The Santa Fe Endeavors, Part One: Nubs

Image: D.L. Mavrikakis

When it comes to my years long recovery in regards to Agoraphobia, and my life long battle with anxiety, last week was a huge one.

Image: D.L. Mavrikakis

                                Monica And The City With The Impossible Name


Nubs and I decided we should do something. A plan was formulated the week prior. I confided in her my desire to do something that for me, would be extreme. I felt I needed to push myself and travel well outside of dusty Northwest Albuquerque. After deliberation we decided on the historic Western town of Santa Fe (or;  La Villa Real de la Santa Fe de San Francisco de Asís)

This would not be my first trip to this high desert city of "holy faith". In fact this would be my second time, having once taken an anxiety filled excursion there with my Mother a couple of years back. It was difficult and I never felt truly relaxed, although being a history nerd I was quite fascinated with it.

This, however, was an entirely different type of trip. It was twofold. A trip to share a day with someone I hold dear, as well as a therapeutic one, to push myself and my comfort zone. I had no idea that this would lead to a much bigger breakthrough mere days later.

Nubs (Monica) is precious to me and I have come to adore her. For more than a year now we have slowly become rather close. We've gone through periods where we talk substantially less, but pick back up again after a short time. I have found myself wanting to help her in any way I can. I have seen her excited about new adventures in her life, and also during times of extreme frustration with aspects of her life. We are not as close as we were (she's a busy lady) but, then again, we only recently began to talk and do things once more.

  As her friend, as someone who wants to support and help her in any way I can, and as a person who has become dear to me, she has began to have affects on me. My mood on occasion can be closely associated with hers. Two recent examples: when I heard someone had been condescending to her, and disrespected her a great deal, I became furious (for days) and protective. When she had been extremely ill, I worried constantly and all I wanted was to make sure she was OK. Thankfully, her family was there for her.

I get like this for a multitude of reasons. One of the more important ones possibly could be due to how she has been able to calm me down in moments of great anxiety, near panic even. She has had the misfortune to have seen me a few times in such a state. Yet each time she quickly tames the frightened beast within me. She soothes him, tells him to leave, and he obeys. I do not know how she does this. It is remarkable to me, the power she has. I am thankful for those times she has been there for me. So, I in turn, want to repay her kindness and for her magical ability to make me feel safe. It is only fair. But more importantly, I want to do it.

Being that we had recently began to talk and do things again as I earlier stated, we felt it would be a great idea to spend the day together, pushing my boundaries, to dance dangerously close with my bane, that Balrog of fear contained within me.

After a seemingly never ending sleepless night, I met with her Monday morning at the providers of mother's milk, of ambrosia, that place of the Gods known as Starbucks. It was not to be our only stop at one of these places that day!

We got into my trusty maroon steed, Zoe, and off we went!


Starting in Rio Rancho we drove to Bernalillo, then hopped onto Interstate 25. I had turned off the soothing sounds of Motorhead and we passed the time gabbing away about many things. The surprising thing about this part of the trip was that, well, I felt fine! I was enjoying the company too much and felt distracted. "Perhaps", I thought, "this is the reason my anxiety hadn't risen yet? That must be it."

As we neared Santa Fe there was suddenly construction on the highway! We were all corralled into one lane for several miles. I felt my anxiety climb a little and thought "here it comes" and I mentioned I was uncomfortable to Nubs. But why wasn't I panicking yet? "It must be her calming effect she has on me", I thought. We passed said construction, or trap, as I would have normally considered it to be, without any real trouble on my part. Curious...

A few minutes later we were off the highway and entering Santa Fe. Again, without serious incident. Curiouser and curiouser.



                                                            Santa Fe 

"In fact, it (Santa Fe) had been colonized 25 years (sic) before the colonials set foot at Plymouth Rock."~US History.com


The history of this city brings a giddiness to me.

Image: D.L. Mavrikakis

I promised Nubs I wouldn't get too nerdy that day when it came to facts or history of the city. That I wouldn't become Ted Mosby when he describes architecture, or Ross Geller discussing, well, anything. However...I make no such promise here! Actually I will keep it to a minimum here too. Why? Because I plan on writing a whole lot on the subject in the future (more on that to come)


Santa Fe lies 60 to 70 miles North of Albuquerque, depending on your starting point. It is the oldest capitol in the United States, having been been founded by the Spanish in 1610. It is also home to the Palace Of The Governors, the oldest continuously inhabited public building in the U.S.

Billy the Kid lived here briefly as a boy and was also held there before his trial in Mesilla, New Mexico. Madame La Tules, Milton Yarberry, Kit Carson, Lew Wallace and many others walked the streets of this little desert mountain town. Not to mention that George R. R. Martin lives here...at this moment...as I type this!


Parking just outside of the four hundred year old Plaza we immediately discovered Sock Magic, A tiny little shop dedicated to, well, socks! My love of the human hoof coverings is well known. Which means I was a tad bit excited once entering. Einstein, aliens, tacos, pizza, native art, pot leaves, bandannas and couple hundred more designs of said socks surrounded us (including T-Rex socks!). The one disappointing thing? Not enough men's socks but a plethora of knee highs. I can't wait to return to that place of magic and purchases a few pair!

Next on the agenda? Food. Constantly keeping an eye on anxiety (whether only potential or not), driving all the way, high elevation, and over stimulation in a sock store certainly makes one famished. We found a little place called The Burrito Co.. Very tasty, very filling. Very brief. We wanted to wander so we looked things up on the interwebs while we ate and then took off.

The Plaza amazes me with its small streets and the Palace of the Governors. The mixture of Spanish, Native, and Old West eras echoing through the Plaza is brilliant. Modern museums, shops, restaurants, and even a Starbucks all encased by centuries past architecture not only in style but in actuality. You don't even have to close your eyes to imagine yourself transported back to the eighteenth or nineteenth century. You can see it, staring right back at you. It is a thing of beauty.


Wandering those small streets with Nubs, in the warm Spring Sun, was quite relaxing. I felt fine but kept expecting to have at least a minor panic attack. Yet still to my surprise, nothing.

We entered a few places looking at stones, rings, gems, necklaces and such. Artistic creativity is not lacking in any way in this city. Literally "a half-mile stretch of Santa Fe's Canyon Road has over 100 galleries, boutiques and restaurants" ~Newsmax,  "making it the world's densest concentration of art galleries," according to the Four Seasons website
To our misfortune many places were closed that Monday. Most unfortunately The Palace of the Governors was one of these. A shop we wanted to get into terribly so was also closed. I do not recall the name, but it was full of fossils. We only had a teasing glimpse of what wonders may be inside according to the view we spied at their door and only window. We could see the stairs inside leading down to a treasure we would not gaze upon that day; left to merely speculate as to what we were missing out on.

Image: D.L. Mavrikakis

Near to there I found one thing I had been searching for. The plaque on San Francisco Street (one of two rival sites) claiming to be the site of the jail which once housed Billy the Kid for four months before his trial. This is important to me because I plan on doing a trip around the state looking for the sights of Billy the Kid. This is all for a book. It will be about my experience as an agoraphobic person who suffers from such high anxiety taking on this solo journey. I eluded to it at the beginning of this piece, that this day trip with Nubs was a sort of dry run to see how I dealt with it. One of several dry runs that I hope...or thought, I would be doing months down the road. But, more on that in Part 2.


We made a quick stop to Mama's Minerals, oohing and ahhing at the little wonders they had, We picked out a little stone for Nubs and a wooden Budha head for me. Of course the system was down and we couldn't actually purchase them. As most famously said by Arnold Schwarzenegger... (paraphrased) "We'll be back".

We returned to Zoe in the nick of time! Just moments to spare before our rented spot on the street had run out of its allotted quarters, giving full authority to the meter maids, to begin to bully us.



                                                  Creepy Crawlies, Pens, and....Her



Why, you may ask, would anyone go to the mall while in such a place as Santa Fe? Simple...
The Harrell House of Natural Oddities! We found this place online when shoving burritos down our gullets earlier in the day.

After some confusing directions, logical deductions, and a long quest for a parking spot, we arrived. Yes. At the Mall. Walking in we...Hey! A Starbucks!.... Leaving the coffee conglomerate we checked the interior map. While not as cool as a map of say Middle Earth, or the Westeros, it served its function by informing us as to where our destination lies.

Image: D.L. Mavrikakis

Winding our way through the halls we saw a paper shop, a pen shop and, a gun shop. All of these made our eyes widen. But we were on a mission. Nubs was dying to see some spiders! This is one of her few flaws...kidding!

Image: D.L. Mavrikakis

Image: D.L. Mavrikakis

This Bug Museum was awesome. While I take issue with those arachnids otherwise known as spiders, plotting to kill every last human, I actually find scorpions quite fascinating. They don't bother me at all and I could stare for hours.

Image: D.L. Mavrikakis

This place was full of butterflies, moths, beetles, centipedes, millipedes, cockroaches, praying mantis', stick bugs, and all sorts of other specimens. There were many live ones too. Including a tortoise that seemed to have something very important to tell us. He just couldn't find the words.

Nubs taking pictures of big ol' bugs (Image: D.L. Mavrikakis)

Nubs was completely in her element. Her excitement was barely contained around these creatures. So much so that I inquired if she ever thought of becoming an entomologist. She seemed to be intrigued by the idea. The look of such wonder, such happiness on her face was worth the whole trip alone. My friend was truly enjoying herself.

She got to hold many creepy crawlies. I touched many of them too but didn't hold any. However, I made sure my precious fingers came nowhere near the tarantulas she held. I will admit there was one that was kind of cute and I liked. Of course I was 83% sure it was casting some sort of spell on me so I would drop my guard and he could devour me. Well, 53% sure...

Nubs holding the one tarantula I didn't hate (Image: D.L. Mavrikakis)

After pretending to be wild explorers seeking out exotic and dangerous life forms we decided we'd drive back and see if we could finally buy our trinkets at Mama's. On our way out we looked at some excellent yet highly expensive fountain pens, as well as the paper shop. But, it was the gun shop, The Outdoorsman of Santa Fe where it happened. Where I saw...her. She was beautiful. She rivaled my companion, but its a different kind of beauty. Her: A Ruger New Model Blackhawk, but an odd caliber. A 30 carbine. Me: An idiot.

Now, I am no gun fanatic. I find them clumsy, loud, and that it can give one a false sense of security. Having said that, I find a certain elegance when it comes to old west style revolvers. (I find the same elegance in the M1 Grand or the M1903 Springfield, the ones in use during WWII) I have been thinking of acquiring one for many months now. One main reason is for the added protection (beyond my usual knife) when I take this trip to write my book. At times I will be in the desert, in the middle of nowhere and you never know who or what you may run into. Also, because I will possibly be spending some time in the mountains outside Silver City. Where, from what I hear, are some rather large mountain cats that love to stalk their prey (even on occasion that of the human variety). This, would be another appropriate time to have a gun.

Not the actual gun but one exactly like it (image from gunauction.com)

 She was priced at an unbelievably low amount. About $150-$200 less than I've been seeing. She would not last at that price. I checked my account and was more than substantially short. Even for the $100 layaway. Could she possibly be there in two weeks when I can (sort of) afford the down payment for layaway? Unlikely but I'm going to have to chance it. We looked at some other guns and Nubs liked a few herself. I'm sure she wanted one too. Not today, I guess.

We returned to Mama's and were able to buy our stuff, then decided to head back to Albuquerque, get something to eat, and then head toward our respective homes.

We accidentally took the wrong road but it also headed to where we eventually needed to be. Bad news? It was rush hour and there were traffic drums for miles. It was exceedingly slow and I was sure this is where I would begin to panic. The anxiety I ended up with was the strange version. It's the anxiety about getting anxiety! For those not in the know...those both suck but are two drastically different kinds of anxiety. Yes, they run parallel to one another and at some point can tragically merge. However this did not happen with mine. Once again I was attributing all this to Nubs' ability to calm me. It has been a proven remedy in the past. So, it is easy to reach the same conclusion now.


We spent the time back talking of many things but we kept going back to the guns. This would be in the forefront of my mind for a couple of days. I couldn't get rid of it. So much so that I ended up a few days later borrowing some money from a friend so I could go get her.

Dinner was cancelled due to an important phone call to Nubs. It was the first time I have seen her furious. So naturally I got pretty pissed off too. It didn't ruin our day but it put a big damper on the end of such a wonderful day, my best day in what seemed to be ages. However, it mattered not, because Nubs and I were going back up that Thursday!


 Or, so I thought...



To be continued soon in The Santa Fe Endeavors: Clarice, Part 2



Thank you for your time.

David

Maggie

I am surprised to see all the average reviews on Maggie. To me this film is quite beautiful. 

It is a vastly different take on the Zombie genre. I understand why people may have a problem with it. It is too slow for some and not exactly scary, which may detract for hardcore fans of the genre. They may also be unsatisfied with the ending. I, however, thought it was perhaps the right one and at the right time; one of only two possibilities I felt could work.

Maggie is not about gore, but about emotion.  The emotional impact on a father who is impotent to provide help to his daughter, choosing to be there as she slowly reaches her inevitable end. And it is about the emotional impact on a far too young girl who is highly aware it is only a matter of time before she is lost to this frightening disease, her humanity literally decaying away.

Arnold Schwarzenegger is superb in this role.  This is perhaps the  best he's ever been; a bona fide "actor". And Abigail Breslin is wonderful as the doomed and frightened girl trying to live out her last days, and in a few cases, to say goodbye. 

It may not be perfect for many, but I suggest you watch it if the concept intrigues you. It will sadly either become a hidden gem tucked away in cinematic history to be rediscovered too late, or a cult classic. 

"Traditional Values"

Over the last thirty six hours I have seen the phrase "traditional values" appear on my feed quite often. It has been thrown out once again owning to the Supreme Court's ruling on "gay" marriage. I have never understood this phrase as an argument.

Traditional values held that it was okay to own another human being. To take them from their homes, to keep them in chains, to split up families, to whip them.

Traditional values held that interracial couples should not marry. In fact the idea was so disgusting to some that they felt the need to teach interracial couples a lesson. Usually in the form of beatings and sometimes outright murder.

Traditional values looked at children as commodities. We would marry at the age of fourteen, then thunk out as many kids as we could in order to help on the farm, family business, or send them off to work in factories, on the streets, or perhaps the mines.

Traditional values held that women should not vote.

Traditional values held that blacks should not be citizens of the united states, or be allowed to vote.

Traditional values sometimes would lead to the firing from one's job, beatings, murder, ostracism, jailing, or numerous other from of denigrating and degrading treatment of Blacks, Homosexuals, Women, and to virtually every minority.

All of these were mostly justified by a religion we decided to interpret a certain way. We held these values as perfectly acceptable, natural, and legal.

"Bigot: a person who is obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her own opinions and PREJUDICES; especially : one who regards or treats the members of a group (as a racial or ethnic group) with hatred and intolerance" ~ Merriam-Webster

These are all bigoted values. They have seeped through the fabric of time, and within our culture are in some cases still held. Many don't even realize that what they say, or that their actions, are bigoted. In fact hey will vehemently deny it. We have become comfortable in such ways and it is hard to change. It is difficult to admit when we have been in the wrong. So, we scratch and claw to hold onto traditional values (our prejudices), not even understanding we are doing so. We will hide behind our religions, beliefs, and politics. These beliefs and ideologies probably don't make us right, they make us assholes.

You don't have to be filled with hate to be a bigot. It is by your words and actions that will place you in that category, whether you realize it or not.

In the past several days, some of us have refused to see what a symbol has come to mean, regardless of what it originally held, it has changed. It changed a long time ago and we should accept that.

" 'The Confederate Flag is just a symbol of states’ rights.' Bullshit. And the Swastika is just a Tibetan good luck charm." ~Robin Williams

Some of us refuse to understand that an entire group of our fellow citizens have not been treated equal. We are supposed to be free in this Nation. We are supposed to be equal, and yet we have not been. We have been treating minorities and the GLBT communities as second class citizens. This is why there are such things as "Pride" events. This is why they state for the world to hear, "I'm proud!".

As white America we have never been told for generations by the majority that we were worthless, subhuman, abominations, unnatural, weak, and a million other horrible things. It is something we cannot fully understand. A few of us pretend to, but we are fooling ourselves.

I am elated that yesterday we have taken one massive step towards equality for all. It is a shame that some people seem to have a problem with such an idea.

I expect some wedding invitations in the future. Even if I cannot attend, just seeing the invitation in the mail will bring a smile to my face and will remind me of the progress we have made as a society.

Love is love, regardless of the person you want to share your life with.

Now, can we just say "marriage?"

In preparation: Research, Research, Research.

I have spent the last two months inundating myself with the Lincoln County War and specifically Billy the Kid. I've been scouring books, websites, documentaries, and movies about William H. Bonney and I still have several books to pick up."What then", you may ask? Well, I will begin re-reading every single one of them.

During my research I found and joined a wonderful Facebook group called The Lincoln County War and Billy the Kid. It has been the perfect Facebook group for me and my project, and for my general interest in this subject alone. I've had the pleasure of getting to know several people within the group. Roy Haws, Gordon Fikes, Marcelle Brothers, Nicole Maddalo Dixon, and Drew Gomber are shining examples of the people I have met on there (Online, not in person yet). They have been invaluable to me during this research phase for my book. I know they get tired of the same old questions from newbies such as myself, but thankfully they haven't taken out their frustrations on me and my ignorance...yet.

I have been doing much note taking and outlining for the book and there's some content written in the initial chapters I have. I slowly get a little done here and there but it is a long process. Unfortunately I can only go so far with the writing at this point. A part, or the major part, of this book is/will be based on a trip around New Mexico (& a dip into Arizona?), visiting all the key places where The Kid had been, and hold historical value to him. The trip and that part of the book is about how I, as a recovering agoraphobic person with a rather sizable anxiety problem, deals with this solo journey. Regardless as to how many attempts at, whether one continuous trip or several small ones, or how long, is what is important and the true story. The history of the places I travel to, and The Kid himself, are the other parts to it. They are my focus.

I am still unsure of when I will start my crowdfunding campaign. I will get to that most likely after some more researching which means it will not be for at least a few more months. Once I get a final list of the places I need to go, where I will stay, how long I'll be at each place, fuel estimates, tour/interview with possible museum costs, and a better understanding of other tangibles such as self-publishing costs (if that's the route I go) as well as some things to pick up along the way for the incentives of certain donation levels in the campaign, I'll finely be ready to jump off that cliff. This aspect scares me nearly as much as the trip itself! Why? Because without the story of the journey, there is no story. And though I love to learn, and love history, I would have done all this research and planning for nothing.

This whole project just feels right, if you understand my meaning. I finally have something that is keeping me busy, is important to me, and is giving me purpose. It is also incredible because I wouldn't have been able to even comprehend or think of such a thing for myself just a few month ago. Sure, I am frightened, and have a great deal of stress, but for once it is a positive anxiety and stress as opposed to the kinds that lead me down dark mental corridors causing me to isolate myself from the world, where I remain in constant fear for my sanity, and safety. This feels like the beginning of a version of myself that makes me happy to be in the world once again. One that hopefully brings pride to myself and my loved ones. One that will hopefully inspire others who have suffered with the same issues as I have, letting them know that there is hope for people like us.

I will admit that the reason I wrote this little blog was in part because I had hit a wall and having trouble writing anything specifically for my book. This is basically a way to step away from it, yet still be working on it in some way...if that makes any sense.

Before I go, I would like to say that if you have any interest in Billy the Kid you should check out the website About Billy the Kid. It is a great source and a perfect starting point to anyone who wants to research The Kid, be it seriously or just for general interest and curiosity.

I have to thank Nadine Grip for sending me a few books for my research, and I also have to thank Roy Haws for sending me a copy of his book Brushy Bill ... Just Another Billy the Kid Tall Tale? It is one of the few times where Betteridge's law of headlines (usually attached to article headlines) does not apply! This is book is for the people who have seen Young Guns II a few too many times, or are conspiracy nuts and believe the story of Brushy Bill and that he was actually Billy the kid, never having died by the hand of Pat Garrett in July of 1881. I am no fan of giving him (Brushy) recognition but this is a book you need to read if your sense of historical reality is skewed when it comes to this issue.

Thanks for your time

David

Preparing To Toast Marsh Melons In The Undiscovered Country: An Apologist's Remembrance Of Spock And The World Of Trek.

“I have been, and always shall be, your friend.” ~ Spock          

There are many things in life that we become irrationally attached to. There is no rhyme or reason as to the selection of the objects we feel a deep rooted connection. Be they a song, a person, a character, or our childhood comfort blanket we still secretly keep tucked away after all these years, we simply become bonded with them.

Some of these attachments are immediate. My life long crush on Alyssa Milano, or my debilitating weakness for redheads are two prime examples. Others, slowly build over time, becoming stronger and stronger over the passing years. This for me was the case of my attachment to Leonard Nimoy. Or rather should I say, for right or wrong, my attachment to Spock? It first began as a small child when my Mother and Grandfather would force me to watch the original Star Trek. Why did they torture me!. Then, a couple of years later by the time I discovered Star Trek: The Animated Series I was more than willing to get up all by my lonesome, far before the Sun on a Saturday morning to see the adventures of the crew of the Enterprise whilst munching on cinnamon sugar toast.

However, admittedly at a certain point, and for a few years, I became distracted by the phenomenon known as Star Wars. At that age Star Wars was much more exciting. In 1982, however, that all changed. 

                                                                      The Wrath Of Khan

When The Wrath of Khan came out I realized how important Spock was to me. I was already discovering a love of science at the time thanks to Carl Sagan's Cosmos: A Personal Voyage. Suddenly all those episodes of Star Trek came back to me, remembering Spock's devotion to logic, and to what I would learn later, critical thinking. I now began to understand the importance of these things. How to think things through, coming to the logical conclusion and acting accordingly. Sometimes it was to communicate with something, or someone, you do not understand before you throw the first punch, or phaser shot. Other times it was in order to keep yourself from jumping to the wrong conclusion, from allowing yourself to be fooled by exaggerated claims that in some cases could be harmful to you or others. Or perhaps it was to help you conclude that the needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few...or the one. To understand that your ultimate sacrifice will save countless others.

The death of Spock, his sacrifice, I found mesmerizing and brave. It stuck with me for a long time. I have seen such things before in film, literature, and even the daily news, but seeing Spock on the silver screen fade away while his friends look on on horror, unable to rescue him even though he is merely a few feet away? It changed me. I had seen death twice in my life before then, and this felt just as real to my ten year old self.

                                                                         The Final Frontier

The Final Frontier is one of my favorites of the Trek films. Not because of the quality, mind you. but when you use it as a study into the friendship between Spock, Kirk, and McCoy, it becomes a fascinating story. I have been extremely close to a few people, but am unsure if I have ever been as close to anyone in the way those three were to each other. It was that band of brothers mentality, that experience (or experiences) that bonded people together greater perhaps than even any blood bond could be. They have been through too much, seen much of the galaxy in great detail, and been a part of an in-depth Trek history.

To me, that was very key. This is when Star Trek far surpassed Star Wars for me. It was a fuller and wider universe with characters I found to be more rounded. It became science fiction's version of Tolkien while Star Wars was more of the lesser world of Lewis, with its borrowed characters and far too choked with allegory for my taste. Like Tolkien's work Trek had a deep and well developed history with languages and tangible worlds. You could practically study these things in an academic way, and indeed eventually many have.

As a vague mythology taking place outside of our world, in fact far away from our place in the universe, Star Wars is great (I do tend to think of Wars as more science fantasy than science fiction). As an historical and human mythology spanning not only our past but our future, Trek outweighs Wars immensely. As a nerd I love both and hold them dear. I just don't let my adolescent self dictate why I prefer something slightly more than the other.



                                                                          S'chn T'gai Spock


"Logic is the beginning of all wisdom, not the end." - Spock

Captain Kirk may have been a stud and brilliant commander. Bones may have been the best Starfleet doctor, wrapped in a gruff cynical outer shell with a grumpy disposition but at heart, a true softy. And Scotty may have been a mischievous fun-loving engineer with the penchant for lying to his captain. However it was Spock who kept it all together. He was the one that saw the whole picture, guiding his captain and friend to hopefully make the correct decision. With his logic and a nearly zen like quality he could keep the captain and crew from rushing in or losing control. With his well hidden humor, a bad habit picked up by those illogical and emotional humans, he could deceptively lighten the mood in most situations.

Spock was a scientist, a scholar, a leader, a commander, an ambassador, a warrior, and most importantly in the end, a peace maker. All these thing were also represented in Leonard Nimoy, the man who portrayed the character. A polymath, Nimoy dabbled in everything. He served in the Army Reserves. He had an MA in education. He was an actor, a singer, a writer, a photographer, and a director,

He said that playing the role of Spock so often, due to the long days and weeks during the series, it eventually began to influence his own private personality.

"To this day, I sense Vulcan speech patterns, Vulcan social attitudes and even Vulcan patterns of logic and emotional suppression in my behavior."~ Leonard Nimoy

Nimoy was also a strong supporter of the feminist movement and equal rights. His Full Body Project drew much attention. I wonder how much of the influence of Spock shaped his views or how much of it was all Nimoy from the outset? I don't think it truly matters. He and the character he created have, and will have, a great and everlasting impact on the world. They both changed lives for the better.

God speed, Mr. Nimoy and Mr. Spock, I hope you find enlightenment in Sha Ka Ree.

Update on my projects including an exciting new one.

I thought I would bring the three people who read my "blog" up to date on what is going on with my projects. I know it has been quite some time since I have written anything on here. Why? Well....

First, the long running projects:

                                        Villainous Rational (tentative title)

The last time I wrote on my highly neglected blog I was informing you about a four part series on villains I was developing. I am still working on it semi-actively and am enjoying the subject a great deal. Recently I have found, and have been exchanging emails with, a writer from Santa Fe who has worked on a story about one of the villains I will be focusing on. I am hunting down material for that character but it's taking some time finding this particular se7en part comic series (based on a movie)
I have no deadline ( perfect for a person who suffers from what I do) which means it will be done when it's done. To paraphrase Gandalf; 

                                  "A Writer is never late, nor is he early. He finishes precisely when he means to."

                                          My comic

I am still working on it but have begun to look at it from a different angle. I take it out on occasion and go through some things. I expand the outline, work on characters, and work the script for issue #1. I am in no rush.


                                          Poker book

I actually have two poker books I'd like to do. One is an adaptation of a famous book, and the other is more for fun. When I find the time and I am in that mindset I will return to the second one. The other I am not so concerned about.

                                          Short stories


I easily become bored. My mind wanders at incredible speeds and is always fifty steps ahead of me. Unfortunately I'm not quick, nor smart enough, to keep up with it or use it to my advantage.  
  I have many short stories started. Sometimes I say "fuck it" and never intend to go back to that particular one. Sometimes I realize it belongs in a different world but am unsure of what that is. A few times I realized that a story I'm working on, specifically the main character, is in fact a part of the comic I am slowly piecing together. All these things keep me from working on any particular story for very long. It's as though.... look! a kitty!


                                       Crimson and Covers


     

   This is a project I am truly in love with. This is the "radio" show I started working on a long time ago. It is dedicated to cover songs of every genre, by artists of every genre. The first episode was put together months ago but due to my own ineptitude and the fact computers are my mortal enemies, I have been unable to finalize it as of yet. 
I have several shows already planned out and ready for me to record my DJ(?) parts, but until I figure what I did wrong they will also have to wait.  I do manage to post videos from time to time on the Facebook page.



                                      


                                        Second Breakfast

           

         Huh. I haven't even thought of this in quite some time. Second Breakfast is a little music project I would like to do. Basically me with no talent (bad voice and simple bass guitar) writing a song on occasion and having some friends add guitar or other instruments to it. This would be done long distance, so who knows what it would end up sounding like or how frustrated I would become?


                                  

My newest and most personally challenging project 


Okay. Some background is in order in case you do not know me well. 
I have been battling anxiety and depression for twenty five years. These things developed into agoraphobia around fourteen years ago. It has been a horrible experience and close to fatal at my darkest times. I am vastly improved but have quite a ways to go. I work hard at changing my life back around, to function as normally as I can.

I have been in contact with the founder and editor of a small and new online magazine out of England called Chucktown. We started discussing an idea I have for a series of articles. I would be following a certain historical Old West icon through my current home of  New Mexico. I would be interviewing the people of these small towns, getting their perspective of life there and of the history of this man. 
The history, sites, and the people who now occupy these historical towns would merely be a backdrop. The real story would be about me, an agoraphobic man, taking this solo journey around the state. About whether I can even complete any or all of it. I am only just beginning to travel locally around the west side of Albuquerque and Rio Rancho without total fear or panic attacks. Yet within the next couple of months I am willing to jump into the deep end of the pool, uncertain if I can even swim. This both excites and terrifies me. 

I have also been in contact with a well-known historian who has been extremely helpful. He offers guided tours in the town where much took place. I would like to do this as well as interview him. These things, and the journey itself, are not free, or even cheap.

I will most likely be doing a funding campaign for this journey as I am not being paid for this by Chucktown. This is something I feel I need, and have to do. It is a huge undertaking but I have to try to push my frightened self further than ever before. After all of this I will then compile and expand these articles into book form. My hope would be this could benefit someone who suffers from the same thing. To let them know it is possible to take their lives, at least a good part of it, back. Also, I would hope to finally support myself with writing. Social Security is not a way to live. Getting off of it, doing better mentally, and doing something I love in order to support myself is the dream. A dream that once seemed impossible. Now? It is starting to feel that it is not only possible, but that I am on my way to actually doing it.


I thank you for your time.

David


Post Script. 

If any are interested in helping me let me know. I could also use guidance on what funding site would be best.

And if any artists out there would like to work with me on the comic, let me know. I would love to collaborate on it.


Update: September 7, 2015

I have decided I will not be doing the project for Chucktown owning to changes they have gone through. I fully intend on continuing with this project, however, it will be solely for a book.

I have put all my other projects on hold for this but have also added a project. I would like to write an article for True West Magazine. I have picked my subject and have frustratingly been researching. I am in the process of writing two versions at the same time and may add a third. Why? Because I am unsure of the angle I wish to do this story. I figured I would give myself a few options. 

That's all for this update.

Thanks for your time.

Villainous Rationale: Introduction

 My favorite villain is not my favorite type of villain.

The villain who stays with me, even through the many interpretations outside of the comics by several actors, and who without a doubt is my favorite: Joker.
He is chaos personified. Save for the The Dark Knight film, he is insane and yet seems to know it. Which leads to an interesting question. If he knows he is crazy, then is he truly crazy, or rather a complete entity of evil? However, this is not a question to answer at this time. This is about the best type of villains.

To me, the best villains are the ones who seem to be driven by "legitimate" reasons. Their rationale for the terrible things they do can be understood by most anyone. Sometimes it is even to the point where we as an audience, or reader, may find ourselves cringing at the fact that we may, regretfully, understand the logic. That perhaps we could be swayed by the arguments into accepting the horrible things he or she has done. That is also the brilliance to some of these characters. They are truly multidimensional and they, or most, contain the skills in leadership and communication that leads others to accept those means that are being justified.
Among them is also the villain where it appears they have no true control. Circumstance, weakness, or even necessity coupled with an already delinquent personality can envelope someone where there is no escape from evil.

Let me be clear, I'm not referring to the anti-hero. An anti-hero is a central character that does less than heroic things. He would just as soon kill you as look at you if it was in his best interests, or an easy solution.


Over the next few weeks I will be doing a four part series where we will examine three specific Villains, and one grouped category.

These will be

Villainous Rationale:

The Addiction Of Gollum
The Abuse Of John Doe
The Genocide Of Magneto
The Nature Of The Beast

I hope you will join me in the examination of these characters and find it interesting.
Finally, who is your favorite villain, and more importantly, why?