Author: admin

It occurs to me that I have been on this planet for 44 years and, given my racial makeup, I might not have that much time left. A recent study conducted in Philly discovered that 40% of black men studied had hypertension. Only one in three of those were obese. This led to a surprisingly low life expectancy of 69. I’ve watched many black men in and just outside of my circle of known associates pass away in the last decade and that should’ve been the warning sign for me. It wasn’t. In fact it was a deep cleaning at the dentist that informed me that I was suffering from Stage 2 hypertension and, truth be told, close to cardiac arrest.

Let me repeat that. I am a 44 yr old man on the edge of a heart attack. That is something I do not understand. I know far heavier people and less healthy people than myself and while they suffer from issues none seem on the verge of stroke or heart attacks. If the numbers are to be taken at face value, I’m really not going to make it much longer unless I get this stuff under control. Sadly, that will mean changes in my life I don’t want to and have not presently made.

It is supposed to mean the end of coffee. I’m not there yet. I know it raises my BP, which is deep in the red of Stage 2 already (or perhaps because of the coffee…). I don’t want that part of my life to go away. I truly enjoy the caffeine rush and the energy that comes from it. I have made that a part of my daily life and wish to continue in that way.

I am ready to fix the rest. I am back in the gym. I am trying to eat right. I am taking a number of herbal supplements. I am trying everything available in order to create a situation where I don’t die. I just hope it is not too late.

So that is my something blue. There is a real possibility that I leave this mortal coil without ever marrying my true love; without seeing a single birth kid graduate; without writing a truly great story.

I must find a way to avoid that premature ending.

I’m fairly certain the world as we know it is going to shit. I know, that people say this every few decades and are basically wrong. Still, this Trump stuff… I’m shocked at the level of stupidity we are willing to tolerate just so the ‘right people’ can stay in power. This is a disgrace on a global scale. This is one of the most egregious abusers of power we’ve seen in the last 50 years and he is destroying everything we’ve achieved post 2001. That is not going away. Not unless he goes away and we spend a long time repairing our world image over multiple presidents.

The thing is, I don’t see that happening. We will probably re-elect the fool, because people just don’t care. I was able to catch the newest episode of Saturday Night Live. One quote from the show: “Ain’t nothin gonna happen.”

So, here we are. Quite possibly in the twilight of the reality we’ve known thus far. It may be good to point out right now that we are starting to see evidence of multiple extra-galactic ‘projectiles’ shooting through our solar system. What this means to most is… nothing. What this means to me the sci-fi writer is that someone from outside of out galaxy is shooting at us and, given the complexities of solar-based gravity wells, they’ve been missing the target. I think the target is the sun. I think they have every reason to shoot us out of existence.

Some Thoughts:

1. One of the posts got stuck in the draft list, so I had to figure out what day it was and post it… late. I think it was Saturday.

I’ve been moving (slowly) towards getting back into developing characters for the worlds I write in. The primary world I write in is not my own. I write a great deal of material for Shadowrun and that world is constantly in flux. It is not the only world I write in. The rest are all of my creation. I’ve been thinking about one fantasy world in particular. It is a world that is moving further away from the time of blades and towards the engines of steampunk.

Today I want to write out a character from that unusual land. I tend to write female characters as my secondary characters (dang near primarily it seems). So I am going to challenge myself with making a male secondary character.

His name is Ulf and he is a ‘Shield’ which is an organization of security workers who answer not to the crown but to the private baron who owns them. The Shields presently work in service of the book–which I am imagining as a way to describe the religious order. Ulf has not decided what he wants his life to be but his service to the Shields is non negotiable. He feels the organization is the only way he can possibly balance his need for violence and his need to feel in control of something.

There is more about him, but I am out of time for now.

This is not new information, but it bears reminding: All stories are, at the source, about people responding to difficulty within their lives. This is something we all know, but as Orwell was quick to point out, “we have now sunk to a depth where restatement of the obvious is the first duty of intelligent men.” I recognized this issue in myself over the last few days. I recognized it in all of the really good stories I’ve been reading and shows I have been watching. The good ones, at their core, are about flawed people. They are not necessarily about fixing those flaws, but more about how those flaws make them human and impact the way they deal with the world around them. Equally important is the realization that these characters–these richly imagined characters–have vibrant lives outside of the story being told and those lives fully impact the story being told. People matter, and they matter most of all in regards to story.

Some Thoughts:

1. The more I read and listen and watch, the more I am building towards telling intelligent and engaging stories. I hesitate to say again, because I am not going back to something old I have once been, but becoming the newest iteration of myself as an author.
2. And as a father.
3. And a partner come husband one day (I imagine)
4. And as a friend.
5. That being said, I need to become a better human, physically. More vitamins, better eating, more exercise.

Learning happened today. It was messy and feelings were hurt, but students learned a little about a little. I think that is how it ought to be.

We were talking about rhetorical analysis in my 101 english class and I offered them a chance to take a dry run of what they’d be doing–low stakes stuff where they tried to break down a five minute film and talk about how that film makes an argument about an abstract idea. They were given the choice to focus on Hope or Loneliness. Most failed the challenge. Publicly. And I told them about themselves. All of that is needed. Public criticism is the stuff that hurts but it is also the stuff that sticks. We tend to forget that which we can allow ourselves to ignore and pretend did not happen.

102 was a different beast entirely. We spent the period talking about flaws in human thinking and understanding as well as the vividness effect. Then I challenged them to rank the sports with the most concussions per player based on a list I provided. Nobody got it right, which is also part of the experience. That offered me a window to further discuss and demonstrate why we believe what we believe and the consequences of our emotional attachments to what we have decided to be the truth. A student was very angry, because his reality–captured in what he has seen and experienced in his life–ran contrary to the published research. So, of course, the research had to be wrong. He became angry and sought to find evidence to support his position as opposed to find evidence that provided an answer that could be tested. I called him out on it, expressing to him that though his reality is one thing (X), it may not reflect the reality everywhere (A through Z -X). He got it after a while, but still fought the thought.

Regardless, he learned, which is all I wanted.

Daniel Jones. He’s the savior! Maybe. Honestly, Daniel Jones is fundamentally the reason why the Giants offense will work moving forward, even without their pro Bowl RB for a few months—even the reason why, once he returns, they’ll be playoffs dangerous. Daniel ‘Dimes’ Jones displayed and represents an aspect of the offense that the Giants have been missing since Hostettler departed for warmer shores. He represents a threat to run from the QB position.

Everyone knows Manning cannot run. He is worse than Brady in that respect (okay, in every respect). Because his mobility is so limited the line has to be far more secure than it can be. Defenses can pin their ears back and flat out bring it—leaving 3 linebackers in space to deal with the RB. That changes with Jones back there. If they over-pursue then Jones is free to escape and possibly score as he did twice last week against Tampa team that plays some legit D. Will this work all season? No. He is going to make rookie mistakes and fumble and have issues with picks down the road, but he is going to do enough to take pressure off the secondary so they can actually have a few weeks to get their crap together and learn how to play together. Yeah, hope springs eternal.

The same can be said for my fantasy life. Hope springs eternal in each league with a series of recent wins and picks that solidified my lineup—for now. I’m still streaming, btw. In the money league I go week to week at multiple positions, but the goal is to lock myself into the playoffs and then find the players who can carry me through. That is, again, where Jones comes in.

I am entering into a brand new teaching unit where I compare information to a virus and discuss the way this contagion is spread and how to combat the spread of malicious ideas. I am doing this because it is necessary and also because it is interesting. Years ago I read a book called Thought Contagion. That in addition with a handful of books about reshaping undergraduate writing and research led me down the path towards having student explore the idea of truth and the idea of ideas overall. Today we started talking about the ‘bad ideas’ they wanted to combat with these new skills and I think I am in love with this strategy.

The world is full of ‘false facts’ or even ‘alternative facts’. What I did was allow the students to pitch the ones they heard and that mattered to them and form groups based on selection of ideas. Thought memes (once upon a time there was no other kind) became a kind of cause for them. They really got into the idea of challenging commonly held beliefs in a way that allowed them to get not only to the root of the truth but to start to understand why people are susceptible to belief and how to use that understanding in order to communicate with audiences.

Some Thoughts:

1. Not a lot to say today. I’m headed out to a concert and hope to have an amazing experience. Early date night!
2. Speaking of early, I am early into my film study of this week’s opposing team and I am looking forward to the opportunity to have a piece of mind on the sideline as I explain to the players what they should expect and what to observe and look out for in particular when they line up on both sides of the ball. Should be another really fun weekend of games.

Immersion. That is the key. I have learned that when I am fully immersed in the world of stories, I am deeply interested and excited about the idea of writing and being a writer. I am better off writing and reading. It makes me deeply creative and happy in a way that little else approaches. I’ve been reading in the car via audiobook and, lately, I have been reading print works as well. The only other way to ingest story left is film, and while I haven’t been watching anything of legit value, I intend to get back on the train of that as well.

This is mental health. I feel like there is a lot I gain by falling into stories. It keeps me in a better state of mind. I worry less and I feel like I have something to look forward to in each moment of transition time. It does often feel like I am escaping silence, and there is a part of me that both believes and accepts that. I like moments of silence, but I also enjoy the input of stories that prime the engine of my own stories and allow me to understand what is possible and often reinforce what I believe I am capable of doing.

I think reading print is the best part of it. Not on a screen, but an actual print book. A perfect afternoon is feet in the pool and book in hand, absorbing another human’s fantasy or nightmare and learning through that how to share my own.

Some Thoughts:

1. Great moment for the Giants… more on that tomorrow.
2. Great stuff in Youth football too. I believe we have a shot at the ‘ship at multiple levels…

I spent some time this weekend playing Minecraft with my first born. He’s quite the youtube junkie and the ‘craft has come back around to being cool on certain channels, so he and the littles are once again interested. I’m a builder by nature. I build structures and walls and cities and try to create massive weapons rooms full of all the treasure one can imagine. He is about the exploration and the destruction of key Mobs. Our weekend was about taking down the Ender Dragon using strategies gleaned from hours of youtube.

It didn’t work. I mean we killed the thing, but we died multiple times in the process and lost all sorts of XP. Oh, and all our hard fought gear. Still, it was good to accomplish something with my son, and that was the goal from the start.

Some Thoughts:

1. The lack of sleep has not lessened.
2. I am truly getting old. As a kid I could avoid sleep for a couple of days and be fine. As a grown man it is not the case.
3. I think that the tower is on hold for a bit. I mean to finish it, but I do not know what to put in the darn thing. What I do want/need in this world is my own place. The others who join into the world spawn quite close to the tower, so that is less private. What I want is a sprawling location just far enough off the grid that they won’t come looking. I’m thinking back to the batcave motif where I put a house on the edge of a small village I’ve perhaps walled off to look like a keep (I do that quite a bit). Once I have the populace set up as I want (for trading) I can start digging below the earth and creating a massive open mining space where I can test out new and borrowed inventions.
4. Maybe I’ll make it a wizard tower and merely fence off the town to keep the people safe.

Perhaps all of the old literature and platitudes are correct. Perhaps you do b begin to appreciate life more once you recognize that it is not everlasting. Yesterday I was (self)diagnosed with hypertension. I clocked in at 150/114, which is at the top of stage 1 hypertension and dangerous to my body overall. I have not seen a doctor in well over a decade. I stopped going when she stopped practicing in order to have a baby. I don’t live in an environment where adults are regularly encouraged to seek medical help. However, at word of this my partner demanded I get seen. I will–I’ve put in for the appointment. In the meanwhile I am facing the reality that reality could end a great deal sooner than expected.

The mind is a powerful tool. That tool can be used to negative purpose as I have discovered since yesterday, making the problem worse by focusing so much on it. I spent the bulk of the day going through the stages of ‘medical grief.’ I started with denial. While at the dentist I was told my blood pressure was too high for a specific type of anesthetic. I freaked. After the procedure I went to two different stores to take their free blood pressure tests. Some were worse than others, but the number above is the number I am going with. I denied until I could no longer deny. Numbers don’t lie. That led to a self reflective period during which I charted my habits post college and decided that all of this was indeed my fault. I have not taken good care of myself or my life since…. ever I suppose. I quickly accepted the responsibility and moved towards the bargaining phase. I wasn’t bargaining with God, but with my own body. I told myself I would be better. I promised myself cheat days, and by doing so silently acquiesced to needing a new lifestyle. Less stress. Less alcohol. More sleep. More exercise.

I fell into a state of depression and disappointment. I felt bad about the changes I needed to make and the choices I’d made and the situation I’d gotten myself into. I felt like I let everyone in my life down–most of all a partner whose life was turned upside down and inside out as a result of knowing me and, eventually, loving me. I felt sorry for her and guilty and depressed for myself. I got angry again–a microcosm of the stages balled into a 20 minute shower where I let the scalding water roll down my back, stripping away everything that led to that moment.

Then I remembered that I wasn’t dead. Not yet. I am not through the stages. I have no plan. I do have that moment of light between the clouds. I do have something to heal for. I have someone to live for. I have things left to do.