Today was the first scouting foray into Fort Worth to shoot the Great Silas End of the World Epic ... or at least get some pictures of some buildings.
There was some desolation but not like after the hideous disease that turned all humans into porcupines. Maybe eight or ten clips were captured and the light was perfect with a mostly cloudy dawn. There was a surprising number of cars as I didn't expect much activity at all.
So, alas, the frogs are fired. I'm completely sure it would be hysterical but I don't want to trivialize what I'm trying to do. This part is to symbolize the emptiness of sitting in a cubicle for thirty years, forgetting what your knees look like because there's always a laptop covering them, taking a computer to the beach, etc, etc. That story doesn't need animated dancing frogs.
The object isn't to get heavy and stiff but to be clear there are two stories to be told and the one with the frogs will keep until there's $100 to spend on it. For now it costs nothing other than the price of fuel to get the footage for the end of the world shoot and that deal works just fine.
(Ed: without the frog love, your point is shot all to hell)
Not so. The point is still simple: music is the salvation. That's not going to tangle with religion as salvation takes many forms, even for frogs. The end of the world scene will set the stage musically and visually followed by the big flash bang moment when it cuts back to the Rockhouse. It would be cooler with dancing Munchkins but I haven't seen any around.
(Ed: what about the CD?)
Multi-processing isn't doing twelve things at the same time but rather doing things when it's appropriate to do them and fifty-megaton music at this particular time would suck worse than chocolate anchovies. (Maybe they don't suck. Try one and let me know.)
The current plan is to go back down there tomorrow morning. Today was impulse as the light was right, the time was right, and I wasn't buzzed. I can drive just fine when I'm stoned ... but I don't. Believe it or not as you will but I'm not going to be the one who whacks some chill'uns because I was lighting a joint.
So, tomorrow morning, all those good Texans will be in church or up in Oklahoma at the casinos on the Indian reservations so I'll take another drive.
(Ed: does God listen to prayers that come from gambling casinos?)
Just a wild guess but I'm thinking it's a negatory on that one, Brother Joshua.
There was some desolation but not like after the hideous disease that turned all humans into porcupines. Maybe eight or ten clips were captured and the light was perfect with a mostly cloudy dawn. There was a surprising number of cars as I didn't expect much activity at all.
So, alas, the frogs are fired. I'm completely sure it would be hysterical but I don't want to trivialize what I'm trying to do. This part is to symbolize the emptiness of sitting in a cubicle for thirty years, forgetting what your knees look like because there's always a laptop covering them, taking a computer to the beach, etc, etc. That story doesn't need animated dancing frogs.
The object isn't to get heavy and stiff but to be clear there are two stories to be told and the one with the frogs will keep until there's $100 to spend on it. For now it costs nothing other than the price of fuel to get the footage for the end of the world shoot and that deal works just fine.
(Ed: without the frog love, your point is shot all to hell)
Not so. The point is still simple: music is the salvation. That's not going to tangle with religion as salvation takes many forms, even for frogs. The end of the world scene will set the stage musically and visually followed by the big flash bang moment when it cuts back to the Rockhouse. It would be cooler with dancing Munchkins but I haven't seen any around.
(Ed: what about the CD?)
Multi-processing isn't doing twelve things at the same time but rather doing things when it's appropriate to do them and fifty-megaton music at this particular time would suck worse than chocolate anchovies. (Maybe they don't suck. Try one and let me know.)
The current plan is to go back down there tomorrow morning. Today was impulse as the light was right, the time was right, and I wasn't buzzed. I can drive just fine when I'm stoned ... but I don't. Believe it or not as you will but I'm not going to be the one who whacks some chill'uns because I was lighting a joint.
So, tomorrow morning, all those good Texans will be in church or up in Oklahoma at the casinos on the Indian reservations so I'll take another drive.
(Ed: does God listen to prayers that come from gambling casinos?)
Just a wild guess but I'm thinking it's a negatory on that one, Brother Joshua.
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