnivore. He’ll pin you down and start, like, tearing out your organs while you’re drowning. Panel 3 Tyler: Good story, but you need to flesh out the juicy details, no puns intended. Emily: Have you ever, like, dissected an innocent frog? It's like that, but messier. "The Gamma Goochee" is a really weird song by Joe Walsh. Panel 1 Emily: Night, dudettes! If y’all need anything, like, just come and holler at my cabin! But don’t ever, ever come in without, like, knocking first, mmkay? Tyler: Fair enough. Panel 2 (In the girls' cabin) Tyler: Good night, Becky. Good night, Stanley. Wait – aw crap, he’s gone. Help me look. Becky: Look for who? Who’s Stanley? Panel 3 Tyler: A snake I met earlier. Becky: Not funny, Tyler. Panel 1 Emily: So, Susan, you have, like, a boy toy? Or, like, if you swing another way, I’m totally cool with that too. Just wondering. Susan: Ah, no. I’m currently single. Panel 2 Emily: Hey now sister, you’ve come to, like, the right place, mmkay? Star Child will show you all the, like, tricks of the trade. I’ll have the boys, or whomever, lined up around the block for you. Susan: Er... thanks. Panel 3 Emily: Oh, that reminds me, Frank, you can, like, come out now. Frank (popping head out from under bed): Thanks. It’s stuffy down here. Panel 1 Tyler: You know, Becky, this isn’t really my idea of a camp. Anything with showers and flushing toilets isn’t camping in my book. Becky: Then screw camping. I happen to like modern plumbing. Panel 2 Tyler: Well, I’d still like to up the ruggedness factor a bit. You down for a little midnight adventure? Becky: What do you have in mind? Panel 3 Tyler: Skinny-dipping in the lake. Becky: I had to ask. Panel 1 (Outside) Susan: Tyler! Becky! You’re supposed to be asleep! Tyler: So are you, Aunt Susan. Panel 2 Susan: Yes, well, things got a little awkward in Emily’s cabin. Her boyfriend is with her, and they’re... uh... well... Panel 3 Susan: …smoking pot. Tyler: Thank goodness. For a second I thought it was something inappropriate. Panel 1 Tyler: We’re going skinny-dipping in Lake Gammagoochee. Wanna come with us and feel youthful again? Susan: Well, the thing is, “Jaws” long ago cured me of any desire to skinny-dip at night. Panel 2 Tyler: There are no sharks in landlocked freshwater lakes, Aunt Susan. And even if there were, they never deliberately hunt humans like in that movie. Susan: I know. It’s not a rational thing. You know how childhood fears can be. Panel 3 Becky: Of course, there is the small matter of the lake monster... Susan: Exactly! Er, just kidding, heh. Panel 1 (In the water; everyone is shown from the neck up) Tyler: A monster in this lake is even less plausible than in Loch Ness. It’s much too small for a population of surviving plesiosaurs or whatever the hypothesis is. Susan: I’ll take your word for it. Panel 2 Tyler: I don’t think any of the cryptids are real. They’re all too large to still be undiscovered by now. Susan: Your mom says Bigfoot saved you when you were a baby. Panel 3 Becky: Really? I wanna hear that story! Tyler: She also says “Lord of the Rings” is a documentary on feudalism, so... See, this is literally the whole reason I shared the Bigfoot storyline. Panel 1 Becky: Ack! What was that? Tyler: What was what? Panel 2 Becky: Something just moved in the water over there! Tyler: Relax, Becky, it's probably just Jason Voorhees. Panel 3 Becky: Th-th-that's not f-f-funny, Tyler. Tyler: I beg to differ. Susan: I'm gonna swim away from you guys for a while. Panel 1 Susan (off-screen): Tyler! Becky! Where are you?? Becky: Right here! Don’t worry! Tyler: Now quick, head for shore and steal her clothes. Panel 2 Becky: What? That’s terrible! Tyler: It’s just a harmless prank. We’ll all laugh about it tomorrow. Panel 3 (At the shore, still in the water) Tyler: Unless, of course, she stole ours first. Becky: I’ll laugh tomorrow if I haven’t frozen to death. Panel 1 (Tyler sees a dark shape with eyes in the water ahead of them and talks to it) Tyler: Well played, Aunt Susan, well played. I see you take after me more than I thought. Susan (off-screen): Who’s that you’re talking to, guys? Panel 2 (Tyler’s and Becky’s eyes bulge) Panel 3 Susan (off-screen): Guys? Becky (looking down): This water got real warm all of a sudden. Panel 1 Susan: Emily! Did a couple of naked campers run through here? I tried to catch up, but – Emily: Hey now, sister, be cool, be cool. We’re all, like, one big family, mmkay? Panel 2 Susan: Pull yourself together, Emily! We have a responsibility for these girls! Gah, your breath reeks! Emily: Have you ever looked at your hands, Susan? I mean, like, really looked at your hands? Panel 3 Susan: Oh, never mind, I see them up in that tree. Emily: Heh, of course! Like, where else would they be? Tyler (off-screen): Can we agree to never speak of this moment again? Becky (off-screen): I’m itchy. Panel 1 Tyler (writing): Dear Mom and Dad, Becky and I went skinny-dipping at night, Aunt Susan stole our clothes, we almost got eaten by the Lake Gammagoochee monster, and we ran naked through poison ivy. Panel 2 Becky (off-screen): AIIIIIIIEEEEEEE! Panel 3 Tyler (writing): On the plus side, we found Stanley. Becky (off-screen): TYLER CRACROFT! Panel 1 Tyler: So one of our counselors gets high at night, which is horrifically negligent of her, and the other one is my aunt, which is lame. No offense, Aunt Susan. Susan: Some taken. Panel 2 Susan: You’re right, though, Tyler. Emily should be fired immediately. And I might just resign. I need a job, but this is even more stressful than I anticipated. Panel 3 Susan: You know, I heard Principal Donaldson wanted this job too... Tyler: I meant “negligent” and “lame” in the most affectionate possible way, of course. Panel 1 Emily: Listen up, y’all! The boys across the lake have challenged us to, like, a multi-event sports tournament! So we’re gonna, like, grind up their kiesters into organic burger meat, mmkay? Panel 2 Tyler: What happened to “Give peace a chance”? Emily: Sports rivalries are, like, a special case. Panel 1 Becky: There’s a boys’ camp across the lake?? Crap, Tyler, do you think they saw us skinny-dipping? Tyler: Doubtful. It was pretty dark. Panel 2 Tyler: Unless – of course! They pranked us! There was no monster! And tonight, we’ll go back and prove it! Becky: Nuh-uh. I wouldn’t go back in that lake if you paid me. Panel 3 Tyler: Learning from your mistakes now? That’s going to make you less fun, Becky. Becky: Sue me. "Sue me" is a great punchline that can be used in so many contexts. I first learned it from Gary Larson. Panel 1 Susan: Do you girls wanna be in the three-legged race together? I heard you like to run. Tyler: Hardy har har. Panel 2 Susan: Oh, but can you still do it when you have clothes on? Tyler: This is a new side of you, Aunt Susan. Panel 1 Cheerleaders: Go team, go! Beat ‘em beat ‘em beat ‘em! / Go team, go! Defeat ‘em ‘feat ‘em ‘feat ‘em! Panel 2 Cheerleaders: Call the plumber! And call the ‘lectrictian! / ‘Cause Camp Itchyfoot’s in a winning position! Panel 3 Becky: I love how we’re so loyal to this place we’ve only been at for a few days. Tyler: “Plumber”? “‘Lectrician”? What the crap? This cheer comes verbatim from the aforementioned cassette tape. I guess in order to sue me, the creators would have to first prove its existence. Panel 1 (Yelling at the boys’ camp counselors) Emily: Are you, like, blind or something? That was totally in, mmkay? Susan: Maybe if you paid attention to your own players instead of ogling ours! Panel 2 Emily (off-screen): Not that I’m like, prejudiced against blind people... Tyler: Sheesh. Adults get so worked up over sports. It’s just a game; who cares? Panel 3 Becky: I think I see David on the other team. Tyler: Really? Then let’s pulverize them. Emily: Tyler, do you, like, still have that AK-47? Panel 1 (Boy kicks a soccer ball) [POW!] Panel 2 Emily: And it’s going, and it’s going, and... oh no! That idiot boy kicked it, like, right into the lake! Panel 3 Susan: Want to go get it, Tyler? I heard you like to swim in that lake. Tyler: Okay, that’s actually pretty funny, Aunt Susan. Fine. Panel 1 (At the lake) Tyler (thinking): Don’t soccer balls float? Then why don’t I see – (off-screen): [PTOOEY!] Panel 2 (The deflated soccer ball lands at Tyler’s feet) [Plop!] Panel 3 (Back at the game) Susan: Well? Did you find it? Tyler: Anyone for chess instead? Panel 1 Emily: And the winner is... everybody! Because, like, we’re all winners! Trophies for everybody, mmkay? Susan: What?? Panel 2 Emily: Naw, just kidding. We totally, like, kicked your trash, boys. Suck it. Susan: Yeah! Suck it! Panel 3 Tyler: Sorry about that, David. David: I think the swelling’s starting to go down. Emily (off-screen): Dudettes, I’ll be in my cabin, like, celebrating. Panel 1 Susan (thinking): I don’t know how Emily’s lasted six years here without getting fired, but that ends now. Tomorrow I’ll report her irresponsible behavior. Emily: Susan? Panel 2 Emily: I just wanna say that you’ve been, like, a great friend and I’m sure we’ll have a great summer together. And I’ll try to help you find a boy or whomever, mmkay? Though honestly, boys are cray-cray. Panel 3 Emily: No offense, Frank. Frank (under bed): None taken. Panel 1 (Tyler is staring forlornly at the ground) Becky: I know it’s difficult to let go of Stanley, Tyler. But it’s for the best. This is his home. Sometimes in life we have to let go of the ones we love for their own happiness. Panel 2 Becky: He needs to make his own way in the world. He needs to travel, to explore, to find mice and mates and whatever his little snake heart desires. But even though he’s gone, he can always stay in your heart. Panel 3 Tyler (pointing): Becky, he’s still right there. Becky: Don’t ruin this moment for me, Tyler. Based on a true story. On a Boy Scout camping trip, we found a salamander and named it Sam after a girl from our church district (equivalent to a stake which is equivalent to a diocese, is what I've heard, though I don't otherwise know what a diocese is) because that was a gender-neutral name. On the last day we released it back into the wild and one guy gave a little speech like this and another guy ruined the moment by pointing out that he was still right there. Panel 1 Emily: Bon voyage, dudettes! Remember, fight the power and, like, stick it to the man, mmkay? Susan: I’ll see you around, Tyler. Tyler: Shh, I’m pretending I don’t know you. Panel 2 Tyler: Why aren’t you checking everything on your phone? Becky: Hey, yeah! I had so much fun with nature, I forgot all about that! Panel 3 Tyler: I guess this story has a moral after all. Becky: That was the only moral you got out of it? Panel 1 Alvin: Thanks for taking care of Tyler, Susan. But I heard a rumor that the other camp counselor got drunk every night. Anything to that? Panel 2 [Silence] Panel 3 Susan (on phone): Ah, no. Emily did not get drunk. Alvin: Well, that’s a relief. Hahaha, drugs.
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I was very proud of my first Fiction Workshop story. It was about a world of robots who start contracting a highly contagious computer virus, so they have to stop interfacing digitally and communicate face-to-face. Get it? It's funny because it's like Covid, but the opposite. Very subtle, sophisticated humor there. Charles and classmates loved it too. But one classmate, in his written feedback, dinged me with a PLAGIARISM WARNING! because a character in the story said the words "Life finds a way." This was, of course, an allusion to Jurassic Park that I expected almost everyone to pick up on. I wasn't trying to pass off anyone else's work as my own, and even if I had, I think this phrase is too brief and generic to legitimately claim as one's exclusive intellectual property. So I thought that was funny and I made sure that in my second story a character said the words "Clever girl." That was the high point of my second story. I'm not as proud of it. Actually, it makes me cringe and I want to burn it. In it I sort of tried to emulate what I perceived as the style of Catch-22 - a relatively flat protagonist with a simple goal just moves along from one absurd situation to the next until the story ends. And Charles said it felt like Catch-22 without being anything like Catch-22, so mission accomplished. But I wish I had finished it sooner and left myself with more time to revise it into something adequate for public consumption. During the break I wheeled my desk, which is attached to the chair, which has wheels, over to Kylie to discuss rescheduling our viewing of Return of the Jedi that she bailed on to fill out another MFA application at the last minute. And then she invited Mia or Mia invited herself, I don't remember, and that was nice since it permitted us to use Mia's TV instead of Kylie's laptop. I said she could invite the whole class for all I cared, so she did. The missionaries came over on Wednesday and roleplayed teaching me a lesson about prayer. I could have given them a real hard time, but I decided to play nice. I only asked "What if I pray and nothing happens?" and if they couldn't come up with a half-decent answer to that question, they would've had no business being missionaries. I could have hit them with some harder stuff. "This all seems like a bunch of confirmation bias to me. If you pray and get the desired outcome, that means God is real and loves you. If you pray and don't get the desired outcome, that means God is real but has a better plan because he loves you. If you feel good feelings, that's his presence; if you feel nothing, you need to be patient and keep trying. He's set up to be unfalsifiable, don't you think? And speaking of prayer, look at these Brigham Young quotes about black people." I understand B.H. Roberts played a similar trick on greenies when he was a mission president. The meeting lasted about ten minutes, and they asked if I had any less-active or non-member friends they could talk to. No, I didn't, because most of my graduate school friends have already been members. Greyson still is one, so while I wasn't as close with her as some of the others, I recognized that I could talk to her about a few things that I wouldn't talk to the others about, spiritual things that might just sound crazy to someone who doesn't believe in them even if that person is determined to be respectful. We had lunch on Thursday. I wanted to buy for both of us to thank her for her time, but she wouldn't let me. She's too nice. Last semester she borrowed my copy of Naked Barbies, Warrior Joes, and Other Forms of Visible Gender because she'd left hers in Georgia, and when she returned it I found among its pages a little handwritten thank-you card in a little envelope. Who does that? But we had lunch and talked about things and after I got off on a tangent about my distaste for the post-World War II gender roles that past church leaders taught as eternal truths and current church leaders quietly downplay, she invited me to her institute class because she had a cool teacher who said that women can decide for themselves whether or not to work outside the home. We went to the class, and a slideshow was up with the title "The Role of Intimacy in Marriage". Greyson apologized and said I didn't have to stay. I did anyway because I'll never grow if I always try to avoid discomfort. Fun fact, one of my former students was there. Greyson had never seen any Star Wars, which was even less Star Wars than Kylie had seen. I invited her to watch Return of the Jedi with us, and since I knew she was just being excessively nice in not wanting to be an imposition, I had to push a little and then backtrack from my pushiness, and she was over an hour late but she did come for the social aspect. Mia referred to it as a "watch party" and I had no idea how seriously she took that appellation until I saw the three boxes of pizza, breadsticks, Cheetos, potato chips, Pita bread, and carrot sticks she had provided for the four of us who showed up (me, Kylie, Greyson, and the guy who gave me a plagiarism warning). Greyson asked a lot of questions and Kylie answered a lot of questions like she was a lifelong fan and didn't just learn most of that stuff from me the week before. I was very impressed. And then after the movie she was like, "Wait, so who's the actual Chosen One? Is it Rey? She's not even one of the original characters. That's lame." Yes, Kylie, it really is. She made us watch the SNL Kylo Ren Undercover Bosses sketch again, so I made us watch the seagull song. I did an endowment session at the temple for an actual family name, not from my family as far as I know, but one I brought to help out a friend who doesn't have as easy access to temples. It made the experience a little more meaningful, I think. I got a really good feeling throughout and felt really affirmed in the state of mind I've chosen in response to my current trial. And maybe now this guy on the other side of the veil, Christian Friedrich Grimm, will help me with my German studies. No, of course he doesn't owe me anything for providing him with an essential ordinance to enter God's presence. It's just a funny thought I had.
P.S. Feliz Geburtstag to an estranged friend who probably isn't reading this.
Crisis struck last weekend. Prudence, which it runs out I am capable of possessing once in a while, dictates that for the time being I keep it to myself apart from a half dozen friends and all of my Fiction Writing classmates who deserved an excuse for why my second story is garbage compared to the first. For a few moments after seeing the news I never wanted to see, I tried to wrap my brain around the fact that my life and my faith were about to shatter beyond repair. Then I ran into my bedroom to pray but discovered that I couldn't speak. I tried to pray silently but discovered that I couldn't think. So my prayer was just Help me, help me, help me, help me, help me.
I reached out to this guy in the ward that I know a little bit for a priesthood blessing. I didn't want to be too much of a burden on the guys I usually ask. While waiting for him to get back to me and then waiting for him to arrive, I cooked a frozen pizza and force-fed myself half of it, despite my complete lack of appetite, because I was starving. I offered the rest to him when he arrived, and he said it would be a good idea to make himself eat, and he appeared to have an even harder time doing so than I did. He wasn't doing well. He asked if he could stick around for a while after the blessing so he didn't have to be home alone. He asked if I've ever had questions about my faith, and I outlined the most recent one in very vague terms. I didn't want to tell him about my situation because I just wanted comfort from the blessing; I didn't want to open the channels for advice that I wasn't ready to accept. And he gave me the shortest blessing I've ever gotten and I appreciated that. He cried afterward. I think it helped him more than me. So that was cool. I invited him to accompany me to Come Follow Me with people from the ward. While there, I went through mood swings and wasn't in hell the entire time. I sat there for half an hour while two girls and four guys discussed the proper care and washing of different kinds of hair, a topic that I found altogether uninteresting but still better than being home alone, and then as I was poised to go be home alone again some others arrived very late and we played Werewolf. I threw myself into it with gusto. When I figured out that my in-game lover was a werewolf, I protected her with as much zeal as I would a real-life lover who murdered people. When others falsely accused and killed me, I was only upset that it would lead to her death as well. I can be selfless like that. I didn't look forward to bedtime because past experience had given me some idea of what I was in for. I'd gotten the obligatory blessing, and I would pray, and I would get sufficiently calm and peaceful to fall asleep, and I would wake up an hour or two later in a cold sweat with my heart doing its best impression of the ungodly screaming over the bridge of Rammstein's creepy and inappropriate song "Mein Teil", and there would be no more calm or peace or sleeping for the remainder of the night. Well, I did wake up and fail to get back to sleep until the sun rose, but the rest didn't happen. I didn't feel good by any means, but I felt all right. I soon came to the realization that God was shielding me from the worst of the pain. And He continued to shield me throughout the week, and I thanked Him and prayed more and tried harder and got better. Wednesday morning I woke up from a nightmare that ruined most of my day, Thursday morning I woke up from a nightmare that ruined the next half hour, and Friday morning I woke up from a nightmare that I was able to put out of my mind right away. It's not like I'd never thought to pray for comfort before. I'd just rarely noticed any of this magnitude, no matter how hard I pleaded. I don't know what's so different this time, if the nature of the situation has made me more desperate or more deserving or what. I do know that whatever suffering remains is a part of life that I shouldn't try to avoid or expect to be exempted from. Now I feel like I'm in a good place where I haven't stopped hoping for and believing in one specific outcome based on God's previous communications to me no matter how unlikely it looks at the moment, but I'm also patient and trying to be open to any outcome and the necessary understanding that will come with it. I know, I hate having to be so vague too. I'm annoying myself. One thing I've consciously done to enhance this effect is listen to a playlist I started nearly two years ago, which has taken on ever greater significance. Sometimes, like in the mornings when I wake up feeling like a dead battery and vulnerable to all manner of negative emotions, songs like "Head Above Water" and "Echoes of Andromeda" and "Boasting" have returned to my head.
I canceled my Tuesday morning classes so I wouldn't have to get out of bed until I felt like it, which greatly disappointed my students, I bet.
My ex-neighbor and dear friend Steve drove up from Salt Lake on Monday evening. We talked a little about what happened, but mostly watched Disney+. We watched Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, and then some of my favorite episodes of The Simpsons - "Bart Sells His Soul", "Miracle on Evergreen Terrace", "The Springfield Files", "Lisa the Skeptic", "Bart on the Road", and possibly another that I forget at the moment. He went home around noon on Tuesday, which I later realized was his birthday. He gave up a third of his birthday for me. And I couldn't believe it was two years to the day since we went to see Jojo Rabbit, aka one of the finest films ever made. Where does the time go? My classmate and colleague Kylie also offered to hang out, so after our class on Tuesday I went up to ask if she was still good to hang out that evening. As soon as I started to speak, she put her hand on mine, and I thought about how USU's sexual misconduct prevention trainings told us not to touch someone without permission, even though we know full well that's not how neurotypical people live their lives. And I thought about my old friend Bracelets who used to touch me on the shoulder a lot until she saw the Temple Grandin movie and decided I didn't want to be touched. And I thought about a girl in my ward who came up to give the closing prayer after I had spoken in sacrament meeting, and touched my knee as she walked by. I think, in fairness, that this isn't just about neurotypicals vs. autistics but about women vs. men. Because women are raised to be more affectionate and nurturing, I think they can touch men's hands or shoulders or knees without these automatically coming across as romantic or sexualized gestures, whereas the reverse is not true. I remembered when a friend in high school was crying about her grandmother dying, and I needed to comfort her but I didn't know what to do but I didn't want her to think I didn't care so I finally admitted, "I'm trying to decide if I should put my arm around you or not," and that made her laugh through her tears a little so I guess it was better than just putting my arm around her. Speaking of dead grandmothers, I was at the funeral of mine a couple months ago, seated right next to my grandfather, who howled with grief a couple of times. If ever there were appropriate contexts to touch someone without permission, these were them. And it was still hard, it still rebelled against my conditioning, to put my hand on his wrist. And then I felt awkward. Should I take it off now? What if he wants to move his arm? I'm not really letting him move his arm. I envied a little Kylie's ability to put her hand on mine all casual-like just because she knew I was having a rough time. I couldn't think of anything more exciting to do than watch a movie, but fortunately for me, Kylie hasn't seen any Star Wars except for Rogue One and both of SNL's Undercover Bosses skits with Kylo Ren, so I picked the original Star Wars movie to guarantee that I would get invited back at least eight more times. She observed that Darth Vader is a jerk for kidnapping his own daughter, that stormtroopers don't aim very well, and that the use of computers in warfare was a pretty new idea in 1977 and that's probably why the movie was so popular. After the next movie, she reiterated that Darth Vader is a jerk for strangling his own men, and also reflected on the lack of women and racial diversity that's been somewhat fixed in the more recent movies. She said Princess Leia is an interesting character - specifically, it's interesting that she's a strong character but she still has to be sexualized. I hate myself for using that word twice in one post. Anyway, Kylie wasn't judging; she said the movies were fair for their time. I should have apologized in advance for what happens to Leia in the next one. She made me watch the SNL skits, and I made her watch the Robot Chicken sketch that introduced the world to Gary the stormtrooper.
I also talked to my old friend Eliana on the phone a couple times, and the first conversation mostly turned into her complaining about the Church. Kylie has left the Church too, but we have nuanced and mutually respectful discussions about it, and I look forward to reading her folklore paper about how patriarchal blessings might have roots in the Smith family's fascination with folk magic. When Eliana left a couple years ago she still believed in the Book of Mormon and stuff but didn't trust the leadership because of their past mistakes and current LGBTQ policies. Now she sees nothing good, wholesome, or true in any of it. I didn't try to argue and I hoped that my listening allowed her to let off some steam. But I kind of wanted to ask, Can you live with yourself knowing that I'm still in the Church because of you? I used to tell her about all kinds of issues that bothered my testimony, and she was so chill about all of it and confident that the Church was where God wanted her to be. She was my anchor many times. You never can tell what the future holds, can you? Anyway, we don't talk much anymore but I appreciate that she's still there for me.
For Thanksgiving, I was going to visit a nearby great aunt whom I shamefully never visit because I'm always welcome but that means I have to kind of invite myself at any given time, but she got sick. So I went to my bishop's house. Although I haven't always cast him in the most flattering light, he is a great guy. I wish I could say the same about my last bishop. Some others from the ward also showed up, and someone else in the ward had a friend who wasn't in the ward but was going to come, but he went to the wrong house so we started without him. He showed up fifteen minutes in and guess what? He was one of my students. So he saw me without a mask on and sat right next to me and that's kind of funny, isn't it? I hope he didn't take it as a personal jab when I said that I like teaching college students because if they don't want to be there, they don't show up. Today I tried really hard to pay attention in church and be open to the Spirit, and I did pretty well. I didn't even close myself off when a couple of people in Elders' Quorum said a couple of things about gender roles that made me want to stab my eyes out.
Today I've lived in Utah for ten years. On the one hand I can't believe it's been that long, and on the other hand I can't believe it's only been that long. Time is weird. I feel twenty-eight going on eighty. Now is the time to wax all poetic about this milestone, but I realized I said everything I need to say on this day last year, so I will redirect any inquiries to that post. ​I commemorated the date, though, by attempting to recreate in Spotify playlist form a CD-R labeled "Alternative" that I found on the kitchen table after my roommate moved out. This would have been in late August 2011, but as I don't remember the date I still associate it nostalgically with my Utah debut. I still have the CD somewhere, all scratched up, and someday I'll check what order the tracks are actually in and adjust the playlist to match, but what really matters is creating the playlist today so that the date next to all the tracks when viewed in the desktop app will be July 11 even though, as previously noted, July 11 is not the date I found the CD. It was on shuffle the first time I listened to it anyway, so the incorrect order here doesn't drive me crazy in the meantime. "Sad Sad City" was first.
Now I will continue to record some of the thrilling events of my life. The night of Independence Day, I set out to walk to the Temple Boulevard to watch the fireworks and subsequent fires, and it almost immediately started to rain. I was so happy. I didn't care how wet I got. Utah desperately needs rain. I watched fireworks in the rain for a bit and then suddenly I was starving, and then I saw, as tends to only happen when I stop checking my phone every ten minutes, that I had missed a message from some girl in the ward inviting everyone to get s'mores, and I was so hungry that I decided to try my luck even though I was an hour late by the time I found her house. No answer at the front door, but I saw the kitchen light was on so I went around and tried the back. She was in her backyard alone watching the fire die. We put on some more wood, I had five s'mores, and we talked from 11 to 12:45, and I suffered for that for a couple days. It continued to drizzle and it was wonderful.
The next day I went up to Idaho with some people to float down the Oneida River. As we got close, the sky became so grey that I planned to say "Do you think it will rain?" but never got a convenient pause in the conversation to do so, and then the question became moot because it rained. It rained hard. It rained buckets. It continued to rain as we arrived, got out of the trucks and got our tubes ready. It felt miserable, but again, I was so happy. Idaho desperately needs rain. I'm happy for others to be blessed as I am blessed. As it happens, the weather was perfect during most of the actual floating, with a lot of sunshine and just a bit of drizzle as the clouds remained menacingly in the background. The river flowed faster than usual. This only became an issue when I got separated from the others as the current took me off the main route to a dead end, and I got out and walked my tube along the shore back to where the current went the right way, but when I got there it was too fast and pulled me right into itself, clinging vertically to the tube and unable to pull myself up, feet hitting against the rocks. An overhanging tree branch promised salvation, then stubbornly squeezed through my fingers. I swore a bit. My experience walking barefoot on asphalt and gravel just because I can paid off, though - I had cuts on the sides and tops of my feet, but none on the bottoms. So with the exception of those five minutes, it was a good time. Technically I have a lot more time to write on this blog than I did while in graduate school, but I find week after week that I just don't feel like it. I'm relaxing, dang it. I've been reading books in preparation for my thesis, watching The Bad Batch and The Simpsons and The Chosen and Nostalgia Critic and The Legend of Zelda fan films, and studying German a little bit. While I'm hardly being the most productive person ever, I find day after day that I run out of time to do everything I wanted to do, which is a good problem to have compared to being painfully bored and lonely and having to think of busywork just to make the time go by. Anyway, that's why this post is crap. (Insert your own quip about all my posts being crap here.) What I need to do now is really set out in earnest on writing my thesis, but I've procrastinated on that just a bit. It's intimidating to start with nothing toward the end goal of a novella. I've always worked better under pressure. Summer still feels like it will never end, though with this drought and heat wave, I sure hope it will. For my birthday I went hiking up the Logan River Trail and then to Panda Express and then to Hyrum Reservoir, with guests rotating in and out as their schedules permitted and only a few stalwarts making it all the way through. This year, fed up with month after month of soul-crushing isolation, I took matters into my own hands like never before to make something happen and invite people to it instead of just hoping someone else would take care of everything - a couple of my graduate school friends helped, but I didn't ask them to or drop hints about my upcoming birthday. I had a rough plan in mind and invited them to it and then they offered their assistance. The last time I took this much initiative to plan basically anything was a surprise party for someone else years ago. I had also planned to watch the classic sci-fi "Metropolis", but we ran out of time at the beach and I decided to adapt rather than insist on a strict schedule to the point where it ceased being fun. That movie's kind of an acquired taste anyway. I had reached out to this one guy years ago because he was also autistic and needed friends, and continued to invite him to things sometimes, but I rarely saw or talked to him. I knew he was gay, but that fact almost never crossed my mind because it simply wasn't relevant to anything. I had not the slightest clue why he asked to talk to me in private when we got to the beach. He began, "Remember when you asked if I'm interested in anyone?" No, I had no memory of asking him that or anything like it. I don't ask people about that kind of thing, mostly because I don't care. But he continued before I could say anything. He said, "Well, I'm interested in you." Um. What? He hastily went on, "I know I'm probably not your type," which was true enough, and not just for the obvious reason. And it should have been the simplest thing in the world to just say, in case there was any confusion, in case whatever mannerisms caused everyone on the school bus to call me "faggot" five times a day had also given him an erroneous impression at any time, "Sorry, I'm straight" - not a strictly accurate statement, but close enough for the present intents and purposes. Yet I couldn't bring myself to say it, because it felt in that moment like such a cruel and gratuitous thing to say, a bit of knife-twisting, and I thought back almost a decade to Kelsey's attempt to comfort me after I caught feelings for her. If it helps, I've always had that problem. Straight girls. It didn't help. It destroyed my faith that God loves His children, as I imagined how much it must suck to be gay because of that very problem, no matter how accepted by society or even religion one may eventually be. So now I didn't say anything. We hugged, and I was very grateful that I'd kept my shirt on as I always do at the beach. He said, "I would have kissed you for your birthday." We let go. He said, "I'd still like to kiss you." That didn't register, but after a moment he interpreted my blank stare as consent (it wasn't) and moved in. Oh well, I thought, it's only a kiss, and I'd kiss a guy if I were an actor playing a gay character, so it's not like it's the worst thing in the world that I'll never do under any circumstances, and anyway, the few kisses I've shared with women didn't mean anything either so the difference is kind of arbitrary. I stood stiff as a board and let him do it and then we rejoined the others. That's all he's going to get from me, so I'm not sure if it made him feel better or worse. My neighbor Hailey got some pictures of me that I don't hate, that rarest of rarities. She saw me walking along the beach and made me go back and start over. I'm glad she did. Later it transpired that Hailey and Mia had both observed my contentious comments on public Facebook posts without me being aware of it. Hailey found them alarming and Mia found them amusing. So I'm still not likely going to stop.
One of the greatest birthday presents I could ask for was delivered a couple days later in the form of a 22.5-year prison sentence for Derek Chauvin over his murder of George Floyd. Though far less than he deserves, it's about as much as one can expect under current laws. I think Peter Cahill is about as fair and impartial a judge as you can get, and I'm not surprised in the slightest that his sentence didn't give either the prosecutors or the defense what they really wanted. But the fun doesn't stop here. In a few days, Chauvin and his now ex-wife begin their trial for $21,853 worth of tax evasion - yes, 1092.65 times the amount he murdered George Floyd for - and this fall, he begins his federal trial for civil rights violations in both the George Floyd case and another one where he split a (black) teenager's head open with a flashlight and pinned him down for 17 minutes for no reason. If experiencing joy as I watch this fascist pig's life get ruined is wrong, I don't want to be right. Of course, even a fascist pig has friends and family who love him. (The emotion bootlickers feel toward him isn't love - it's more akin to the mindless biological drive of a male preying mantis to let his mate tear his head off.) Chauvin's mother reminded us that he isn't Satan incarnate. She extolled his years of service as a police officer and his dedication to the job, conveniently neglecting to mention how many conduct complaints he accumulated during that time. She didn't want him to go to jail for a long time because she might be dead when he gets out. And she maintained that she believes in his innocence. Okay, so she isn't wrong to love her son or to be distraught over the situation, but I'm sorry to say that love has made her delusional. If I ever have a son who murders someone and everyone in the world sees the murder, I don't intend to show up in court to try and protect him from justice. Familial love and parental mortality are not arguments for letting people out of jail early. Chauvin, we were told, has run through what if scenarios in his mind constantly since the day of the murder. What if I hadn't volunteered to work that day, what if I hadn't responded to the call, and so on. Notably absent were the questions he actually should be asking himself: What if I had taken my damn knee off his neck? What if I had moved him onto his side like Officer Lane suggested? What if I had offered medical assistance after his pulse disappeared? What if I hadn't completely disregarded my law enforcement training and ethics? Excuse me, but are we really supposed to sympathize with a 19-year police veteran for whom nine and a half minutes isn't enough time to make a split-second decision? Are we really supposed to feel bad that he feels bad - assuming he does, though we've seen zero evidence of that? Get out of here. He's had ample opportunity to apologize and/or show some degree of remorse. He never has. Not once. And the obvious reason is that he's a fascist pig who doesn't think he did anything wrong. He did express his condolences - not an apology - to the Floyd family on this occasion. And all I could think of was a line from Kylo Ren (aka Matt the Radar Technician) on Saturday Night Live: "Hearing that Zack lost his son really struck a nerve with me. Especially since I'm the one that killed him." |
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- Amelia Whitlock "I don't know how well you know Christopher Randall Nicholson, but... he's trolling. You should read his blog. It's delightful." - David Young About the AuthorC. Randall Nicholson is a white cisgender Christian male, so you can hate him without guilt, but he's also autistic and asexual, so you can't, unless you're an anti-vaxxer, in which case the feeling is mutual. This blog is where he periodically rants about life, the universe, and/or everything. Archives
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