Monday 31 December 2012

You had to be there

Here's a poem I thought up while swimming, thought I'd share.

The other week, when it started to snow
Something hilarious happened
Now, how did it go?
Ah, yes, you see it all transpired
As I was walking the street and a car backfired
The sudden noise caused me to look up and stop
Just as a man came hurtling out of a shop
It turned out the man was a desperate armed robber
And he was hotly pursued by a vigilant copper
The chase, it seemed should have been but a trice
But the policeman happened upon a stray patch of ice
He flipped right over and banged his head
And when I rushed over to help, he was certainly dead
And that's the whole story
But you're starting to stare
So I'll smile and just say
"You had to be there"



Saturday 29 December 2012

New year

So it's the new year soon and people keep on asking me what I'm doing to celebrate.

I'm doing fuck all.

Not because I'm lazy or unsociable (well not completely) but because I've never seen the point in it.

Arbitrarily celebrating the change from one date to the next has never held any allure for me.

-Party!
-What's the occasion?!
-It's wednesday!

People say it's to celebrate surviving one more year, but we already have birthdays for that. If they mean us as in humanity then they should take another look, humanity isn't two thousand or so years old, it's millions if you believe evolution, so it's pretty damn obvious that we aren't going anywhere.

Its just one step up from thinking "i didn't die today" every time you go to sleep, we shouldn't even dwell on it, surviving is one of the only things you can do with zero effort so to celebrate it is to celebrate mediocrity, and another pointless endeavour we cling to.

So what else is there? A chance to drink and be rowdy? It all seems so immature and anodyne to celebrate the most meager things (who gives a fuck about saint patrick's day? You don't even know who he was do you?) and it seems like people are only interested in the drinking part, not the thing theyre supposedly celebrating so we might as well throw it out completely in favour of calling it "drinking, shouting night".

Someone said to me it's a chance for new beginnings, but who has ever stuck to their new year's resolution? Do you lie awake at night kicking yourself because you promised you'd eat less chocolate at the end of the last year? No, there's nobody keeping score or making sure you stay true to your promise, its just another reason to feel guilty about doing what you want with your life, as is your right. And why choose this time to male a change? If you're unhappy about something, change it today, don't wait to change your smoking habits or use of foul language, use some self control and stop doing those things. And go to the gym while you're at it.

Finally, someone said it is a chance to hope the next year will be better than the last. Despite the fact this means you'll always see the events of the last year in a negative light, this means you're just wishing for good things to happen to you.

That's called religion, so go fuck yourself.

Happy holidays!

Tuesday 25 December 2012

Christmas wishes

It's christmas! That's the sound of hypocritical atheists singing festive songs about a messiah they fervently deny the existence of, mixed with the drunken rantings of working class people trying desperately to escape reality for one fleeting moment and underpaid teenagers totalling up your myriad of purchases of festive bullshit and ill-thought-out gifts for people you despise to unwrap on a day that was viciously misappropriated from an even older religion in the name of bigotry and genocide!

Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la!

And here's a poem:


Christmas wish.

By S.M.Curd



Every christmas I dream of you

When the nights are still and cold

I lie awake and count the hours

And feel ever so old



It's warm and bright

And holds me tight

And all around is gold



But there's a chill in the air

And now I despair



The clock ticks eerily

And you dance so merrily

And flutter so joyfully

Out of my reach, not mine to hold



As when I'm awake in the dark

And the candles grow dimmer, and calm

And at christmas I'll toast

And smile over the roast

But what I want the most

Is a christmas to spend in your arms.



Sunday 23 December 2012

The story of Bedlam part one

Bedlam?


People who know me well (so hardly anyone) know that I've been toying with an idea for a story for some years now. I've written half of the story, scrapped it, rewritten the first chapter in a better style, abandoned it again, so that I might first hone my writing skills, and here we are.

Bedlam wasn't just an idea that I came up with off the top of my head, it was an idea that started small and evolved to what it is now. In a nushell it's a city secluded from the rest of the world. A town built in a wasteland around a humongous bomb. The inhabitants have no idea why they are there and have no contact with the outside world due to humongous walls surrounding the town on all sides. Make of it what you will, a study in seclusion, a pastiche of society, the fragility of peace and the first world or just the crazy imaginings of a twenty-something year old hermit (that's me, by the way).

One day I'll write that book, it's depressing, shocking and an unhappy tale of two young people trapped in a town that hates them (metaphorically speaking) but what may be more entertaining in the short term is just how this town came about so I decided to chronicle it here. It spans a few years, a mental breakdown or two and a few failed relationships. So let's get started;

Secret of The Ancients, my magnum opus, will be chronicled at a later date.

When it all started


It all began when I was working in SPAR, the crappy convenience store. I had to smile and pretend like I gave a flying fuck about customer's needs and wait for ages whilst they fished around in their pockets for loose change to buy cigarettes or bottles of cheap brandy to fuel their addictions, and I found myself wishing that I could just tell them that I thought they were scum and that if they were hit by a bus on the way home it would be a net gain for the world.

Joel - he says what we're all thinking/ Faye - she's sweet, sensible and a bad influence.


Okay, perhaps not so harsh as that, but I wanted to tell them to hurry the fuck up and that I couldn't care less about how the price of a tin of soup was different to the sticker price by two pence. I imagined a world in which people could act how they wanted, if you were having a bad day it would be okay not to smile and if you were pissed off you wouldn't have to smile because your contract says you have to. And thus the town was born.

It was a place with all pretence stripped away and people said it like it was. There was truth in advertising and people acted stupidly because of their own stupidity, like not being able to sue a company for not putting a warning label on their product. It's silica gel, used to keep packaged goods dry, you don't need a warning to know not to eat it but there is one because some dumb shit did.

"Help Wanted" episode one. It was ugly and wooden but introduced Joel and Faye.

Help Wanted


The first iteration was to be made whilst I was dabbling in flash animation from 2008-200. I made a short animation (it took fucking ages and was tedious and arduous) called "Help Wanted". It was about two people, a man named Joel and a woman named Faye, who were to work in various roles and inevitably get fired over and over for speaking their minds and treating the annoying general public in the manner they deserve. I made the first episode, set in an unnamed department store and had the pair cause an old man to have a heart attack and a five-year old to be tackled by a security guard because they were interrupting their conversation. (Trust me, it was funny on paper but the execution was wooden and involved awkward pauses and only one camera angle)

He probably deserved it.


The series was to evolve, I had drafted more episodes that were sleeker and harder-hitting, involving recurring characters, improved visuals and jokes but they never got past the design stage. (I learned that I am NOT an animator. I am a writer) so the series kinda died on its feet and the first episode was never published due to horrific errors in the programming stage that made the file far too big to be usable. After some time, I sketched a coffee shop, called "bucks coffee" that would feature in a later episode (and become Joel's coffee stand in the Bedlam novel) and made an animatic (a rough storyboard with sound) in the hopes of working with an animator in order to make the series go further.

Someone liked the idea and put me in contact with a man named Jordan Duchynz... something like that, under the screenname of Duchednier. He was an excellent artist and agreed to make something with me. We decided to make a shorter animation to test the water and it was here that Bedlam, the town, was born.

Warning labels was pithy, funny and had a message.

Warning Labels


A short minute-or-so long piece about warning labels (entitled "warning labels") which was set in this as yet unnamed town was created and won an award for best daily submission on the website "newgrounds.com", pretty much the only place online that caters to amateur animators who use adobe flash (commonly called flash animations). The piece was written and visuals designed by myself, with Jordan putting in the "leg work" and animating it. I felt throughout that he was expecting to share the animating with me, but I simply didn't have the talent or knowhow to be of any use.


Sadly, shortly after I had designed an episode linking "warning labels" to the "help wanted" series, Jordan contacted me with a very odd link to a video. The video was about this meta-faith thing called "the secret" which in a nutshell is the belief that all successful people know something that makes them successful and other people don't know this "secret". It seeks to educate people and promises to make them successful too. I told him exactly what I thought of this (bullshit, incase you hadn't guessed) and shortly afterwards Jordan told me that we wouldn't be working together any further. The thing was, I thought that he was trying to make a joke or simply asking my opinion, I had no idea that a grown adult could believe in something so ridiculous and not be institutionalised. Turns out he thought it was true and the reason for his being a good animator and was upset that I didn't feel the same way. Sometimes I wish I had gone along with it as we made quite the team but then again, I don't like lying to people or to myself so maybe it was for the best.

Warning Labels was unwittingly set in Bedlam. It was here that the visual style of Bedlam was born, as well as the bleakness, cynicism and some of the town's main locations and characters.

What happened next


Shortly after publication of "Warning Labels" I wrote this on my Newgrounds account. nothing came of it but it helps highlight  what was going on at the time:

Info time!
The town warning labels is set in is "Bedlam", a city of restraint and freedom, a contradiction i know but read on:
Bedlam is a growing town being constructed around a gigantic bomb, whether the bomb is active or not is unknown and the residents seem not to care. the knowledge that death can come at any time gives people an uncaring attitude and they act however they want all the time. people's true feelings are released and whether they are crushed by depression or elated with vindication is up to them.
The main corporation running the town is the Rappy corporation, an uncaring faceless company determined to keep the townspeople blissfully ignorant as it sucks their money and privileges out of them, forbidding travel out of the town but keeping crime levels low through constant surveillance.
I'm hoping to introduce the town and it's inhabitants in more depth with future projects, and for people interested in seeing more - the next project is titled "Bedlam: Help wanted" and is in production now, watch this space!
Dil

I ditched the Rappy corporation idea once I realised how it wasn't corporations, but people and their own idiocy that made people miserable. It's not a corporation's fault that you're broke and feel insignificant and unattractive, it's your fault because you spent all of your money, aspire to something you can't be and think you need to look a certain way to feel good about yourself. Live the way you want to, not how the media says you should.

To be continued...


So that's what I have on the origin of Bedlam so far, there is more to come and I'll post the next part soon. Watch this space.

Wednesday 19 December 2012

The butcher

Here's a short something I wrote in my creative writing classes.

We were told to describe a person, a butcher to be specific. Whilst everyone was writing about balding middle-aged men in an apron, handing out pork chops or sweating over a pig carcass in a walk-in freezer, I was going the other way and describing a man called "the butcher".

Just goes to show how against the grain I like to think. I always stretch the definition of the task and it's made me quite popular in my course.

..............

They called him the butcher, but you wouldn't think it to look at him. He was a thoroughly well-to-do man in his late thirties, dressed smartly and to all was affable and adept. He had a wonderful penchant for the violin and spent his weekends volunteering at the local homeless shelter washing blankets and collecting money in a tin by the railway station. The problem was that he had a character fault, minor though it was, in that whenever the sun went down he just couldn't stop killing. The voices in his head bargained for him to stop saying "now, pete, you know these people don't deserve it, go have a mug of lemon tea and watch that nice movie about the holocaust again" but he would block them out by whistling jingles from television adverts. No, you wouldn't think it to look at him that this selfless civil servant had over a score of dismembered body parts hidden about his home, but after all, don't we all have a few skeletons in our closet?

Holy fuck.

Okay so it's been a year since my last post so to sum up, it's been an utterly miserable year.

Same, cheerful me. Eh?

Well I've had my heart broken, sophia is out of my life and I hate that I pushed her away, I was made redundant, I became suicidal and cut myself over fifty times, I've been dating some crazy women that don't fill the void and although I've been writing more it isn't anywhere as good as I know I can do.

So in conclusion I know now that I need someone around to keep me strong. Im just not strong enough to stand by myself.

Im not entirely sure who I am anymore. Dil was a good person but I don't feel like I can live up to his legacy. Dil encapsulated a new me, and although he was flawed he looked the way I could be proud of and had friends that made me happy, since moving back to winchester, being Sam again has been a huge failure. I try to be honest and open and I get it thrown back in my face.

Anyway, it's probably time I got to the point. Im going to TRY to post often and include some of the short stories/poems I've written and maybe some things on my novel. My sketches might be possible but most likely will be photo'd from the page with my phone. Scanning them is a lot of effort for nasty scribblings. Anyway, watch this space.

Sam