Category: WWdN in Exile

turns out this post is all about stand by me

Posted on By Wil

I have to keep reminding myself that I can compose offline in ecto. Oh, related to that: I really like ecto, and feel comfortable endorsing it and recommending it to anyone who is looking for a full-featured offline editor for their blog.

Anyway, I guess AMC ran Stand By Me on DVD TV last night. Apparently, I’m the only person in the world who didn’t know about this, because I got tons of e-mail about it, and it appears that a lot of people who’ve never read my blog before are dropping by today to see what it’s all about. That fills me with performance anxiety, and makes me wish I had one of those “my favorite posts” posts to point you to. Maybe my Best of 2006 entry (which was a cleverly disguised starting point for The Happiest Days of Our Lives ) or a story like Blue Light Special would give you an idea of what I typically blather on about on my particular section of the ‘tubes.

OH! You know what I just thought? It would be totally cool — well, cool for me, anyway — if some readers wanted to leave links to their favorite posts in the comments. That way, I could, you know, lazyweb my way to a “readers favorites” post at some point in the future.

AMC has some really terrific blogs now, including a Sci-Fi blog that John Scalzi’s contributing to. There’s a post in their Future Classics blog that Stand By Me fans will probably enjoy about how Stephen King’s childhood inspired Stand By Me.

I really wish I’d seen it, because I’m always interested to know if other people remember things the same way I did, and because it’s really fun to know what else was going on outside of my 12 year-old acting bubble.

I guess they said that I was “upset” that Gordie never got his baseball cap back from Ace, which isn’t entirely accurate. I remember asking Rob why Gordie didn’t make Ace give him back his Yankees cap at the end of the movie, since it seemed like the sort of thing that should happen if Gordie and his friends “won.” (This made perfect sense to me when I was 12.)

Rob said that Ace didn’t keep the cap, and threw it away as soon as he walked around the corner. It wasn’t about the cap, Rob told me, as much as it was about Ace being cruel.

I learned a lot about filmmaking and storytelling in that conversation with Rob, and I still feel its influence on my creative life.

AMC also said that Kiefer Sutherland was a bully to all of us in real life. I don’t remember it that way at all, though I know Corey and Jerry have both said that he was pretty tough on them — method acting, I guess. It was different for me; I was certainly intimidated by him, but I don’t recall him going out of his way to be cruel or anything when the cameras weren’t rolling. In fact, my two clearest memories of him are being afraid that he was going to accidentally burn River’s face with the cigarette near the beginning of the movie, and that he wanted me to point the gun straight at his face near the end of the movie, which made me nervous, even though it wasn’t loaded.

Okay, one more memory and then I really have to get back to work: In that final scene, when Gordie pulls the gun on Ace, my instinct was to yell at him, like I was trying to intimidate him (again, this made sense when I was 12.) Rob let me rehearse it that way, and then he very calmly pulled me aside and asked me to try it again, but to keep my voice quieter. “Let the gun do the talking,” he said. “It’s more powerful.”

I was 12, so I said that I thought I should do it my way. (Ah, the impertinence of youth, how glad I am to be rid of it.) Rob nodded patiently and said, “Okay, listen to this.” He took a few steps away, and pointed his finger at my face. “No, Ace, just you,” he said. Gravely, quietly, seriously.

Then, he pulled that finger back and held it up.

“Now,” he said, “listen to this.” He took a deep breath, pointed his finger at my face again, and screamed, “NO ACE JUST YOU!”

His voice echoed off the river, as he asked, “Which one is scarier? Which one is stronger?”

I laughed nervously. “It’s scarier when you yell at me, but it’s stronger to be quiet, which is guess is scarier if you’re Ace.” I said.

“So let’s try it that way,” he said, kindly.

People always give me credit for being great in that movie. The truth is, I don’t think I deserve as much credit for it as I’m frequently given. I think back on my limited experience and my silly ideas, and then I see what a magnificent performance Rob Reiner coaxed out of me. The difference is striking.

Stand By Me is a classic film because of Jane Jenkins and Janet Hirshenson, who cast it, Rob Reiner,who directed it, Andy Scheinman, who produced it, and Ray Gideon and Bruce Evans, who wrote it. I was really good at taking direction, so I’ll take a little credit for that, but all of us were standing on the shoulders of giants.

classic photos redone in lego

Posted on By Wil

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Fans of Lego, photography, design, history, or things that are just plain awesome* will love this photoset on Flickr, where Flickr user Balakov has recreated famous photographs, from the raising of the flag on Iwo Jima to Maradona’s infamous Hand of God, using Lego minifigures and close-up photography.

Links to the original photos are included, so you can fully enjoy how incredibly awesome this is.

I’d like to point out that Balakov has released all of these images under a Creative Commons license, and is offering prints for sale.

Come on, seriously: how much does this rule?

(via geekdad)

*If you drew a Venn diagram of those things, I’d be in the middle of it.

in which i wear a red hat and travel by vine

Posted on By Wil

Wils_red_hat This totally made my day week, and I wonder if this is how Cory Doctorow and Stallman[1] felt when they were in xkcd?

You know, things like this have been happening to me more and more frequently lately, and while it’s still very hard get used to, it’s genuinely wonderful to feel cooler than I really am, even if it’s only for a few fleeting seconds.

Thank you, mysterious creator of Abstruse Goose!

[1] Does Stallman feel things like the rest of us do? I’m a little afraid to go exploring through that twisty maze of passages, all alike, to find out. It is very dark, I’m afraid.[2]

[2] If you understood any of that, congratulations, you’re a Geek. If you went exploring to figure out what it all meant, you just gained a level in Geek. If you feel compelled to argue about these footnotes, immediately gain another level in Geek, and lose a turn.

squawking like a pink monkey bird

Posted on By Wil

After the great post-eating disaster of 2008, I’ve elected to experiment with offline composition tools until I get distracted by shiny objects or I find one that I really like. My two candidates are Ecto and MarsEdit. I actually used Ecto quite a lot until I upgraded to Leopard and it expressed its allegiance to Tiger by refusing to work. Luckily for me, the developers gave it a nice talking to and the most recent version appears to play nicely with 10.5.x. I suppose we’ll really test that theory out when I hit publish, won’t we?

So, rather than make this one of those “testing . . . testing . . . is this thing on?” entries we all make from time to time, I thought I’d take a moment to share some links:

I’ve begun playing pmog. I figure that if I’m on the goddamn internet all day, I may as well rack up meaningless badges and add an extra layer of fun to my whole experience. I’m a mighty level 3, and I’m not quite ready to reveal my player name.

Warren Ellis has been doing a free weekly online comic called Freakangels. It’s been running for a couple of months now, and I absolutely love it. Unlike most of the serials I’ve read over the years (Green Mile, I’m looking in your direction), this one works in both short weekly installments and as a longer narrative arc when you read several episodes at once.

There’s a new version of Propeller in the works. I’ve seen it, and I’m just blown away by what it can do. There’s some official talk about it on Newsquake. Hear me now: Propeller is the future of social news, and the new Propeller is going to redefine the standard for a social news community. I can’t remember the last time I was so excited about something like this. Disclosure for the seven people who don’t know this: I work for Propeller as a scout.

Some dipshit at TBS thinks that it’s a really great idea to interrupt a show — by pausing the show in the middle of dialog — to run annoying interstitial advertising. This has to be seen to fully appreciate the magnitude of idiocy on display here. I submitted the link to Propeller a few days ago, and posted the video in my Vox blog.

Yes, I have a blog at Vox — mostly for pictures and videos — because what I really need is another fucking blog.

Ecto is as easy and full-featured as I remember it. I especially like how it handles creating links. Just for grins, here’s an Ecto-created Amazon link to Interzone by William S. Burroughs. There’s a story in Interzone called The Junky’s Christmas that is one of my favorite things he ever did. I was introduced to it when someone gave me the CD Spare Ass Annie and Other Tales, where Burroughs performs some of his work. Unlike a lot of authors who really should stick to the writing, Burroughs, like Charlie Stross and Neal Stephenson, just make their work something — well, the best I can come up with is more — when they read it. In fact, I think the best way to experience Burroughs is to listen to him perform it.

I just found out this very moment, through the magic of the googles, that The Junky’s Christmas was adapted into a weird and avant garde claymation movie in the early 90s. There’s a short clip from it on YouTube.

Have I mentioned before that Burroughs is one of my primary influences? It’s a little strange, because I don’t write anything like he did, but something about reading and listening to him accelerated my desire to write more than just a series of journal entries when I was in my early twenties. My first short story, called Scene Missing was heavily inspired by stories in Naked Lunch.

Okay, I am not making this up: in the middle of the last paragraph, my machine’s screen saver turned on, and it refused to wake the screen up. This is the second time it’s happened to me this week, and I had . . . an episode . . . while I shut down the motherfucker and restarted it. I thought it was the second time in two days that I’d worked on a blog entry and lost it to the land of wind and ghosts.

But! It turns out that Ecto has an auto-save feature which meant I only lost half a paragraph instead of an entire entry. For that reason alone, Ecto is a HUGE SUCCESS.

I’m off to lunch with a friend of mine who just got laid off from TokyoPop. I think we’re going to plan global domination together.

. . . I am now hitting publish, and hoping for the best.

in which a book builds a bridge

Posted on By Wil

Earlier today, I spent about an hour composing a post, filled with links to groovy stories I’d found in the last couple of days while I found links to submit to Propeller. I added brilliantly trenchant commentary to each link, in what was destined to become a post for the ages.

You, dear reader, would have been so awed by the majesty of this post, you’d sign up for Propeller, and join me in the world of social news bookmarking. We’d form a network of like-minded people — a social news Voltron, if you will — and soon all of our stories would find their way to the front page, for great justice.

Satisfied with my work, I hit publish, and began clearing my shelf for the inevitable awards that would soon follow.

When I returned to my computer, the browser said, "Hey, Wil, just thought you’d like to know that the post you made has been saved. Enjoy your awards!"

I thanked it, opened up my blog to bask in the glow of my brilliance, and saw that the post wasn’t there.

TypePad ate it. Destroyed it. Sent it off into the land of wind and ghosts. I stared at the computer, agog, until my mouth dried out and my jaw grew sore. I couldn’t believe that it was just . . . gone. It was like it never existed.

After much furious . . . behavior . . . and fruitless searching for the post in question (which TypePad claims just doesn’t exist, like I didn’t spend an hour putting the goddamn thing together) I will now attempt to recreate the part of the post that was the most important to me:

Have you read Little Brother? I tore through it in about 4 days, and absolutely loved it. I gave it to Nolan when I finished, because I thought he’d enjoy it, and it would give us something cool that we could share.

I don’t know what it’s like for other parents of teenagers out there, but getting Nolan to pick up a book for more than three pages has been nearly impossible for the last eighteen months or so. He used to love reading, but  . . . well, there are new friends at school this year. ’nuff said.

I don’t have scientific data to back me up, but I’ve anecdotally witnessed a direct relationship between someone’s willingness to read and their level of education, success, expectations for themselves, and general, uh, interestingness they bring to the table. I guess that makes me one of those "elitists" we keep hearing about, but with that in mind, you may understand why it’s been pretty damn important to me that I instill a love of reading in my kids.

"I read this in about four days," I told him when I presented the book to him, "and I would have read it faster if I’d had more time. Once it gets going, it’s hard to put down."

"Okay," he said, "I’ll give it a try."

"I’d really like to have this thing to share with you, and I know that you’re haven’t been all that inter– What?"

"I’ll give it a try," he said.

"Wow. That was easier than I expected." I thought.

I didn’t ask, but I secretly hoped that maybe he wanted to have something like this to share with me as much as I wanted to have something to share with him. Stranger things have happened.

"Okay, cool." I said.

"But I’m probably not going to finish it as fast as you did," he said.

"I totally understand," I said. "No pressure, and I won’t take it personally if you don’t dig it."

I set it down on the desk next to him while he played Diablo and walked back into my office. The symbolism of this gesture was not intentional, but also was not lost on me.

A little while later, I walked back out into the living room, and found him sitting on the couch, reading. He appeared to be about 50 pages into it.

"What do you think?" I said.

He held up one finger in the universal "wait a minute" gesture, and continued to read.

"What?" he said.

"I asked you what you thought, so far."

"It’s pretty good," he said, noncommittally, before he went back to reading.

"Cool," I said. I couldn’t believe he was already that far into the book, and though his words were carefully chosen, his body language said that it was much more than just "pretty good." Rather than press the issue, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of iced green tea.

Later that night, I noticed that he was sitting in the chair by our family iMac, but instead of playing games or talking to his friends on iChat, he had his head cocked to one side, Little Brother open in his lap. He’d made some serious progress in the book. I noticed that he had Firefox open to a Google search about [spoiler redacted].

I nudged Anne and pointed to Nolan.

"He’s been reading that pretty much non-stop since you gave it to him," she said quietly.

"That rules," I said.

Over the next two days, I’d see him sitting on the couch, sitting in my favorite reading chair in our den, sitting in the chair by the iMac. He was always in the same pose, head cocked to one side, Little Brother open in his lap. We talked a little bit about the characters and the events in the book, and he asked me lots and lots of questions about the technology and real-life issues Cory presents in the book.

Flashback: Long before Little Brother was published, I had dinner with Cory. He told me that he was working on this book for teens that was supposed to have lots of real-life lessons in it about privacy, security and civil liberties. At the time, he told me how he hoped kids would read it and head to Google after each chapter to learn more. Nolan was doing exactly that.

Yesterday was the third day since I gave Nolan the book. After school, he bounded into the house and flew into my office. I looked up from my work and saw him holding Little Brother in outstretched arms.

"I love this book!" He said. "I seriously can’t put it down!"

"That’s awesome," I said, "but it’s not interfering with your schoolwork, is it?"

"No," he said, "I’m reading between classes, and only in class when I’ve finished my work and made sure the teacher was cool with it."

I loved it that he took it to school with him. He’s been spending more time than I’d like with non-reading, non-motivated kids who are, I fear, really in danger of holding Nolan back from realizing his potential. It’s a small step (and maybe it’s only temporary) but I was nevertheless thrilled that he was reading at school, unafraid of what his current peer group would think. I was hopeful that escape velocity would soon follow.

"That’s great, Nolan," I said. "I’m so happy to hear that you’re enjoying it."

We talked a little bit more about some of the events that had unfolded in the book that day, and he pointed out that he had about 100 pages to go.

"I want to finish it right now!" He said, before pulling the book close into his chest and hugging it. He lowered his voice and dramatically added, "But . . . I must wait. I must . . . savor it."

I laughed with him. "Don’t you love it when you’re into a book that’s so good, you don’t want it to be over?"

"YES!" He said, before he raced back out of my office.

"I haven’t seen him this excited about anything in months," I thought. "This is better than I ever could have hoped for." I made a mental note to send Cory a thank you card.

After dinner last night, I found him in the living room, sitting in the chair in front of the iMac. The room was dim, mostly lit by the glow of the computer’s monitor. It silhouetted Nolan’s now-familiar stance, head cocked to one side, book open in his lap. It was, for me, a "remember this" moment.

He must have sensed me standing there, because he turned around and said, "Eighty pages to go, but I’m really stopping now. I’m going to finish this tomorrow."

I remembered all the times I’ve gotten close to the end of a book and put off finishing it. I remembered the way it felt to sit in the pull between wanting to know what happens and not wanting it to be over. I could see that Nolan was enjoying that feeling himself. I chose not to point it out.

"I’m so glad you’re into this," I said. "I’m really glad we’ve been able to share this book."

"Me too," he said.

Earlier today, while I was writing the first version of this post, Nolan sent me a text message that said, "OMG it’s over!!! So great, so great!!"

I sent back "Ha! I was just writing in my blog about how much you liked it. Yay!"

He replied, "Yeah, pretty amazing."

My heart swelled. I wonder what he’ll read next?