The Bridge

I read a story once of a man who was living in San Francisco. He committed suicide by throwing himself off of the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco Bay.

Later, when the police and medical examiners were gathering up the man's personal belongings at his apartment, they found a handwritten note on his bureau:

"I'm going to walk to the bridge. If one person smiles at me on the way, I will not jump."

-----

In November of this year, I sat on a bridge in Wisconsin with a gun in my hand. I sat there on the bridge for at least an hour. At least a dozen people walked past me in that time.

Not one of them tried to stop me.

-----

Here's to the new year. May she be a damned sight better than the old one.

Germany?

Ahoy, boys and girls. Captain Panda back again, after a good long hiatus from blogging.

Thanks, Webster...

For those of you that pay attention to me on Ye Olde Book of Faces, you'll know that...well...shit has been going down these past few weeks. I spent a little time in the hospital for suicidal tendencies, and I've been kind of on a slope downward since then.

I would go deeper into what it was that sent me to this place, but I don't really think that the one guy in Germany who reads my blog needs to know that. If you really want to know, you'll have to ask directly.

Deutschland? Ernst? Wer liest meinen Blog in Deutschland?

So, anyway, there's that. Crap's been happening. And you know, there's something that makes it a whole lot worse:

Back when I posted initially about the, well, 'incident' that put me in the hospital, there were a lot of people out there that came out of the woodwork and offered words of support and encouragement and, well, just general caring. And it helped a great deal, and for those of you that did, thank you all. I appreciate every single one of you beyond words.

However, there's something of a trend that I've observed: every single one of those people who offered their support has someone very special to them in their lives. Husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, etc.

And I don't have that.

Now, like I said, I'm not discounting them at all. I'm very grateful for all of it. But it's a lot easier to say that things will get better when you have someone like that standing by your side.

...what? No...*sigh*

Since the incident, I've really wanted nothing more than someone to talk to, and someone who would listen without pretense. Not even necessarily romantically (though it would be nice) more like a best friend, someone that I can call at 3 in the morning and talk to about anything and everything. A lot of people have offered that I can talk to them, but no one really knows me that well. It's awkward for me to talk to people about such personal things anyway, let alone someone who really doesn't know me.

Which, I suppose is part of the reason that it got so bad in the first place. Nobody to really talk to, so I internalize it. And that's not healthy.

So, I'm not sure of where I'll get to in the near future. I hope I'll be better, but I really don't know. Will I find a best friend? Will I find love? Will I overcome the demons that haunt me? Find out next time on...

What? No, dammit. I mean "Eats Shoots and Leaves." This blog thing that I do. Stupid dramatic side.

Until next time, boys and girls.

Also, seriously, who is reading my blog in Germany?

Pedestrian Traffic Flow

I hate department stores. And I'll tell you why.

Imagine the typical layout of a department store for a moment...

Yeah, I know it's a grocery store, but the principle's the same.

Notice that there are many different places for people to walk or push carts and strollers: big, wide lanes around the outer ring, many aisles containing many different foodstuffs, plus various alleys and shortcuts to different departments. Seems simple enough.

Now ask yourself this: does this setup remind you of anything?

Hmm?

It sure reminds me of a city road system. I mean, think about it: the larger lanes around the outside are the highways, the various aisles are the local streets, and the shortcuts are alleys and driveways. And that's how I tend to treat department stores.

Now, when we learn to drive, we learn that there are certain rules to driving, and a certain 'flow' that traffic must take.

Whoa...heavy, man.

Now, these rules, such as 'slower traffic stay to the right,' and 'don't come to a stop in the middle of an intersection,' help traffic to flow much safer and smoother, and (when they're followed, at least) help to prevent accidents and keep drivers happy and peaceful.

Until some asshole in a Prius cuts you off on an on-ramp, that is...

But for some stupid reason, when people get out of their cars, this concept of traffic flow just goes right out the fucking window.

In the department store, people are walking right towards each other in the same lane, blocking aisles with their carts while they wander off for orange juice, walking at a snail's pace down the middle of the aisle, preventing anyone else from going around them. Which seriously pisses me off.

And, see, this kind of inconsideracy is generally annoying anywhere, like parks, or sidewalks, or sculpture gardens, or other places like that. But when you're in a department store, or grocery store, that annoyance is exacerbated, because you're in a confined space. You don't have the option of cutting across the lawn or the street to get around the slow people.

Which is why the Minneapolis Skyway system frustrated me so much.

And the fact that some people out there just don't get it is what drives me crazy.

...

I feel better now.

Good night, boys and girls.

Just A Short Notice

Ahoy, boys and girls, Captain Panda here again, with just a short notice about the (potential) state of upcoming posts on Eats Shoots and Leaves:

If you'll notice...

I was diagnosed with clinical depression a few years ago (in case you couldn't already tell) Like many people who have clinical depression, my sad and lonely feelings tend to get worse during the winter months. I don't have Seasonal Affective Disorder or anything like that, it just seems to get worse when it gets colder. I don't know why, and I don't really care why. I just try to deal.

So, why am I telling you this? Well, unfortunately, as my depression gets worse, my posts will most likely get more depressing in direct proportion. It just kinda happens. I'll do my best to keep things as light-hearted and interesting as I can, but I won't be able to stop all of the depressing posts. Sorry. Fair warning.

So, that's all I have. Just wanted to put that out there. Until next time, boys and girls!

A Political Interlude: The Second Amendment

Ahoy there, boys and girls! Captain Panda here!

In just a few days, the people of the United States will come together and collectively choose the people who will run our great country for the next four years. Well, sort of. I mean, there's the whole thing about the popular vote, and the electoral college, and all that crap, which I don't really understand, and am not going to waste time on in this post. Unfortunately, since I'm currently living in fucking Wisconsin, I will be unable to vote this time around because I won't be able to make it back to my polling place, and was unable to make it to vote absentee.

And all I can do is watch and hope that this harmful amendment doesn't pass. Vote No.

In the weeks leading up to the elections, the amount of political ads have skyrocketed (as they always do) and we Americans have been bombarded with spinster messages and hateful ads trying to tell us who we should vote for. Like many, I am really sick of all of the political ads, and just want the election to be over so I don't have to hear about it anymore.

Make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!

But I was watching a YouTube video recently, and an ad interrupted the video that caught my attention. It was an ad for some Wisconsin senatorial candidate, and was talking about how, in a recent Supreme Court vote, the Second Amendment to the Constitution was saved from repeal by only one vote.

Whether it's true or not, it scared the hell out of me.

Now, before you freak out, let me talk a little bit and explain.

I grew up in an outdoor family. We camped, we fished, and yes, we hunted. I've been around firearms for most of my life. I enjoy shooting, I own a couple of guns, and I know how to properly and safely handle firearms in general. And, yes, I support the Second Amendment.

But even if I didn't, the idea of repealing the Second Amendment would still scare me to death.

To understand what I'm talking about, let's look at the actual text of the Second Amendment to the United States Constitution:

There are two big reasons that this Amendment became controversial. Firstly, as the United States Armed Forces became larger and more well armed, the idea of a private militia became unnecessary. Since the Army has bases all over the country and modern transportation methods can get troops across the country in a matter of hours, our country is pretty well secured against outsiders.

The second reason is that, when the original amendment was drafted, firearms were still rather primitive. The standard issue weapon for the British Army at the time was the Brown Bess Musket.

Six feet long, .75 caliber. Kinda scary.

The Brown Bess was a single shot weapon with a smooth bore. This meant that the shot was not very accurate and took a full minute to reload. Which is fine if that's all you have.

But as technology and manufacturing improved, firearms began to improve as well. We soon went from single-shot weapons to revolvers, repeating rifles, semi-automatics, and eventually full-auto firearms.

Like this .50 caliber M2 Browning machine gun. Gosh, it's pretty.

With that kind of firepower available, people started to ask, "Why would a private citizen need anything like that? Why do private citizens need guns at all?" And so, the arguments began, and the Second Amendment is in jeopardy.

But here's the thing that scares me: the Second Amendment doesn't say anything about 'firearms.'

Here, read it again:

Does the word 'firearms' appear anywhere in this amendment? No. All it talks about is '...the right to keep and bear arms...'

Now let me expand on why it terrifies me:

Imagine for a moment, that sometime in the near future, the Second Amendment is repealed, and private citizens are forced to surrender their guns.

Now imagine that some smart-ass politician realizes that the wording of the Second Amendment doesn't specify firearms. What's to stop him from deciding that it is illegal to own any sort of weapon?

Now citizens are being forced to surrender pocket knives, kitchen knives, baseball bats, golf clubs, tennis rackets, hatchets, axes, hand saws, chainsaws, crowbars, pry bars, household chemicals, paperweights and anything else that could cause harm to another human being.

She's got heavy books! Get her!

Go ahead and call me paranoid if you want to, but this sort of thought process has happened all over the world many times before.

Like this...

Or this...

It's just one step on the way to tyranny. And that, dear readers, is why the idea of repealing the Second Amendment terrifies me.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled light-hearted programming.

The resemblance is uncanny...

Trick or Treat!

Good evening, kiddies...

It is that time of year again. The black cats are hissing, the goblins are gobbling, and the spirits of the dead are roaming the earth once more.

As well as pint-sized versions of the Avengers, apparently...

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. When I was a kid, it was because I got to play around with pumpkins, experiment with awesome costumes and go wandering around the neighborhood and collecting free candy!

CANDY!

Nowadays, though, my love of the holiday has diminished a little bit. Not because I can't dress up anymore, oh, no, I still do that. But people get just a little bit freaked out if you go wandering the neighborhood trick-or-treating when you're older than about 12, so...

But I think the biggest draw of this holiday is that it is, in essence, an anti-holiday. Most other holidays, such as Thanksgiving, Easter, Christmas and Valentine's Day, are all about bringing people together, joining in friendship and family, and basking in the warm fuzzies of the season.

Halloween, on the other hand, is about getting the pants scared off of you. And I'm not talking about the 'jump-out-of-a-closet-and-shout-BOO' type of scared, either. When I say scare, I'm talking about the deep, dark chill that runs through your very bones...the claws that reach into the deepest recesses of your mind and awaken your most primal fears...I'm talking raw, unadulterated terror.

The 'cover-your-head-with-a-pillow-while-clutching-your-blankie'
kind of terror.

Truth be told, it is rather difficult in this age to evoke such feelings. Horror writers and movie makers are mainly focused on shock factor, because it is so easy to evoke a reaction in the audience. It takes a true master of the craft to spark real fear.

Now, I am in no way a master of the craft. But I do like to consider myself a student of it. I present to you now, a simple philosophical question on fear. And one that chills me to the bone...

What are we afraid of?

Many classic horror icons and other disturbing creatures share common characteristics. Pale skin, dark, sunken eyes, elongated faces, sharp teeth, and the like. These images inspire horror and revulsion in many, and with good reason. The characteristics shared by these faces are imprinted in the human mind.

Many things frighten humans instinctively. The fear is natural, and does not need to be reinforced in order to terrify. The fears are species-wide, stemming from dark times in the past when lightning could mean the burning of your tree home, predators could be hiding in the dark, heights could make poor footing lethal, and a spider or snake bite could mean certain death.

The question you have to ask yourself is this:

What happened, deep in the hidden eras before history began, that could affect the entire human race so evenly as to give the entire species a deep, instinctual, and lasting fear of pale beings with dark, sunken eyes, razor sharp teeth, and elongated faces?

Sleep tight, boys and girls...

Rrraarrgghh! (Panda Roar)

Life sucks, boys and girls. It makes me so incredibly angry, and hurt, and sad, all at the same time. If it's not my love life, then it's work, or my landlord, or my roommate, or my nonexistent social life, or any one of a hundred other things. I'm so tired of it all. It's days like this that make me want to jump off the Water Street Bridge.

But then I realize that it's too short a fall, and I'd probably just wind up
breaking my leg or something, which would make life suck even more.

I thought that moving would have alleviated some of my stress. Instead, it's increased it tenfold. I've been late on rent nearly every month since I've been out here, because I don't make enough at my job to cover it. (Wisconsin has that fucking stupid law about 'federal minimum wage not applying to people that earn tips' thing. Incidentally, I didn't think it was possible to take home a paycheck for $0.00, but that's another story) Finding a second job is just as difficult (if not more difficult) than finding my first, which is really pissing me off, since it's about the time of year where people start hiring for seasonal help. They'll hire any slack-jawed idiot that can spell his name correctly on the application, but they won't hire me...

Seriously? He has more appeal than I do? Seriously?

My roommate, the only person in this state that I would call my friend, is driving me out of my mind. When she's around, that is. Most of the time, I'm stuck trying to entertain myself. "But wait," I hear you asking your computer screen, "why don't you just go out and do something, make some new friends?" To which I answer, "See my above paragraph about not having money." Going out and doing something in this town (being a college town after all) mainly involves going to the bars or a frat party and getting wasted off your ass anyway.

Not really my idea of fun...

I suppose a big part of why I'm feeling this way is that there's been a couple of things that hit me pretty hard these past few weeks. A lot harder than I was expecting...

I feel terrible, for a whole host of reasons. I'm not sure if putting things to screen have helped, either; it just seemed to have churned things up. I guess it's therapeutic to get it all out, but I still feel like shit. I'll probably survive, but right now it doesn't feel like it.

This post is a little depressing, I suppose. Sorry. Here, I'll leave you with something fun:

A fish tank. Get it? *sigh* They can't all be gems...

The Ashes of West Chester

Ahoy, boys and girls, Captain Panda here!

So, a little more than a year ago, I got this idea for a movie. I'm not entirely certain what it was that sparked the idea in the first place, but I wanted to make a movie about a Zorro or Robin Hood-type character, but make the character female instead.

And starring my friend Tree as the main character. But that's another post...

Well, I am happy to report that, after a little over a year, I have finally finished the plot summary!

Well, that's not very nice...

Now, hold on there, Jethro. Before you go making fun of me for taking a year to write a summary, lemme tell you how I got here:

When I originally started writing this movie (which I've titled 'The Ashes of West Chester') my original idea was to just write a straightforward adventure movie. As I sat down to write it, however, it became pretty clear that that particular plan wasn't going to work. The story wasn't going anywhere, the adventure movie idea has been done to death, and I couldn't figure out how to fix it.

So, I shelved the project for a while, all the while doing research and trying to figure out how to spin the project in a new and interesting direction. I delved deeper into the characters and their relationships. As I did that, something very interesting started to emerge.

No, Cthulhu, I said 'emerge,' not 'awaken.' Silly elder god...

What came from this exercise was something much more than a simple adventure story. It became something driven by relationships as opposed to story, and became something much darker than what I had originally planned. I sat down and hammered out a basic story, and what I got was the full outline of 'The Ashes of West Chester.'

Now that I've finished the summary, I get to start actually writing the darn thing. Which means I get to put away the computer, and pull out...

Cue angelic chorus.

This beautiful machine is a 1963 Olivetti Underwood Lettera 33 manual typewriter originally owned by my dad.

I like to call this the 'legacy plate.'

The really cool thing about this (I just found this out not long ago) is that the Lettera 33 is the exact same model of typewriter that Francis Ford Coppola used to write the screenplay for 'The Godfather.'

Looks like my typewriter has a lot to live up to. We'll see what comes of it...

Until next time, boys and girls!

Yeah, it's pretty much like that...

Eats, Shoots, and Leaves.

Courtesy of the webcomic xkcd. If you haven't read it, go do that. But not right now...read my blog first.

Ahoy, Citizens! It is I, Captain Panda, the world's worst superhero, defender of truth, justice and all things anachronistic, here to regale you with stories of my life!

Ahem...sorry about that, I tend to wax dramatic from time to time. I meant to say 'Hello there, and welcome to my new blog!' Unlike that other blog that I do (this one here,) this blog (Eats Shoots and Leaves) is more of a traditional blog, all about me and what goes on in that crazy, mixed-up land that I call my mind.

So...where to begin...

Concerning Hobbits...

Wait...no...damn...sorry, I did it again. Hang on, I'll get it...


Concerning Myself:

My name is Brad (Codename: Panda). I am, at the moment, 26 years old. I come originally from Minnesota, but am living in Wisconsin for now. (More on that later.) In the real world, I work for Red Lobster and am studying Digital Film & Video Production.

For two months out of the year, I spend my weekends at the Minnesota Renaissance Festival, doing silly things in costume and making magic happen. I have been out there for four years now, and in that time it has become much more than a job, or a hobby. It has become my home. I have met some of my closest friends out there, and have even met a couple of potential mates out there as well (note the word potential...maybe I'll get to that later). I live for this place more than anything else in my life, because it is the one place that I have felt the most loved and the most welcomed.

Yes, even when I'm doing stupid things like angering the King...

It's also where I got the nickname 'Captain Panda.' But you don't want to hear that story...

When I'm not working, and when I'm not out at the Fest, I like to sing, act, and write short stories and screenplays (obviously, if I'm studying film) I also enjoy general nerdery, reading, building models and other craft stuffs. Oh, and cooking. I love cooking.

Why, yes, that is a cookbook signed by Alton Brown, my favorite TV chef,
who I met at the Mall of America where he was signing copies of
'Feasting on Asphalt: the River Run.' How nice of you to notice.

So, that's the basics of me. Now, on to other things.

On living in Wisconsin:

About a year ago, I was living in my parents' house in Minnesota. We decided, through mutual fed-up-ness, that I needed to move out. Well, as much as I would have loved to find a one-bedroom in the Twin Cities, my financial situation pretty much made that impossible.

As luck would have it at the time, I knew someone that was going to school in Wisconsin, and was willing to take me in on a two-bedroom apartment once her lease was up. (Yes, she's a she, and no, it's not like that.) So, come June 1, I gathered up all my stuff, loaded it in a truck and hauled myself out to Wisconsin.

It's the alcoholic capital of the United States, I swear...

For the first few months there, it was all right. It was kinda nice to get away from my old life in MN and have a minor reset for a while.

Then came MN Ren Fest in August. No matter where I am or what I'm doing, for seven weekends out of the year, I'm going to be in Shakopee, MN for the Renaissance Festival. For a while, I was okay. I was wanting to hang out with people and do things outside of Fest, but I couldn't because I lived in Wisconsin. Annoying, but not really a big deal. But then came the last weekend, and the week afterwards. Something happened. (As I said, maybe I'll get to that more specifically later) And it made me hate living here.

Okay, maybe hate is the wrong word. In and of itself, Wisconsin is not a bad place to live. But my life is in Minnesota, and this incident slapped me in the face with that fact. At the moment, I feel like I'm in exile, away from my life, my friends and my loves. I will be coming back home to Minnesota in May, but that's seven months from now. I don't know how well I'll survive until then...

I'll get by with a little help from...

My Friends:

I stole this from one of my friend's blogs. Sorry, Winter.

My friends are awesome. I don't tell them that as much as I probably should, and I don't get to see most of them nearly as much as I want to, but they're awesome.

When I was in school, I didn't have much in the way of friends. Sure, there were people that I hung out with during the day and at after-school activities, but never really anyone that I spent time with outside of that. Now that I've grown up, I've been lucky enough to find true friends. I still don't have many of them, but I care for the ones I have more than anything else in the world, and will do anything for them. I am quick to forgive those that seek it, and I do not hold grudges. 

Whether they know it or not, my friends are what support me through times that are tough, and I am thankful for them. Which leads me to...

Love, or something like it:

My love life is...well, it's pretty much nonexistent. I've only ever had two actual relationships in my life, and neither one lasted more than six months.

I thought I had something, though. At the end of this year's Festival season, I thought I was going to be involved with a beautiful girl, who seemed to be into me.

Well, turns out I was wrong. Not about her being into me, but about being involved with her. Due to extraneous circumstances (i.e., me living in fucking Wisconsin) we're not together. Don't get me wrong: we're still friends, we still talk, it wasn't like our relationship collapsed. We're just not a couple.

Story of my life, really; 'I like you, but...' There's always a 'but...'

This is what sparked the whole 'I hate it here' thing. Outside of the fact that if I were living back in MN I *might* have been with her, even if there were some other reason for not being together, I would have been able to go hang out with some of my friends, have some fun, and distract myself from my bruised heart. Since I live in bum fuck nowhere, and have no friends out here outside my roommate, who is usually far too busy to hang out, I was left with my own mind for company, which was entirely unhelpful and unhealthy.

I'm starting to feel like I'm in exile out here; like my life is continuing without me. I can't wait to go home.

In the end...

That's it for the first post. You know me a little better now, I hope. I'd like to leave you with something though, before I go. Until next time, boys and girls...