My higher dose of medication hasn't kicked in yet (it takes about a fortnight from when I started) so I'm sort of in a holding pattern right now -- like when you're swimming for the surface (wow, I haven't even finished a sentence and I'm mixing metaphors; shit is getting wild in Mary's journal today!) and you know it's only a few more seconds until you can breathe, you just have to keep kicking and keep faith. Uh. Yeah. It's like that! With more lacking-in-motivation-to-move and stuff.
But while I have been useless and numb, I have finally completed the journal edition at work that has been plaguing my nightmares and causing crying fits since, um, May? And though I can't really feel anything strongly about anything right now, it's a relief to have that off my plate I guess. I actually have an assistant editor for the final issue of the year, and she's fabulous, so hopefully things will go more smoothly this time.
I've also finished the edits on The Devil's Mixtape
and it's a stronger book for the work we put into it. The publisher has also taken on The Wolf House
for a proper re-release next year. I haven't come to terms with the thought that I'm never going to see any of the money for the paperbacks and e-books sold so far, but I'm trying to focus on the good I know my words have done for some people and the love that people feel for the stories and the characters I made. That's a kind of payment, and in a world as messed-up as this one it's the more valuable kind. That said, I'm still pretty bummed out about it.
BUT ANYWAY, here are some things I have been enjoying since I last annoyed everyone here:
When I got into bandom in 2007, one of the things which was so world-shifting about the experience was that these songs were texts being created by people of the same generation as me, who'd been shaped by the same forces and who now lived in the same world. Travie singing about giving his girlfriend her very own ringtone. Pete making a Neverending Story-theme hoodie. Especially as someone with a million years of university studies about textual poaching and postmodernism and stuff, what I was properly looking at for the first time in my own life was what happened when artists drew from the weird and wonderful and shallow and stupid and consumerism-based and disposable and interactive and metatextual and sprawling realm of pop culture they'd been raised in.
Homestuck is all of that, stored on a glitchy disc and then reuploaded to a server controlled by the elder gods. It's the sincerity/irony coin-spin loving something really dumb and really spectacular generates, that can't be properly articulated except by just doing it. It's... look, there's a reason that "LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT HOMESTUCK" is a meme. Which in itself is some kind of glorious god-tier level of irony.
Basically this fucking comic/game/cartoon/story will eat your life. It's complicated and huge and nobody in their right mind should ever dip their toe in if they know what's good for them. But fuck if it isn't one of the most accomplished and fascinating and hilarious things I've ever experienced. It makes House of Leaves look like a Dick and Jane book.
- Neon Genesis Evangelion
I watched Evangelion 2.22, the second of the reboot movies, today. Maybe it's because of reading Homestuck, or being so much older than the characters this time around, but I found myself caring much more about all the kids than I ever did in the original show. They're just a bunch of messed-up little babies being bossed around by a bunch of messed-up adults and they're all hurting and they're all just trying to muddle through as well as they know how.
And then that seriousness/hilarity double-up thing comes into play and I'm just OH KAWORU WHAT THEY ACTUAL HECK ARE YOU DOING YOU CAN'T JUST COME DOWN FROM THE MOON AND PAUSE THE APOCALYPSE MIDWAY AND DECLARE THAT YOU'RE GOING TO SHOW SHINJI 'TRUE HAPPINESS'. THAT'S KIND OF PUTTING ALL YOUR CARDS ON THE TABLE AT ONCE DUDE.
And I've been enjoying other stuff as well I guess but I don't want this entry to be a million things long and also I must go partake in that most time-honoured passtimes of the massively depressed, 'lying in bed doing nothing at two in the afternoon'. WOO YEAH PARTY LIFE.