Another New Year. Glad I’m still here. Glad you’re still here. Good to see you again. Up here in Portland we brought in the Annum Novus (I have never learned Latin so somebody tell me if this is wrong, or if it is a type of foreign sedan) with shenanigans galore. Fireworks (accompanied by my sterling improvisational keyboard work)- check. Booze- check. Second degree burns- check. Broken glasses- check. Projectile vomiting- check, check, check. And check.
2005 should be fun year. I’ll be attending the 2005 World Horror Convention in April. And I begin marathon training in July, a month known for its pleasant, balmy, distance-running conducive weather. So at some point this year I’ll probably get heat stroke. I’ve heard brain trauma can be very inspiring for writers so I’m actually looking forward to that.
BIG NEWS for the start of ’05- It’s just been announced that I have won the “2004 Eraserhead Press First Book Contest” for my book Angel Dust Apocalypse. This is a manuscript that I actually sent to them before Siren Promised sold to Bloodletting Press, so luckily I still fit the judging criteria. This book will be out early this year, possibly even before the long-slated Siren Promised. And it’s a doozy. This book pretty much covers every color of my patented “Jeremy Robert Johnson is Effed Up Spectrum.” It should fit in well at Eraserhead’s stable, home of the notorious Carlton Mellick III novel Satan Burger. For more early info, head here.
Also on the slate for 2005- trying to prevent the Bush administration from killing Social Security. I’d prefer to not think of the Boomers as a bunch of clear-cutting parasites. Or at least I’d like to make sure my parents still get their benefits when they retire some twenty years from now. Look back at the last sentence. Look closely at the tiny space between the “w” at the end and the period that follows. That little space right there is one hundred times larger than my trust for Wall Street privatization schemes. Didn’t the base populace already take it deeply enough up the ass on the fabulous “Tech-Boom”? So I’m writing my letters and making calls and signing petitions and doing all the things that are supposed to make the democratic process so great.
I’m trying to stay optimistic. All civilizations eventually fall, but I’d prefer if this one not fall right on us and our children. Let’s move this out a couple of generations and teach our kids to live sustainable and ethical lifestyles and maybe when this ship goes down we’ll have some well-crafted lifeboats. Because if things go belly-up now, or in the next thirty years, well, I just can’t picture it being too rosy.
There’s some mixed-metaphor lefty chatter for y’all. Not what you came looking for, but it’s what you got.
I have grown a beard. It’s pretty shaggy and less writer-riffic than it is transient-tastic. I’m tempted to shave it but it seems to actually be keeping my face warm, of all the wonders.
Hopes for the new year? Pretty much the same as last. Health and happiness for friends and family. Musical success for my friends Mike and Max. More time to spend with my bad-ass nephew, Ryan, who is sweet at crashing toys into other toys. A country-wide realization that the Bush administration’s actual policies do not forward a “Culture of Life.” Asia Argento’s phone number would be nice, too.
Plus, it’d be cool if DIO revived his “Sacred Heart” tour and brought the mystic metal show to P-town. Dragon included. That’d be the best.
aDIOs, por la noche,
JRJ (who on top of not knowing Latin also manages to not know Spanish and is thus multi-unlingual)