A project in the works...

So, I wrote all this stuff and have about 60 seconds of animation to go with it, but then, as often is the case, I realized that I can't write believable dialogue. That was about a month or two ago. I haven't really worked on this since then. I can't really make my pilot episode until I have the voice recording done, and I can't do the voice acting until I have dialogue that isn't so stupid and amateur. Hopefully I'll just suck it up and start working on it again soon, even with the crappy dialogue, but just in case any ambitious writers out there happen to read this; Join forces with me! I need a wee bit of help...





“The Unexamined Life…” [Working Title]

Possible titles
“The Unexamined Life…[is not worth living]” – Socrates
“[man is]…The Cruelest Animal” – Nietzsche
“[life is]… A Zoo In A Jungle” – Peter Devries
“Rough-Draft” – maybe I should just call it that…

Project
Cartoon Series… I’ll either make one fifteen minute long pilot episode, or fifteen or so 3 to 4 minute long short cartoons for the web. Even the most of my animated projects are like three minutes long, it won’t be hard to make it that long with the same intro and credits for each one every episode / Recycling animations and art of characters and settings each episode / using a lot of dialogue with limited animation as opposed to no dialogue and lots of animation.

Show Aim
Use show to bitch and rant about America and Americans. Each episode can get progressively crazier and more far-stretched as the storyline delves deeper into retarded conspiracy theories. At the end of the season it could get to the point of New World Order concentration camps and all hysteria and the world could be destroyed. That could leave season two open for a setting of a post apocalyptic future.

Show Synopsis
A zombie moves in with a vampire and a werewolf. All kinds of zany cookieness ensue. Zombie is a stupid jackass and vampire is cool intellectual. The classic “odd couple” scenario… Werewolf can just be the funny one or something? The house they live in is a big stereotypical haunted house/mansion awkwardly located right in the middle of a major U.S. city [perhaps a generic Manhattan].

Generic Episodes Outlines
What’s Wrong with Americans:
1. Pilot
2. Pharmaceuticals
3. Beauty/Cosmetics/Fashion
4. Environment
5. Media/Television
What’s Wrong with America:
6. Oil companies
7. Food/Seed/Gene splicing
8. Weapons Contractors
9. Politics/Politicians
10. International Bankers
11. Government Concentration Camps
12. New World Order

Reoccurring Episode Things
• Social Statement
• Conspiracy Gibberish
• Can show how they became monsters [One each episode]
• Can show them hunting/gathering/consuming humans [Once each episode]
• Perhaps Fictitious Physics? Maybe alternate dimensions, physical and temporal. [Reoccurring theme, not necessarily each episode]

Character Descriptions
• Zombie – Normal Voice. Recently Undead, living homeless since he woke up behind a dumpster. Being recently undead, he’s probably curious about the monster world.
Possible names:
Zomboy, Xomboy,?? stupid
• Vampire – Slightly European Accent. Nobility of some type. William Cavendish, Duke of Devonshire perhaps? Undead since 1500 – 1600ish. Full of knowledge about the undead world because he’s old as shit.
Possible names:
Magus, Lucius, Lucien, Darien, Darius, Albrecht, Roark, Lord William Cavendish; Duke of Devonshire,
• Werewolf - Gruff voice [teeth clenched]. Undead since 1800 – 1875ish. Maybe he used to be an artist or a poet or something? Perhaps base his character around Henry David Thoreau / Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Possible names:
Raleigh, Rasputin, Elliott
• Mummy – Dry raspy whisper or perhaps words recorded backwards then reversed. Undead since 1500 BCE. Tomb opened in 1891 A.D. Perhaps based on pharaoh Ahmose, who founded the first kingdom. Last to have a pyramid. Perhaps He’s there landlord and it could develop into a plot twist later. They have to pay him rent in the form of human sacrifices…
Possible names:
Ahmose
• Frankenstein – Deep voice. Perhaps lowered a few notes. Witty, Sophisticated, well read and well spoken, like Frankenstein’s monster from the book. Smart, Sad, Lonely.
Possible names:
There’s only one Frankenstein’s monster…
• Igor – Igor voice. Not undead, actually a hideous human that became a part of the undead world due to rejection from humanity [like that hideous creature from the movie ‘300’].

Extra Random Ideas to Use:
• Perhaps as a plot twist later in the series they could find out more about their landlord mummy. Perhaps vampire assumes he is naïve, his tomb only having been opened in 1891. Later you really find out that he is a 3,500 year old, ancient evil fuck who is manipulating them. Perhaps while they only consume their human bodies as nourishment, he has been using their human sacrifices [rent] to consume the human souls and is growing vastly powerful. He could turn out to be an enemy for a little bit, but then later they could reunite to do battle against the New World Overlords.
• Yet another Opportunity for a plot twist later, Zombie is the only one that doesn’t remember his human life or know how he became a monster. Like becoming a zombie gave him amnesia for some reason? Perhaps he was the result of some experiment by the New World Overlords or something to that effect.
• Develop two more sets of characters.
1. A group of average humans [perhaps neighbors] through which the perspective of oblivious pathetic humans can occasionally be portrayed for some kind of comedic value. Julia expressed willingness to help with them; perhaps she could develop them [Characters info, Aesthetic style, etc.].
2. “the Antagonists” or ‘villains’ of the show. Perhaps they could just refer to themselves as “the Antagonists” or “the New World Overlords”. These people are international bankers. There aren’t more than 12 or 13 of them. They own everything on earth. Each one of them individually is richer and more powerful then any sovereign nation. Each with a private army of freaked out gene spliced clone soldiers whom they’ve be able to create through their extensive research and development branches or whatever is a logical reason… the leader could be a truly amazingly evil bastard, like a cross between a gigantic satanic demon and a really creepy children’s clown… devil clown… or maybe kind of like Balo, the fire clown from Moorecocks multiverse. Possible name; Mephistopheles? [note to self: read faust?]
• Possible Character Names for New World Order Overlord:
Belthasar, Melchoir, Gaspar, Iffarit, bahamut, baphomet

• Use their butler Igor’s story in the episode about beauty/fashion/cosmetics, as he is a human, rejected by humanity. It could be his version of the “how they became a monster/1 each episode” thing I wanted to do.
• Zomboy finds someone from his mysterious past before he died, his father say. He approaches his dad and starts a heart breaking spiel. He is telling his dad he loves him and asking what happened before he died. Then it shifts to his fathers perspective and you see that zomboy is really moaning and making horrible zombie noises instead of talking. Dads all like, “what the fuck”

Other Relatively unimportant thing for me to consider remembering
• Werewolf can have bachelor pad room design, cinder block bookshelves, pictures of half naked women, empty liquor bottles, etc., Vampire can have gothic room design with a coffin, maybe some unnecessary flying buttresses coming out of his walls, perhaps some hooks hanging from chains arbitrarily attached around the ceiling [can be roosting spots for when he turns into a thousand bats {is roosting a real word or am I totally high?], boarded up windows and many a cob webby candelabra. Zombie can just inherit Frankenstein’s room when he move out, which could basically be like a mad science lab, or something to that effect.
• Develop some female characters… if that doesn’t work, perhaps try the creature from the black lagoon? Hahaha.
• Monster Manor [or whatever it will be called] can get toilet papered one episode and later you realize it was because the mummy got attacked by the cities over abundant population of shit head pigeons.
• Instead of making fun of humans, the show can just make fun of monsters, as there society is riddled with the same problems as modern American society. Monsters are all on pharmaceutical drugs, consumed by television, etc. perhaps just everyone powerful could be a monster, including politicians, corporate fat cats, even the “new world overlords”, it’s common knowledge amongst them, but humans are unaware they hold all positions of power. Perhaps before the “new world overlords” are introduced it can just show the system of powerful monsters as it is in America, chaotic and jumbled with nothing getting accomplished, at fist glance, then you realize it’s all a very complicated web woven by the “new world overlords”.
• Drake; remember that short, failed attempt at a screenplay you wrote back in like 2005, where in a group of teenagers eat some mushrooms and then one of them became a zombie and know body knew cause they were all tripping, the zombie included. Well one episode or another [later on in the series when you are totally washed up on ideas], here’s your chance to finally get to make your “tripping zombie” crappy movie idea into a reality.
• Vampire could reminisce about the good old days, like back in the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries, when a vampire didn’t have a care in the world
• If I do a pilot of a longer show, pitch it to adult swim and places like that, if it’s a series of short cartoons pitch it as a “web exclusive” type of stupid thing for some website.
• I’m not smart or clever, or better at anything then anyone else, learn, assimilate, use and credit as many sources as possible. Eternal reference to things I might not even fully understand. Everyone loves an obscure reference when they feel that not many other people would get or appreciate the reference.
• Since I no longer have a drum set in Tampa, I can just use drumming on tables and such for beats, plus it would sound really cool anyways. That and my acoustic guitar / Julia’s piano. Then for the second season when I get my music equipment back I could record a version of the music with drumset / electric guitar.
• perhaps “dark matter”, “dark energy” or “anti-matter” could be the new world overlords equivalent of magic or alchemy

Things for me to figure out
• Name that they refer to themselves as, similar to but nor the word monsters, such as “ancient ones” “outsiders” “old blood” “black blood” or simply “the undead”.
• Names for characters, the show its self, the house the live in, etc.

Pilot Episode [Rough Draft in Progress]
The scene opens with Werewolf and Frankenstein yelling at each other about living issues.
WW: “You always eat all of my food out of the refrigerator”
Fr: “Well at least I don’t clog up the drain every time I shower”
WW: “Yeah, that’s right big guy, just walk away”
WW [aside to V]: “We have got to get a new roommate”
Frankenstein Mopes in
Fr [to V]: “I can take no more of this, I apologize but I am moving out”
WW: “Good, Finally that decomposing dead flesh smell will go away”
Frankenstein mopes out
V: “Well I suppose we’ll have to get a new room mate”
The next scene shows Vampire typing at a computer
WW: “I don’t see why we need to get a new room mate anyways”
V: “I told you, we need help filling our quota”---Interrupted
WW: “And I can’t believe you’re posting a wanted add on Greg’s List, it’s like, a bunch of stalkers on there”
V: “Oh just shut up, will you? [Soliloquy] “I can hardly blame Frankenstein”
The scene shows the main foyer / front door area, the doorbell is ringing. Perhaps some dialogue about “expecting company” or “being on good behavior”. Anyways, Igor opens the door and some total goth douche is standing there.
V: “May I Help You”
GuyDouche: “Uh.. Yeah Hi, I’m responding to the add on Greg’s lists about a roo---”
‘BONK’ – Werewolf hits him in the face with a frying pan and he falls to the floor in an unconscious heap
WW: “There is no way that douche is moving in with us”
V: “Ah, I told you not to do that kind of thing”
Blah blah blah, more dumb dialogue a few more people come to the door and each is progressively rejected faster. Perhaps the last time around, Werewolf could just open the door and plunge his claws deep into the abdomen of the unsuspecting fucktard at the door. When all hope seems lost and they are just sitting about the house the doorbell rings one last time. The door is opened upon a shadowy figure, stepping into the light to reveal Zombie.
V: “Welcome, Come in…”
Bum Buh Bum BUUUUUH! Ominous and then cut away to Commercial Break!
Maybe more stuff needs to happen in between before the Show Resumes.
Vampire, Werewolf and Zombie are sitting around a fine dining table, eating the remains of the people who knocked on the door.
V: “Then it’s all settled, you can move in immediately. “
Z: “Thank you”
WW: “So what’s your story anyways kid?”
Z: “What do you mean?”
WW: “Well I can tell you are recently undead, so what happened?”
Z: “Oh, right. Well, I don’t really know exactly, I just woke behind a Burger King one day and I was like this. I guess that was probably about six month ago or so. Ever since then I’ve just been living on the streets, inhabiting alley ways and living on bums.”
WW: “That Sounds like a rough time. How did you ever find your way here?”
Z: “I was a the library looking up porn when I stumbled across your advertisement on Greg’s list. I thought it was a joke at first but I was so desperate I figured I’d just try it anyways. Nice post by the way, didn’t the phrase ‘Looking for an undead roommate’ seem slightly obvious to you?”
V: “I thought it would keep most of the humans from responding, although it did attract some ridiculous people”
WW: “Yeah, It was okay, we got this sweet meal out of it.”
Blah blah dialogue perhaps a scene change, after dinner around a fire with glasses of wine
Z: “I still can’t believe all of this, you guys are the first undead people I’ve met since I woke up that day. So you are supposed to be a vampire right?”
V: “Indeed”
Z: “And you’re obviously a Werewolf, right?”
WW: “You see, that’s actually a common misconception. I’m really more of a wolf-man, but no, that’s just fine, you can call me a werewolf.”
Z: “That’s pretty cool, but what am I supposed to be, a zombie I suppose?”
V: “It would appear that way.”
Z: “Man, I got gypped, but still, this is so cool. I can’t believe monsters exist”
WW: “Yeah well we do exist, and we prefer the term ‘undead’, you dick. And it’s probably not as cool as you think. It’s not all just killing people and drinking and partying.”
Scene changes to show quick montage of them partying and murdering humans brutally, end montage with ‘3 weeks later’ or something and show vampire
V: “Seriously though…”
Pan over to Werewolf chowing down on dead bodies.
WW: “I’m sorry, what did you say? I had my head phones in.”
Camera shows Werewolf put his headphones back in from his perspective and start eating again, with his headphone music rocking something crappy like Risk Astley’s ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ or something.

Two thoughts...

That just occurred to me...

1] The idea of someone with an "old soul" does not always have to mean an especially enlightened person nor does it merit the thought that, an "old soul" is that much further along in its spiritual evolution or quest of trudging through tediousness lifetime-after-lifetime in order to work their way up some kind of karmic-reincarnation-ladder. It could actually mean that the old soul is repeating the same sick sad mistakes over and over again. Never getting life right. Never moving up to a higher plane of reality / existence / consciousness. It could mean that the poor old soul has lived a thousand identical lives, repeating over and over again, like Bill Murray from groundhogs day, the same sorry fate forever. How sad that must be...

2] Idea for a sweet-ass, hollywood action movie:
Jesus is Coming: Say Your Prayers...
Plot Synopsis: Jesus kills everyone in a sexy way using guns and miracles. Featuring biblical dialogue, gratuitous sex scenes, and ultimate crucifixion violence...


And further more... It's late and I'm wretched, so what did you expect?
severely yours,
Hampster Wadsworth Jenkins Reginald, Esquire.

Syntax Error: Generic Title # 47 not found

And still, I dream of blood red kittens,
and they are all I want for christmas...

Kid's Story

Once upon a time there was a village, encased in darkness, and life was good. Never knowing the light, wind, rain, they didn’t miss these pleasentries.
One day, however, the apex of their void was split by a long piercing line of whiteness. The line continued to widen, and they realized it was a parting chasm, of which they had been inside.
The village was plunged into fear and terror as their village shifted and quaked.
As the walls of the canyon fell away on either side of the village, the people realized that their little town would never again be the same.
As the blackness that had enclosed them continued to fall further below them, they soon realized that it was not their darkness that fell, but their village that was climbing ever higher in altitude.
Finding their village exposed to brilliant light and rushing wind for the first time ever made them scared and full of anxiety, and chaos gripped the city, for they knew that their city was facing an apocalypse; little did they realize, their village was entering an age of prosperity the likes of which they’d never known.
Days turned to months, and months to years until there was no longer anyone who feared the light. Before long there was no one left in their village who could recall a time of darkness. And so time progressed, as did their civilization.
Generations passed and before long, their village had grown into a powerful kingdom, fortified by sciences forged by their forefathers, the kingdoms influence spread as they stretched out their hands to take everything they could reach.
It was not long before they had grown lazy and decadent. Having found out most of their world’s secrets and used them to acquire more wealth and power, they turned inwards towards gluttony, hedonism, and greed.
And so it went. As more time passed, and their once great civilization continued to descend down an ignoble path. When things seemed at their bleakest, a hero rose up.
A champion of the people, one of the last great and unique minds. He spent his time devoted to higher thoughts and purposes and came to a conclusion deduced through the use of his instruments of science.
Their world would soon end.
As insects lived on plants, their civilization too lived on the top of a giant tree. Their universe had been born forth from the humble beginnings of a seed sprouting. Inevitably, that tree too, would die.
As the hero began trying to seek out audiences with the kingdom’s leaders, he was instantly met with accusations of blasphemy, heresy, insanity and stupidity.
As he was a man of intellect and science, he lacked the oratorical skills to convince his leaders.
The Hero was sent far away, to a place where he could spend the remainder of his numbered days.
And so the kingdom ended, some way that was not blissful, but perhaps ignorant.

The Girl With the Hole in Her Head

It wasn't always like this... She used to know the tranquility that comes with repetition. The soul crushing boredom of a perfectly predictable existence. Now her life has become unpredictable, frightening. Images and sound rushing past her that seem to bear no relevance towards past or future. When once goals seemed tangible, as if the future was just out of reach, and the past still left a bitter taste in ones mouth, now the abstract notions of a temporal realm alluded her entirely. Nothing existed except in the ever changing, ever present moment. It was impossible to paint a picture of, to form an idea, that could encompass her routine daily life. Before she could walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water, she had lived a thousand lives, been a thousand places. Upon arriving in the kitchen, she wouldn't have the faintest idea of who or where she was, why she existed, or what she was staring at [presumably the sink faucet]. Formulating a thought coherent enough to satisfying a bodily function such as thirst was no longer possible anyways. She had become a soul, untethered to her body.

It had all began with the slightest rip, but that wasn't to come just yet. In the beginning, she was just like any other child; She had an insatiable curiosity about the world she now found herself inhabiting. As her peers discovered their first encounters of a social nature, these thoughts dropped off among them. Content to spend their days playing hop scotch and discussing the pressing social issues of their youth, [such as the latest cootie outbreak in West Dakota, that had claimed nine lives] gradually, she was left behind by them. Rather, that is to say, she allowed herself to drift apart from them. She felt more secure in the world of literature, finding in it her one refuge from the questions that plagued her daily. Her tendencies only increased as time wore on and in her adolescence she had flourished. Within her head, she has built up a repository of knowledge. She was a walking encyclopedia and within her head she contained enough knowledge, the weight of which would crush the most ardent of scholars. But she cared not for them and even less for that. The idea of the world of academia in general. She didn't receive education in order to succeed amongst them. No, she chose to educate herself to try to satisfy her longing. She pined to learn the meaning of existence, the reason why she was alive at all on this, our earth.

She had grown up to be a wizened older woman. While others married and had children, she still found her only solace in the bound pages of a book. She had amassed such an incredible array of knowledge, she had fit all of humanity and culture into a nice puzzle with the universe. She was in almost complete harmony with her existence. It was as if life were a beautiful mosaic on a giant wall and only she could step back and appreciate it's true beauty, while everyone else could not help but to scrutinize the individual pieces of tessera which made it up. The only thing that remained outside of her grasp, that escaped her comprehension, was still the most important question to her. Where were we as a species going? What was her role to play in all of this? For what singular purpose did she exist?

That night, she went out by the sea and lay down. As the repetitive breaking of waves on the shore echoed out alone in the silences of the night, she stared out at the stars. Thats when she knew that there was no book ever written that could truly tell her what life was all about. Perhaps she had always known, she thought. The last piece of her puzzle was and had always been inside of her. There was no one who will ever have any more or less potential then her. She knew then what her life had been leading her towards, with every step she took. She knew also what she must do.

When she went into the cave, she did it without remorse. Without remorse for the life she had spent in books, nor for the life she had spent alone. Thoughts of this nature had long since stopped afflicting her. She had only her iron will, her unyielding determination to finally come to terms and make peace with her perceptions of reality. She seated herself on the floor and proceeded to probe deeper then she had ever done before. Minutes went by without her so much as blinking. Hours passed and still she sat. She was undoing an entire life's worth of psychological programming. She was smart enough to know when she was dishonest with herself. She was smart enough to know exactly what was going on but for some reason, her brain would try desperately to deceive her. Her brain was subconsciously using a technique of self preservation. Three days passed without her so much as moving but she had done it. She had allowed herself to be honest with herself for the first time since she was a child. She remained in the cave for another five days, contemplating her inner truth. Weak from mental exhaustion, emaciated from days without food or water. She crawled her way along her carpeted floor to her desk.

She was never in a cave to begin with. The cave was a metaphorical place in her mind [She had in fact been sitting for over a week in the spare room of her apartment staring blankly at the space in-between her carpet and an electrical outlet]. There really was a beach by the sea, but that is a tale, for another time. When she reached her desk she knew she had little time left and so she hurriedly scrawled on a sheet of paper everything she felt was of importance and that is when it happened.

It started as just a little rip. It ran from her ear to her temple. There must have been something in there with a sharp corner and it had eventually poked it's way through. Once the initial perforation was there, it was not long before the weight of her mind started pulling it longer. The tear stretched from temple to temple, across the crown of her head. Before long everything was just spilling out of it. Rudimentary grammar, long division, iambic pentameter, and more and more just kept falling out. As the hole in the girls head grew, not only did the fruits of her labor fall out, but also her fondest memories. Gone were the greek tragedies, and gone were the holidays with her family. It's not that she collapsed so much as she no longer possessed the will or desire to stand. As she lay writhing on the floor, darkness over took her, and consciousness seeped out of her body.

When she came to, It might as well have been the first day of her life. She could have recognized that fact the way that an antelope recognizes the fact that there are satellites orbiting our planet. The hole in her head was so large that she could hold nothing in her head for longer then the moments it came to her through one of her five senses. She could no longer even form thoughts, but just merely try to guess at or interpret what the visions and sounds were that came and went arbitrarily. It was another three days before she died. She was no longer able to connect the pain in her stomach with any concept of nourishment or food. She starved to death alone in her apartment.

It was about a week later when her place was forcefully entered and her body taken to the morgue. Neighbors had complained about the smell emanating from her apartment. That is not important, but this is what is; her possessions were sent to her closest living relatives, which were her parents. They were not on bad terms although they had not spoken in over a decade. Among the thousands of books they received in dozens of boxes, there was only one box which contained her few and scattered personal effects. Among these was the page she had written on shortly before she had died. It took her parents many month before they got around to finding the box and reading what the girl had written. What she wrote is roughly translated as follows:

In my selfish pursuit of knowledge, I ignored most of what people consider life; friends, family, love, marriage, children. I know now that the only noble pursuit of man is a selfless one. To love his fellow man and to be loved. To give all of yourself and in return to be given so much from others. In this one great purpose, i have failed.

She was buried in a local cemetery, her head stone read only this: "It is never to late to say you are sorry".