With my recent reformatting of this blog, I should place my pleas for validation every other blog. Then again, if the odd number blog sucks, promoting my film project, "Main Event of the Dead," may be for not.
This blog should be about the progress of my script to production, but until there is support, this is dedicated to my social development or lack there of. Let's change that by asking me what can be done to assist in producing my tale of six, color-themed (a Tarantino tribute), "professional" wrestlers and their quest to obtain their only big pay day. Since their opponents are undead gimmicks that an absolute politically incorrectly Vince McMahon would salivate over (that still maybe an understatement), it maybe their final pay day.
Perhaps I should sell it as Peoria wrestling in a nut shell. Either way, shouldn't it be accurately captured? And at least you know how to contribute to the project if your not an artist or seductress to promote the film. You can at least offer me less pretentious names for the protagonist. Let me know at russthebus07@gmail.com
For those who keep up on the blog, sorry for not writing an installment last week. It was a tough weekend for me since it was Stacia Hardin's 32 birthday. As a "Star Wars" fan, I know that shouldn't be the case.
I may have the right to be bitter about her ruining the holiday of May the Fourth, a more valid holiday than Mother's, Father's Day or Easter since it can fall on a weekday. In a perfect world, we would receive a paid day off from fueling the rich's agenda to hold down the poor. When it comes to perfection, I think being born on May 4 only proves how perfect Stacia was.
So, my failure to write a blog dedicated to her memory was my bad, and I definitely at least had one more way of honoring her memory. And since it would have been in poor taste to write my bold printed advertisement for the purpose of this blog, it would have been an easy one to write.
Sorry Stacia for dropping the ball. Sorry for not honoring you properly, but at least I didn't write anything irrefutably stupid. At the time, I was going to write a blog investigating the concepts of proper and improper dedications. Since it would had to have been titled "To the Insensitive Dead of Morton, Illinois," the attention the title received would have made me more hated in my hometown than Donald Sterling (timely, but if you know Mortonites, that guy probably offend them "too" much).
Rationalization 44: I'm Buried by Your Indifference.
That's a nasty way of saying I have writer's block, but at least I was able to be creative in saying it.
The rationalization doesn't actually apply to writer's block, just my general demeanor. Writer's block is the end result.
This stems from a realization that nearly the last three years have been hell for me. It isn't the slavery of the day jobs (with the exception of HGS, if we could get an increase to the minimum wage, that may be everyone's ideal location), it's that everything I devote myself to means nothing to anyone. All I've gotten from this blog are cries not to test my philosophy that life and death are the same thing.
During one of these pleas, I was asked if I was just given the few thousand to produce this movie, would it make me happy. It didn't take much thought (I did pause for a moment) to tell that person no. If no one is interested in the idea, nothing would be done with the money.
Maybe I should just open up my Kickstarter like one of my fellow Facebook friends. Maybe my generation thinks worth is something that can only be measured by monetary means. It wouldn't surprise me with all the Mortonites I've unfollowed.
Even if something I devote myself to is shared by others, I have never been given the chance to prove my worth in it. This is constant through my entire wrestling career (even my amateur career) with the exceptions of valid mentors (thanks for conning me out of three years of that career Norman Callaway [Alex Larson have perpetuated the con till NGW ended, but I wouldn't have been in that position if it wasn't for Norman] and fuck Jason Pemperton [I should take that one back, he just needed to find his ideal role and good on him for it] and Norman for not having any respect for the business I've dedicated the most to). It's tough for even those who gave a shit when it seems everyone else is out to prevent anyone else from succeeding (unless it helps them).
Do we want a list of those who give "everyone" a bad name? I figure mentioning the WWE Heavyweight Champion in the title may have helped the traffic. If they don't care about my plight or my zombie movie (they could star in), may as well reward them other wise.
Rationalization 45: You Are as Valid as Your Interests.
To make the last rationalization perfect, there should be a third layer of hell. That was supposed to be my inability to prove that I am worthwhile (to the other sex) to try and develop happiness with. But, if no one cares about what you love, why will they love you.
Girls must be able to smell that they will not get me. Or the smell of assholes is more intoxicating than vanilla, patchouli, peppermint and jasmine.
Rationalization 46: Settling is Lying
So the writers block stems from realizing that everything I try to achieve is destined to hit a wall. No one cares, so you better be happy that you took it farther than anyone else.
How many people can claim to be professional wrestlers (especially in Peoria)? How many people can say they completed a screenplay? That is what I'm asked to prove I'm unique, and that should be enough.
If I believed that is enough, I have given up.
Why are my screenplays about wrestling? Because I don't want to quit doing what I love. Why do I write screenplays? Because I don't want to quit trying to be involved in movies. Why do I try to be the best person I can? Because I want to enjoy life.
Too bad no one takes the time to care. I'm at my end, and I don't have a one-inch punch to get through my Texas Funeral.
Another Tarantino tribute on deaf ears.
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