1) The number of posts reflect that, yes, I am lazy. Actually work got really insane in Sept/Oct/Nov and I'm wallowing in my laziness in Dec.
2) 2008 was just the beginning of economic chaos. I'd like to be more positive, but I can't. I don't see how things are going to get better for a while. Nice to see the eelights, the connected and riches panic with the rest of us especially when it was in large part their desire for insane returns without doing the actual sweating, bleeding and stress that usually goes with it that got all of us in this mess.
3) Enjoying humanity more. As maddening and stupid and ignorant and insane they can be (and I'm no charmer myself.)
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Career Limiting Move #1
It would be the Canada City May Two Four Weekend aka Victoria Day Weekend 1997 and the first time I actually got two dates with two different women on the same weekend.
What happens? My boss (and owner of the small firm I worked for) decided to bring in ALL his engineering staff to test a new product that was going to be shipped on Tuesday (I was techsupport/ field apps and had no role in product design (except bitching about it.)) Goodbye two dates. Hello tedium. I was in charge of doing the environmental tests, but we had so many problems with the firmware that I spent most of my time with my thumb up my ass.
Then we were told that the customer on Sat aft (sent Friday but boss didn't read his goddamned email) that they wanted to push the roll out by two weeks.
Great.
I was super pissed about the whole thing. Obviously, being the junior man on the totem pole meant that I have to eat more than my share of shit and smile from time to time, but I was not happy about the concern whoring panic from the boss man.
Any way, the boss decides to pay for beers and dinner because he felt a little guilty. My boss, who is Vietnamese, chose a Viet karaoke bar. Unfortunately, the only beer they had for some reason was Bud. Being annoyed and pissed off, I didn't care and ordered two beers. I polished them off in about a 20 minutes by then the waitress came by and I ordered another.
An hour later, I had six beers in me on a now half empty stomach. The boss had left early and I was there with the remaining staff.
At this point I was pretty damn drunk which was fine. I didn't have a car and took the bus to work. My supervisor lived a couple of klicks away so I bummed a ride off him when I worked late.
Karaoke started. I don't understand why my fellow cousins (asians) insist on singing really sappy love songs for Karaoke. Despite being sloshed, I did not sing but it did make me want to drink some more. A half hour later and three beers more beers in the system, I realized that I was really far gone when I slurred my words.
The table rose up to hit me in the face and apparently, I passed out face down for about a good 40 minutes before everyone decided to go home.
I woke up and then puked a little on the table. In one of the most dickish moves I've ever done, as I was leaving I turned to the waitress and slurred with a grin, "I left a little something on the table for ya." The look on her face told me that I'd better never return to this restaurant.
I puked some more in the parking lot.
My supervisor told me to let him know if I was going to puke when he dropped me into the passenger seat of his BMW. I mumbled something and promptly passed out.
I awoke some 20 minutes later when my stomach finally had enough. I remember DeeLite's "Groove is in the Heart" playing on the radio as I tried to warn my supervisor about my impending upchucking. It was a race between the air and my stomach. The Air lost.
As I projectile vomited, I realized where I was and threw my hands up to, er, catch it. I failed.
When we arrived at my parents house, I fell out of the car and vomited on the driveway as I crawled to my parents door.
My supervisor yelled at me to be at work at 8:30 or I would be fired.
When I opened the door, I stared back at my mom's concerned face.
"What happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
I decided to shower with my clothes on that night, changed and passed out in my bed.
The next morning I discovered that there was no Aspirin in the house and that my smart mouth isn't always that smart. My mom decided that she would drive me to work and yelled at me the whole way after she asked me "What the hell was I thinking?" and I replied with my terminal smart ass way, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
My supervisor found me at 1:30pm passed out in front of the company building and had a somewhat good laugh at my expense.
Needless to say, I was not fired but I was the butt of many an office joke for about three months.
What really sucked? Someone showed me the bar bill later. There were 17 beers in total, of which 9 were mine. I literally out drank the table to the point where I put myself under it.
Lessons learned?
1) My limit for drinking on an empty stomach? 8 beers.
2) Karaoke is bad for your health
3) Removing puke from a BMW leather interior is not easy
4) Booze and work don't mix
5) The world does not appreciate smart asses
What happens? My boss (and owner of the small firm I worked for) decided to bring in ALL his engineering staff to test a new product that was going to be shipped on Tuesday (I was techsupport/ field apps and had no role in product design (except bitching about it.)) Goodbye two dates. Hello tedium. I was in charge of doing the environmental tests, but we had so many problems with the firmware that I spent most of my time with my thumb up my ass.
Then we were told that the customer on Sat aft (sent Friday but boss didn't read his goddamned email) that they wanted to push the roll out by two weeks.
Great.
I was super pissed about the whole thing. Obviously, being the junior man on the totem pole meant that I have to eat more than my share of shit and smile from time to time, but I was not happy about the concern whoring panic from the boss man.
Any way, the boss decides to pay for beers and dinner because he felt a little guilty. My boss, who is Vietnamese, chose a Viet karaoke bar. Unfortunately, the only beer they had for some reason was Bud. Being annoyed and pissed off, I didn't care and ordered two beers. I polished them off in about a 20 minutes by then the waitress came by and I ordered another.
An hour later, I had six beers in me on a now half empty stomach. The boss had left early and I was there with the remaining staff.
At this point I was pretty damn drunk which was fine. I didn't have a car and took the bus to work. My supervisor lived a couple of klicks away so I bummed a ride off him when I worked late.
Karaoke started. I don't understand why my fellow cousins (asians) insist on singing really sappy love songs for Karaoke. Despite being sloshed, I did not sing but it did make me want to drink some more. A half hour later and three beers more beers in the system, I realized that I was really far gone when I slurred my words.
The table rose up to hit me in the face and apparently, I passed out face down for about a good 40 minutes before everyone decided to go home.
I woke up and then puked a little on the table. In one of the most dickish moves I've ever done, as I was leaving I turned to the waitress and slurred with a grin, "I left a little something on the table for ya." The look on her face told me that I'd better never return to this restaurant.
I puked some more in the parking lot.
My supervisor told me to let him know if I was going to puke when he dropped me into the passenger seat of his BMW. I mumbled something and promptly passed out.
I awoke some 20 minutes later when my stomach finally had enough. I remember DeeLite's "Groove is in the Heart" playing on the radio as I tried to warn my supervisor about my impending upchucking. It was a race between the air and my stomach. The Air lost.
As I projectile vomited, I realized where I was and threw my hands up to, er, catch it. I failed.
When we arrived at my parents house, I fell out of the car and vomited on the driveway as I crawled to my parents door.
My supervisor yelled at me to be at work at 8:30 or I would be fired.
When I opened the door, I stared back at my mom's concerned face.
"What happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
I decided to shower with my clothes on that night, changed and passed out in my bed.
The next morning I discovered that there was no Aspirin in the house and that my smart mouth isn't always that smart. My mom decided that she would drive me to work and yelled at me the whole way after she asked me "What the hell was I thinking?" and I replied with my terminal smart ass way, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
My supervisor found me at 1:30pm passed out in front of the company building and had a somewhat good laugh at my expense.
Needless to say, I was not fired but I was the butt of many an office joke for about three months.
What really sucked? Someone showed me the bar bill later. There were 17 beers in total, of which 9 were mine. I literally out drank the table to the point where I put myself under it.
Lessons learned?
1) My limit for drinking on an empty stomach? 8 beers.
2) Karaoke is bad for your health
3) Removing puke from a BMW leather interior is not easy
4) Booze and work don't mix
5) The world does not appreciate smart asses
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Career Limiting Moves
1) Don't get pissed off then drink 9 beers on an empty stomach, passout then vomit in your supervisor's car.
2) Don't be so honest and dare the boss to fire you because he will.
3) Don't inadvertently make your boss look like a fool.
4) Don't tell yell at your boss over the phone and tell him to get fucked.
5) Don't return the CEO's angry gaze with a Gallic Shrug.
6) Don't spend 45 minutes ripping almost everyone in the company at 150dB so that everyone in the office can hear you from the other end of the building.
7) Don't raise your fist against a stupid stoneheaded coworker.
8) Don't smile when your boss fires you.
As one might have guessed these are all the stupid things I have done over time. Details later.
2) Don't be so honest and dare the boss to fire you because he will.
3) Don't inadvertently make your boss look like a fool.
4) Don't tell yell at your boss over the phone and tell him to get fucked.
5) Don't return the CEO's angry gaze with a Gallic Shrug.
6) Don't spend 45 minutes ripping almost everyone in the company at 150dB so that everyone in the office can hear you from the other end of the building.
7) Don't raise your fist against a stupid stoneheaded coworker.
8) Don't smile when your boss fires you.
As one might have guessed these are all the stupid things I have done over time. Details later.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Fumble Fingered Food Porn
Damn. I hit the damn post button instead of draft.
My attempt at Food Porn
Marinade for Top Flight Steaks
This is a rough estimate of the spices required for a 8-10oz steak (scale accordingly)
1/8 Cup Brown Sugar
1 Tbl Spoon of Freshly Ground Black Pepper
1 dash of Ginger or 2 dashes of Chinese Five Spice mixture
1 oz of Gin (or 2 ozs for tougher cuts of meat)
2 Tbl Spoons of Olive Oil (or Canola, but I prefer Olive)
Mix oil, booze, sugar, spices thoroughly.
Rub mix deeply into the meat.
I find it easiest to put the steaks in a big freezer sized ziplock bag and let sit for 24 hours. Best is 48 hours. Pour excess marinade into the bag.
Cook on BBQ
I prefer Gin, but you can use any hard grain alcohol. For those who don't like certain flavors, the flavor isn't going to last once the meat starts cooking.
My attempt at Food Porn
Marinade for Top Flight Steaks
This is a rough estimate of the spices required for a 8-10oz steak (scale accordingly)
1/8 Cup Brown Sugar
1 Tbl Spoon of Freshly Ground Black Pepper
1 dash of Ginger or 2 dashes of Chinese Five Spice mixture
1 oz of Gin (or 2 ozs for tougher cuts of meat)
2 Tbl Spoons of Olive Oil (or Canola, but I prefer Olive)
Mix oil, booze, sugar, spices thoroughly.
Rub mix deeply into the meat.
I find it easiest to put the steaks in a big freezer sized ziplock bag and let sit for 24 hours. Best is 48 hours. Pour excess marinade into the bag.
Cook on BBQ
I prefer Gin, but you can use any hard grain alcohol. For those who don't like certain flavors, the flavor isn't going to last once the meat starts cooking.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Money for Nothing
Now look at them brokers thats the way you do it
You play derivatives on the securities
That ain't workin thats the way you do it
Money for nothin and chicks for free
Now that ain't workin thats the way you do it
Lemme tell ya them guys aint dumb
Maybe get a paper cut on your little finger
Maybe get a staple in your thumb
We gotta install brand new kitchens
Custom stereo deliveries
We gotta move those Ferarris
We gotta move those plasma tvs
See the little maggot with the loafers and the top end suit
Yeah buddy thats all Propecia
That little maggot got his own jet airplane
That little maggot hes a millionaire
We gotta install brand new kitchens
Custom stereo deliveries
We gotta move those Ferarris
We gotta move those plasma tvs
I shoulda learned to do some calculus
I shoulda learned to cook them books
Look at that model, she got it stickin in the camera
Man we could have some fun
And hes up there, whats that? Margins Called?
Yelling on the cellphone 'bout panicking
That ain't workin thats the way you do it
Get your money for nothin get your chicks for free
We gotta rip out brand new kitchens
Custom stereo repocessions
We gotta take those Ferarris
We gotta remove those plasma tvs
Now that ain't workin thats the way you do it
You play derivatives on the securities
That aint workin thats the way you do it
Money for nothin and your chicks for free
Money for nothin and economic ruin for free
You play derivatives on the securities
That ain't workin thats the way you do it
Money for nothin and chicks for free
Now that ain't workin thats the way you do it
Lemme tell ya them guys aint dumb
Maybe get a paper cut on your little finger
Maybe get a staple in your thumb
We gotta install brand new kitchens
Custom stereo deliveries
We gotta move those Ferarris
We gotta move those plasma tvs
See the little maggot with the loafers and the top end suit
Yeah buddy thats all Propecia
That little maggot got his own jet airplane
That little maggot hes a millionaire
We gotta install brand new kitchens
Custom stereo deliveries
We gotta move those Ferarris
We gotta move those plasma tvs
I shoulda learned to do some calculus
I shoulda learned to cook them books
Look at that model, she got it stickin in the camera
Man we could have some fun
And hes up there, whats that? Margins Called?
Yelling on the cellphone 'bout panicking
That ain't workin thats the way you do it
Get your money for nothin get your chicks for free
We gotta rip out brand new kitchens
Custom stereo repocessions
We gotta take those Ferarris
We gotta remove those plasma tvs
Now that ain't workin thats the way you do it
You play derivatives on the securities
That aint workin thats the way you do it
Money for nothin and your chicks for free
Money for nothin and economic ruin for free
Thursday, October 2, 2008
The Mind of McCain
It's been observed by many others that McCain is probably the closest we will ever see anyone be Gollum in real life. Sadly I suspect that when McCain is asleep, the conversations in his head go a lot like this:
McCain 08: We wants it, we needs it. Must have the precious. They will help us win it! Sneaky little Rovians. Wicked, tricksy, true!
McCain 00 : No. Not Rove and Dobson!
McCain 08 Yes, precious, true! They will cheat, hurt, LIE FOR US!
McCain 00: Rove is your enemy!
McCain 08: NO! YOU don't have any friends; nobody Repub likes YOU!
McCain 00: I'm not listening... I'm not listening...
McCain 08: You're not a Maverick, but a coward.
McCain 00: No!
McCain 08: *BLACK BABY*.
McCain 00: Go away!
McCain 08: "Go away?"
[McCain 08 laughs as McCain 00 begins crying]
McCain 00: I hate you, I hate you.
McCain 08: Where would you be without me, McCain 08 the pander I saved us! It was me! We survived because of me!
Of course, the basis for this dialogue is from the Two Towers.
McCain 08: We wants it, we needs it. Must have the precious. They will help us win it! Sneaky little Rovians. Wicked, tricksy, true!
McCain 00 : No. Not Rove and Dobson!
McCain 08 Yes, precious, true! They will cheat, hurt, LIE FOR US!
McCain 00: Rove is your enemy!
McCain 08: NO! YOU don't have any friends; nobody Repub likes YOU!
McCain 00: I'm not listening... I'm not listening...
McCain 08: You're not a Maverick, but a coward.
McCain 00: No!
McCain 08: *BLACK BABY*.
McCain 00: Go away!
McCain 08: "Go away?"
[McCain 08 laughs as McCain 00 begins crying]
McCain 00: I hate you, I hate you.
McCain 08: Where would you be without me, McCain 08 the pander I saved us! It was me! We survived because of me!
Of course, the basis for this dialogue is from the Two Towers.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Rick Davis' Theme
Sorry Roger Miller.
I'm for sale or rent
Lobbying to let...fifty grand.
Six phones, a pool, some pets
I won't shill for mere cigarettes
Ah, but..two hours of greasin' palms
Buys an eight or twelve bedroom house
I'm a mean ass man of some means
King of the Toads.
John McCain, pres campaign
Destination...Bangor, Maine.
Well tailored suits and shoes,
I won't pay for union dues,
Lobbied for Freddie before it hit the ground
Deny, with a big wink around
I'm a mean ass man of some means
King of the Toads.
I know every body under every rock
Sell their children, and for any price
Get every handout from every corp
Get every buck that ain't locked
When no one's around.
Lobbying to let...fifty grand.
Six phones, a pool, some pets
I won't shill for mere cigarettes
Ah, but..two hours of greasin' palms
Buys an eight or twelve bedroom house
I'm a mean ass man of some means
King of the Toads.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Songs of Cognitive Dissonance
A few days ago I had a conversation with a friend regarding songs whose meanings are different than the popular culture. For instance, "Born In the USA". Instead of a rip roaring ode to the US America, it is a bitter song of lost promise, failed dreams and decay. Not exactly what the Reaganites believed it to be. I know because I read the liner notes.
My personal fav? The Police's "Every Breath You Take." Instead of a song of insane love as played at weddings, it's an even creepier song about a stalker and his (definitely him) prey. I've been told that I'm no romantic and bitter who can't find love (true) but I retorted to them, "Sing it while imagining yourself lying down on the ground with your eye in a scope as you look at your target while grasping a sniper rifle ." Not so romantic, eh? "Every breath you take, I'll be watching you."
My personal fav? The Police's "Every Breath You Take." Instead of a song of insane love as played at weddings, it's an even creepier song about a stalker and his (definitely him) prey. I've been told that I'm no romantic and bitter who can't find love (true) but I retorted to them, "Sing it while imagining yourself lying down on the ground with your eye in a scope as you look at your target while grasping a sniper rifle ." Not so romantic, eh? "Every breath you take, I'll be watching you."
Monday, August 25, 2008
Glory Daze (Sorry Boss)
I had a friend was a Navy pilot guy
Back in Indian Country
He could crash that Skyhawk so fast
Make you look like an ace, boy
Saw him the other night at the Sturgis rally
I was walking in, he was offering Cin
We went back inside sat down had a few drinks
But all he kept talking about was
POW days well they’ll pass you by
POW days in the wink of the first wife’s eye
POW days, POW days
Well there’s Cindy that lives up the block
Back in school she could turn all the boy’s heads
Sometimes on a friday i’ll stop by
And pop a few pills after she puts her old man to bed
Her husband Johnny well he calls her a cunt
I guess it’s gone on twenty years by now
We just sit around talking about the old times,
She says when she feels like crying
She starts laughing thinking about
OxyCon days well they’ll pass you by
OxyCon days in the wink of his first wife’s eye
OxyCon days, OxyCon days
Her husband worked 8 years in the ‘House
And they beat him up
Now everywhere she goes out looking for support
They just tell her that she’s too old
I was twenty two years old and she was “working” on the
White House Healthcare cluster fuck
Now she just sits on a stool chugging boilermakers
But i can tell what’s on her mind
Glory days yeah goin back
Glory days aw she ain’t never had
Glory days, glory days
Now i think i’m going down to the DNC tonight
And i’m going to drink till i get my fill
And i hope when i get old i don’t sit around thinking about it
But i probably will
Yeah, just sitting back trying to recapture
A little of the glory of, well time slips away
And leaves you with nothing mister but
Boring stories of glory days
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Relections on the Intro
Gahhh. I hate ripping apart my own work, but I feel I need to if I'm going to improve.
This was one of the first sections of the manuscript I wrote. To tell you the truth, I tried to make it exciting but with 10 year older eyes I think it's pretty weak on a writing technical point of view. This is what happens when you think you are more clever than you really are.
Fuck.
This was one of the first sections of the manuscript I wrote. To tell you the truth, I tried to make it exciting but with 10 year older eyes I think it's pretty weak on a writing technical point of view. This is what happens when you think you are more clever than you really are.
Fuck.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
Sympathy for the Cheney
Sometimes I have a habit of "writing" filks. It doesn't take me more than 20 minutes to pump one out. Usually only do when a song I remember fits the situation/person I want to mock and inspired. Makes sure that the syllable and rhyming (for the most part) line up.
This one is a personal fav of mine (Based on the Rolling Stone's Sympathy for the Devil.) Also one of the RW's "Conservative" Rock Songs (aside from one line about the Romanovs-who were a bunch of inbred dumb shits anyway, not much conservative about it at all.)
Please allow me to introduce myself
I’m a man of wealth and waste
I’ve been around for a long, long year
Stole two elections and their faith
And I was round when Al Gore
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that Scalia
Washed his hands and sealed his fate
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But whats puzzling you
Is the nature of my game
I stuck around Washington
When I saw it was a time for a change
Let Enron brown out California
Tom Daschele screamed in vain
I rode a tank
Wore a pretend generals rank
When Iraqi Freedom raged
And the bodies stank
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
Ah, whats puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah
I watched with glee
While your Main Stream Media
Fought for two decades
Over stupid labels they made
I shouted out,
Who hiked up oil prices?
When after all
It was just old me
Let me please introduce myself
I’m a man of wealth and waste
And I laid traps for ambassadors
Who get leaked before they reached Niger
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But whats puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But whats confusing you
Is just the nature of my game
Just as every Dem is a criminal
And all Republicans saints
As war is peace
Just call me Cheney
cause I don’t need of some restraint
So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some fresh human blood, and some babies
Use all your well-learned politesse
Or Ill shoot you in your face, um yeah
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, um yeah
But whats puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, um mean it, get down
Woo, who
Oh yeah, get on down
Oh yeah
Oh yeah!
Tell me baby, whats my name
Tell me honey, can ya guess my name
Tell me baby, whats my name
I tell you one time, you’re to blame
This one is a personal fav of mine (Based on the Rolling Stone's Sympathy for the Devil.) Also one of the RW's "Conservative" Rock Songs (aside from one line about the Romanovs-who were a bunch of inbred dumb shits anyway, not much conservative about it at all.)
Please allow me to introduce myself
I’m a man of wealth and waste
I’ve been around for a long, long year
Stole two elections and their faith
And I was round when Al Gore
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that Scalia
Washed his hands and sealed his fate
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But whats puzzling you
Is the nature of my game
I stuck around Washington
When I saw it was a time for a change
Let Enron brown out California
Tom Daschele screamed in vain
I rode a tank
Wore a pretend generals rank
When Iraqi Freedom raged
And the bodies stank
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
Ah, whats puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah
I watched with glee
While your Main Stream Media
Fought for two decades
Over stupid labels they made
I shouted out,
Who hiked up oil prices?
When after all
It was just old me
Let me please introduce myself
I’m a man of wealth and waste
And I laid traps for ambassadors
Who get leaked before they reached Niger
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But whats puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But whats confusing you
Is just the nature of my game
Just as every Dem is a criminal
And all Republicans saints
As war is peace
Just call me Cheney
cause I don’t need of some restraint
So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some fresh human blood, and some babies
Use all your well-learned politesse
Or Ill shoot you in your face, um yeah
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, um yeah
But whats puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, um mean it, get down
Woo, who
Oh yeah, get on down
Oh yeah
Oh yeah!
Tell me baby, whats my name
Tell me honey, can ya guess my name
Tell me baby, whats my name
I tell you one time, you’re to blame
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Novel Intro
About 10 years ago, I actually finished a novel manuscript of around 600 pages. Not bad for a then 28 year old man still struggling to work in the profession he chose.
What the hell made me do this? Like most things in my life, ignited by a fit of anger and boredom. I started writing this in 1995 when I was looking for work in one of the more difficult recessions in Canadian economic history. Took about 2 years to write and about a year to edit it into readable fashion and then a mere 3 months to get an agent.
"Enough about the fucking process, asshole! What's the goddamned story about?"
The story is about two nations, one on the upside and one on the downside and how things go very bad when they collide.
"Big fucking deal. Spare me the geopolitical shit."
Well, it's in a genre that is almost dead these days with comic book adapations and Harry Potter books, the technothriller as popularized by Tom Clancy, Stephen Coonts et al. I figured that I could be an awful writer as well as engineer.
Anyway, As you might have gathered from the label, The Eagle and The Dragon is about the US and China going at it over Taiwan and oil (big shock) found in the South China Sea. The idea of the book is not unique as USAF loving Dale Brown wrote a novel that covered that, but done without any context of history and put more emphasis on the victory by bombing from 25000 crowd (who I've always thought were about as realistic as the Grandmaison French generals of WW1 who believed in willpower over firepower.)
Unlike most technothrillers, I tried to focus in my own stilted way on the human element as much as the weapons.
What the hell made me do this? Like most things in my life, ignited by a fit of anger and boredom. I started writing this in 1995 when I was looking for work in one of the more difficult recessions in Canadian economic history. Took about 2 years to write and about a year to edit it into readable fashion and then a mere 3 months to get an agent.
"Enough about the fucking process, asshole! What's the goddamned story about?"
The story is about two nations, one on the upside and one on the downside and how things go very bad when they collide.
"Big fucking deal. Spare me the geopolitical shit."
Well, it's in a genre that is almost dead these days with comic book adapations and Harry Potter books, the technothriller as popularized by Tom Clancy, Stephen Coonts et al. I figured that I could be an awful writer as well as engineer.
Anyway, As you might have gathered from the label, The Eagle and The Dragon is about the US and China going at it over Taiwan and oil (big shock) found in the South China Sea. The idea of the book is not unique as USAF loving Dale Brown wrote a novel that covered that, but done without any context of history and put more emphasis on the victory by bombing from 25000 crowd (who I've always thought were about as realistic as the Grandmaison French generals of WW1 who believed in willpower over firepower.)
Unlike most technothrillers, I tried to focus in my own stilted way on the human element as much as the weapons.
Welcome?
Welcome to those who found this place.
This blog is just going to a dumping ground of sorts for various things I write.
One feature I will try to upkeep is release a chapter of my unpublished (45 rejection letters through an agent, yeah!) manuscript once a week with notes (mostly of the "What the fuck I was thinking?" variety.) Critiques are welcome (even the ones crapping on it, especially those.)
This blog is just going to a dumping ground of sorts for various things I write.
One feature I will try to upkeep is release a chapter of my unpublished (45 rejection letters through an agent, yeah!) manuscript once a week with notes (mostly of the "What the fuck I was thinking?" variety.) Critiques are welcome (even the ones crapping on it, especially those.)
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