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In 1985, one of the best things I had ever read was Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card.

In 2008, one of the worst things I’ve ever read is by this same man.

No, this isn’t a book review.

Ironically, I had a run-in with an ignorant zealot yesterday in a grocery store parking lot not far from my house, and I was all prepared to write about it during this week’s blog… but now that will have to wait. Today a couple articles by bestselling author Orson Scott Card were forwarded to me, and I have to respond.

What’s the big deal? Oh, nothing… just that Card is advocating a violent overthrow of the American government if it supports gay marriage.

He writes: “Regardless of law, marriage has only one definition, and any government that attempts to change it is my mortal enemy. I will act to destroy that government and bring it down, so it can be replaced with a government that will respect and support marriage, and help me raise my children in a society where they will expect to marry in their turn. Only when the marriage of heterosexuals has the support of the whole society can we have our best hope of raising each new generation to aspire to continue our civilization….”

I have long admired Orson the novelist, and so it is with great difficulty that I type this. But even smart people can be wrong (Ptolemy thought the sun went around the Earth) and in this instance Orson is very, very wrong. Inexcusably wrong. It’s actually worse than that; his views are the corrosive slime on the future of our civilization.

This isn’t the first time I’ve disagreed with Mr. Card; for the life of me, I can’t see how he can consider Terminator 3 a good film. But we have our agreements also; we both feel Citizen Kane is overrated. And yes, we even agree that revolution in America can be a good thing.

I am disgusted with the tumor-like growth of government in America… and we can thank both Democrats and Republicans for that. I am appalled by the way our elected officials use our Constitution as toilet paper, at the fear-mongering and the contempt they show for their citizenry. Personally, I do foresee a balkanization of the U.S. in the future; too many people care only about their religion or ideologies at the expense of the Constitution’s Enlightenment ideals of reason, humanism, and liberty for us to stay united.

The National ID card? Yes, that’s a reason to fight a revolution because it rapes the Bill of Rights.

But Card wants to play a bloody real-time game of Risk over the issue of gay marriage:

First, there’s this:

“In the first place, no law in any state in the United States now or ever has forbidden homosexuals to marry… Any homosexual man who can persuade a woman to take him as her husband can avail himself of all the rights of husbandhood under the law… Ditto with lesbian women… To get those civil rights, all homosexuals have to do is find someone of the opposite sex willing to join them in marriage.”

Ah. Nothing like an ugly little game of semantics, Mr Card.

And then there’s this astonishing diatribe:

“However emotionally bonded a pair of homosexual lovers may feel themselves to be, what they are doing is not marriage… they are not turning their relationship into what my wife and I have created, because no court has the power to change what their relationship actually is… They steal from me what I treasure most, and gain for themselves nothing at all. They won’t be married. They’ll just be playing dress-up in their parents’ clothes.”

There’s something almost sad – and definitely horrifying – in this passage. Why does Card feel so threatened?

Note he has been very careful not to say what others of his ilk do: That their bigotry finds its ultimate justification from the Bible, which condemns homosexuality. This of course is the same Bible that says the faithful are required to kill people who refuse to listen to priests (Deuteronomy), kill fortune-tellers and homosexuals (Leviticus) kill adulterers (Leviticus) wipe out an entire city if a single person in it worships a “false god” (Deuteronomy), kill people who work on the Sabbath (Exodus), kill your family and friends if their religious views differ from your own (Deuteronomy) and so the list goes, in a long crimson stretch of barbarism including death for blasphemers and women who aren’t virgins on their wedding nights.

This same pathology was at work with the shooting, by a rabid right-winger, at the Knoxville Unitarian Universalist Church last month, and yesterday’s attack on the Arkansas Democratic Headquarters.

But in the end, Card can’t really hide the fact. He writes: “In my church and many other churches, people still cling fiercely to civilized values and struggle to raise civilized children despite the barbarians who now rule us through the courts.”

“Pure democracy” is what Card is grasping at. Want to know what “pure democracy is?” A lynch mob.

That’s why we have a Constitutional Republic in America, one where our courts can make certain that Constitutional freedoms are made available to all… not just what a majority want. A majority once supported slavery, women’s subjugation, and racial inequality. It was less than fifty years ago that American courts had to step in to states like Mississippi and Alabama and protect racial minorities there. Even then, the Freedom Riders had to take a bus down South to bring the message home, and they were met by fire-bombings, tire-slashing, and brutal physical attacks. Some of the same people who participated in those attacks are still alive today. It is NOT ancient history.

Card writes: “Homosexual ‘marriage’ won’t accomplish what they hope. They will still be just as far outside the reproductive cycle of life. And they will have inflicted real damage on those of us who are inside it… they will make it harder for us to raise children with any confidence that they, in turn, will take their place in the reproductive cycle.”

This is rich. Most anti-gay crusaders are content to say that God will attack America if gay marriage is allowed. Card does it one better: Allowing gay adults the right to marriage will cause our species to go extinct.

I’m a straight, white American citizen, and at this point in my life I don’t want any children. So am I also pushing the human species down the road of zoo pandas everywhere, Mr. Card?

His statements are vile, and not because it’s PC to say so. I’m a proudly nonpartisan freethinker and I reject “political correctness” with every fiber of my being. But there is simply no way to rationally justify telling consenting adults who happen to be homosexual that they can’t marry each other. The Far Right’s obsession with the subject is both medieval and intellectually dishonest with their rabid falsities (how affording consenting gay adults the right of marriage will somehow lead to bestiality.)

Readings Card’s words, what I feel is disgust. Not just at seeing a talented writer fall to such primitive depths, but when I think about the disclaimer that will go along with any future generation which has the pleasure reading Ender’s Game or Ender’s Shadow. “What great books!” Sigh. “Too bad the writer became such a Nazi.”

A lot of people have been conditioned to believe that gay marriage means the fall of civilization. Think of how surprised people were to realize that, in places where it has been allowed (and by largely conservative justices, by the way) , the sky didn’t fall. Life went on, much as it had, with the added plus of freedom being expanded for a long-persecuted minority.

So yes, Mr. Card certainly has the freedom of speech. He can start his revolution if he wants to advance his own backwards ideology. But I’m not a pacifist. If Card takes up arms against a progressive regime (i.e. the opposite of what we have now), I’ll be on the other side of the battlefield, with my Constitutionally protected right to bear arms, to fight against him.

And since unlike many others, I CAN separate the man from his work, I would be perfectly willing to be his humble Speaker for the Dead when it’s all over.

Random Fact:

Just this week, scientists at Warwick Reading University announced they have taken 300,000 neurons from a rat’s brain, placed it into a robotic body, and use it to control the robot’s wheels while it navigates by sonar. That’s right, rat-cyborgs have arrived.

Quote of the Day:

“A prince must know how to use both natures, and that the one without the other is not durable.”

– Niccolo Machiavelli

So it’s official – The Copperfield Review has just published two of my works. You can study a magazine, peruse what they like to publish, and deliberate over this field intelligence, but in the end you can never be certain what will strike an editor’s fancy as she sits down to work, sips her morning coffee, and begins making decisions. I had sent both a fiction and a nonfiction work – and was delighted to see both published.

The nonfiction piece is a how-to on writing historical fiction, entitled “Humanity and the Historical.” It encapsulates both my writing philosophy and initial inspirations. You can read it here if you like.

The fiction piece takes place in the pre-samurai period of Japan, and is entitled “Motherhood.” It’s actually an abbreviated episode from my novel about ancient China; I just distilled one particular section and transformed it into a short story. The main character is a quasi-historical character from Japan’s legendary past. It’s here for your viewing.

I’m making progress with both my new screenplays, too. One I’m writing with one of my best friends, Damian Dydyn; once a week, over pizza and ice-tea, we get together for some marathon screenwriting hours. The rest of the week, I’m working on my newest novel. Banish any thought that writing is a gentle, peaceful process. As I bang on the keys or pace my room like a caged tiger, I feel like a gladiator.

And my chest is a cage for a dragon/

And my heart is a wrath born of fear/

And my fear is the fear of the living/

Who knows that all things disappear.

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Last night I decided to re-watch The Seven Samurai, directed by the incomparable Akira Kurosawa. The film is black-and-white, made in 1954, but possesses that unique quality of true cinematic masterpieces: It hasn’t aged. Kurosawa’s direction here is cool and confident, and the story of a poor village hiring seven dubious down-on-their-luck protectors against a horde of ruthless bandits is simple and engaging.

All around, the acting is perfectly credible, with the standout being Takashi Shimura. He’s just a powerhouse actor. The film’s pacing and wit mesmerized the viewer, and there are scenes which burn themselves onto the mind – no spoilers here, but watch for the scene with the wife, and of course the stirring realism of the battle sequences. Amazing. Rent it or own it. You won’t be disappointed.

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Today is already a muggy day, and the air-conditioner in this room is broken. The humidity is so strong that I expect rain-clouds to materialize in front of my eyes any second, swirl like a slow cyclone against the ceiling, and unleash a downpour. But a quick word on the month of August before I swim for the cooler rooms of the house:

Next Tuesday is the when William Blake died (“Tyger! Tyger! Burning Bright!”) And Wednesday saw the passing of the incredible H. G. Wells, who with just four books introduced four completely original concepts which have since spawned countless imitators: alien invasion, invisible men, genetic experimentation, and time travel.

But August is also the month when Cyrus the Great died, and there are some great stories associated with him.

King Croesus was the filthy rich ruler of Ionia. The Donald Trump of his day, only more arrogant. In fact, even now the expression “rich as Croesus” is used to refer to fabulous wealth.

Croesus hit upon the idea of attacking his Persian neighbors, which at that time were ruled by Cyrus the Great. Cyrus was an extremely noble leader, who had begun life as a cup-bearer to the previous king, but who rose to kingship and came as close to being an enlightened philosopher-king as those years could expect. (And in some ways, way closer than our years.)

Before launching his invasion, Croesus decided to consult the fabled Oracle of Delphi. “Should I attack Persia?” he asked. The oracle responded with her famous ambiguity: “If you invade Persia, you will destroy a great empire.”

Pleased with his own interpretation of this omen, Croesus proceeds with a unilateral invasion. The empire he ended up destroying was his own.

Now, years before this miscalculation, Croesus had been throwing a party at which celebrity statesman Solon was in attendance. Resplendent in his fine robes, Croesus had taken Solon on a tour of the kingdom treasury and declared, “I am the happiest man in the world!” Solon, hearing this, politely countered that life was fickle and that fortune could be turned to misery in an instant.

Croesus was furious by this damper on his good mood, and Solon wisely excused himself and headed for the exit. On the way there, he ran into Aesop (the brilliant fable-teller himself) and the two had a terrific exchange. It seems that Aesop had been eavesdropping on Solon’s conversation with the king, and so he said, “Solon, either we must not come to mighty men at all, or we must try to please them.” But Solon disagreed, remarking that, “Either we must not come to mighty men at all, or we must tell them the truth.” It must have been the only time that Aesop was ever out-duelled!

To be a fly on the wall in that instant! Aesop and Solon, two of the most brilliant wisemen of all time, having a banter!

Fast-forward to Croesus’ ill-fated invasion of Persia. His armies are defeated, and Croesus soon finds himself being led up to an execution pyre. As the flames begin to creep towards the bound king, Croesus lets out a piteous cry. “Solon!” he says, acknowledging the Greek’s sage advice.

Cyrus, who has been watching the execution’s proceedings, hears this. He has no idea who Solon is, but he is intrigued enough to order the flames doused and Croesus brought before him. “What is this word that you shout at the moment of death?” Cyrus asks. And Croesus relates the party episode. Listening carefully, Cyrus perceives the wisdom in Solon’s words, and seeing that his vanquished foe is really no different than himself, he spares him.

This is the kind of stuff that history classes don’t talk about. A powerful humanistic tale featuring a cast of all-stars.

Gotta have breakfast now. Cold pizza awaits.

Random Fact:
There are more than 100 billion neurons and 100 trillion synapses in the average human brain. It is the most advanced device in the known universe. And it’s a device that can be shaped by what we do and what we learn.

Quote of the Day:
“It is certain that he was a lover of knowledge, for when he was old he would say that each day he grew older and learned something new.”
- Plutarch, writing about Solon.

There were thunderstorms all this past week, which made me happy. Grey rainy days have always appealed to me more than bright blue ones. Colors seem richer, contrasted with the dark-quilted sky. I might be a scientific rationalist, so I understand the physics of a thunderstorm, but this doesn’t cheapen the magic of it. In fact, it’s a false dichotomy when people say you have to choose between being science-minded and imaginative. It’s worse than a false dichotomy… It’s mental cowardice.  The same way people are beaten into thinking that there are only two political parties in America. Those people are cult members, and there’s a lot of them about.

Sunday saw so much rain and thunder that I decided to reread one of the “Big Three” in Horror Classics. I had returned from a walk (yes, in the rain) and was thinking about Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. She was just seventeen when she stayed at Lake Geneva with Lord Byron and their circle of friends. They too had a rainy week, with thunder, and amused each other by telling ghost stories. Shelley couldn’t think of anything, until later one night when she had a nightmare. In her own words regarding that dream: “I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion…”

Frankenstein is a solid read. Perhaps a slow starter, but there’s a mesmerizing richness to the story’s inherent mythos. However, I was intrigued to discover that Mary was wrong about her own story.

She considered it a morality tale – the subtitle is, after all, The Modern Prometheus. The implication is that Prometheus was wrong to steal fire from the gods; that the human race should have stayed cold and miserable in a world of darkness while high above them a self-serving petulant circle of divine brats continued to hoard the knowledge of fire. When Victor Frankenstein’s sewn-together-monstrosity begins to to stir with life, Victor takes one look at it and is repulsed by what he’s made. He flips out. He begins a long inner monologue of how the thing is evil because it looks ugly.

But here’s the contradiction. The Monster was NOT born evil. In fact, despite being shunned by his creator and upon escaping from the laboratory, it embarks on a virtuous life of helping others and trying to fit in with society. Only after discovering that everyone else in the world is obsessed with hunting it, hurting it, and destroying it does it turn aggressive.

Victor judges his creation based on its aesthetic appearance. That’s like taking one look at early experiments in flight and declaring, “Gosh, what an ugly bunch of contraptions we’ve made. There’s nothing of a bird’s elegance in this! This’ll never work! Scrap it all!”

Man’s inhumanity brought down the Monster’s vengeance. It wasn’t the act of tampering with Promethean fire. We tamper with such fire every time we give a near-sighted child a pair of glasses, each time we invent medicines or devices which help the blind see. Our agriculture, explorations, engineering, and inventiveness is all done in Prometheus’ footsteps. When winters threaten to freeze our blood, we use fire to keep us warm, cook our meats, and drive away the prowling predators. That same fire is then used to smelt ores and produce tools, to light our lighthouses, and now hums in our computers. It’s cowardice to say we shouldn’t be “messing with things.” If we didn’t, we’d still be crawling through the mud and dying from the slightest infections. The fire can be good.

Anyway, in relation to the two other “Big Horror” classics, I’d rank Frankenstein as second. Bram Stoker’s Dracula is still a triumph of imagery and fear. To this day I have yet to see a film that accurately renders this story’s nightmarish power. Some have come close (Francis Ford Coppola’s version, and the exceptional silent-film Nosferatu) but no cigar.

In last place I’d put Robert Louis Stevenson’s Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Before I explain, consider the background of how he wrote it.  He has a nightmare one night, filled with such ghastly images that his wife has to wake him because he’s screaming in his sleep. Feverish and inspired, he immediately sets about writing a novel based on the dream. When he’s done, he shows it to his wife… and she is horrified. It’s TOO ghastly, she accuses. Her and Robert get into a ferocious argument over it. It ends with him leaving the room, but a little while later he returns, brandishing the manuscript, and says, “You’re right dear!” And then he throws it into the fire! (The fire can be bad.)

Ugh! Robert! What the hell?!?

After this willful destruction, he sets about rewriting the tale as a cleaner, almost antiseptic morality tale. Don’t get me wrong — the concept is still great, and it’s a good read. But I would really have loved to see the original version, before it was watered down by Victorian sensibilities and hypocrisies. The Victorian world is amusing to me anyway, with its finely-dressed gentleman checking their fancy pocket-watches, enjoying the brandy and cigars of high society just moments before they sneak off to Whitechapel district…

The point with Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is not that we have to see the gory details of Hyde’s nocturnal cruelties. Not really. You don’t have to see Janet Leigh getting gutted in the shower in Psycho, but it would be an injustice if all the action always happened off-stage. I just really wish Robert’s earlier version was available. Sort of a Jekyll and Hyde: The Author’s Cut!

Anyway, there you have it. Personally, I consider The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde to be superior to Stevenson’s story anyway. Visceral, shocking, fun, and frightening. Wilde is in a class by himself; I don’t think I’ve encountered a more quotable writer aside from Shakespeare. And the character of Lord Henry is dynamite. He makes that novel.

The week was otherwise without munch incident, with one striking exception. Twelve hours ago I received some fantastic news. A couple months ago I sent some of my writing out to The Copperfield Review, a popular literary journal which specializes in historical fiction.

While most of the publishing world remains utterly in the dark about how to market historical novels (despite them ruling the bestseller lists and dominating Hollywood) The Copperfield Review has dived right in and enjoys a solid readership. They informed me that they’ll be publishing two of my works for their August edition! I’ll have more on that in a couple weeks!

Random Fact:

A tortoise named Tu’i Malila was given as a gift to the Tongan royal family by famed explorer Captain Cook in 1777. That same Tu’i Malila died… in 1965.

Quote of the Day:

“I will find a way, or I will make one.”

- Hannibal of Carthage

So, The Dark Knight turned out to be an excellent, if somewhat overlong, film. I saw it this past weekend, and for those who have yet to: believe all the hype about Heath Ledger; I am instantly suspicious when postmortem accolades start pouring in, but in this case it’s true. Ledger serves up a haunting, edgy, sadistic villain whose spirit is as decayed as his makeup. Every nuance, every facial tic, each creepy movement is genuine. He’s like a man who has swallowed a live wire, and enjoys the sensation of being electrocuted so much he wants to share it. It wouldn’t be a sympathy nod if Ledger was indeed nominated for an Oscar. He has given the cinematic world a rare creation.

There’s no question that Chris Nolan will do a third film. I found myself thinking about what might characterize that future installment. I think it’s time for a female villain to mix things up. Catwoman has been done and done, so my choice is Harley Quin. She could offer a nifty tribute to The Joker; since his character is locked away in an asylum (and since we’re not going to recast that role) his presence can be utilized in the next film, and continue the themes of chaos versus order. Harley, after all, was inspired to become villainous by her twisted admiration for him. It would work.

And there is also considerable material out there on Raz Algoul’s daughter. I’d build Film Three around both of them. They have the virtue of never having appeared in a Batman film yet. Batman screenwriter David Goyer has even stated that he would like to make use of villains that have yet to be portrayed.

Oh, as if there was any doubt about the actress for the role of Harley:

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I’m currently writing a new screenplay. While everyone is focused on superheroes, I’m crafting a pulp adventure story… one that draws its inspiration from the two-fisted, square-jawed heroes and dastardly villains. 1920s milieu.

I’m the author of six screenplays presently; two historical epics (one which snagged the Honorable Mention Award in the Writer’s Digest National Competition), one dark comedy, one dark fantasy, an extremely unique horror film based on the work of one of my all-time favorite writers, and my Dream Project science-fiction piece (think Bourne Ultimatum meets Blade Runner.)

So I’m working on Number Seven. Everyone’s talking about superheroes. But they came from the original pulp heroes, swashbuckling pseudo-myths like The Shadow, Doc Savage, Solomon Kane, and of course… Flash Gordon.

I miss those days. I easily would have been part of the Weird Tales writing circle, sharing stories and writing for available space in such publications as Thrilling Adventure Tales! That’s probably one of the many reasons why Raiders of the Lost Ark has always topped my favorite films (and don’t forget, Raiders was nominated for Best Picture when it was released.) Art is at least part escapism. And escapism doesn’t have to be empty; Robinson Crusoe isn’t “just an adventure story,” any more than The Count of Monte Cristo is “just a jailbreak.”

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Two other notes from this week:

My new article, “Sun Tzu Goes to Washington” came out last week. Written after rereading the famous Chinese tactician’s book, I was struck by how 2,400-year-old strategic advice is as relevant today as it was in his era. I decided to imagine what would happen if he ever dropped in on D.C.

This past weekend, my friends and I got together for our biyearly poetry event in some quiet Connecticut woods. Libations and verse, creative minds connecting, and reminding ourselves of the joy of being artists. It’s not like we choose to be. It chooses us. Unfortunately, there isn’t a viable career any more in poetry. Nonetheless, I have decided to send out a fleet of my poems to various magazines to see if anyone wants to publish them.  This weekend, I launch about forty poems to different places. Armies, go forth! 

And finally, this week celebrates Alexander the Great’s birthday. Depending on which historical source you consult, it was either July 20 or July 26. So I raise a Hellenic toast to you, Alex.

Random Fact:

There are 75,000 miles of blood vessel networks in your body.

Quote of the Day:

“By never putting anything off until tomorrow.” -Alexander the Great, on how he managed to achieve victory.

Today the new Batman film opens, and I’m excited about it. I generally hate sequels. They have a habit of screwing up everything the better original did right. But The Dark Knight looks like an exception to the rule.

Excellence is not restricted by genre. As long as a film has a strong story, capable actors, and makes us believe its reality, it doesn’t matter what the initial concept is. A cop thriller, a giant ape movie, a futuristic detective drama… excellence can raise a film to the top of its genre, and enter it into the ranks of art. There’s even been a great film about giant ants, of all things; check out 1954’s Them!

I think its interesting how superhero/action films bring back the old myths, though. Timeless concepts are given a new playground. Look at James Bond and Indiana Jones. They belong right there against the rich tapestry of global mythologies, pursuing villainous rogues, traveling to exotic locales, and narrowly escaping certain death. And neither Batman nor Bond are the first heroes who fancy gadgets; Thor had his magical hammer Mjolner, and various Greek heroes were given special swords, invisible cloaks, and winged horses in the absence of Batmobiles or Aston Martins.

Batman Begins was a well-crafted experience. Tight script, good arc. With its veneer of realism, it edges the myth closer to our world… or at least to a nearby borderworld. My argument with the earlier Batman films was that they LOOKED like set pieces. I was always cognizant that I was watching a movie; Tim Burton may be given credit for injecting grimmer colors into the mix, but otherwise his installments have not aged well.

But speaking of movies…

My brother called this week to let me know that the trailer for the documentary he’s in was just released.

My brother is the actor David Michaels. He approaches his craft with the right combination of art, heart, and science. And he works incredibly hard in pursuing his big break. Believe me, he deserves it. He’s headlined at some of the best theaters in the state, in such shows as Blood Brothers, Bat Boy, The Zoo Story, Grease, Guys and Dolls, and too many others to type without my fingers dropping off. I’m very proud of him

Well, he just finished acting in a Wolf Gang Pictures documentary called The Devil Among Us: America’s First Witch Hunt. Where did these witch-hunts happen? If you guessed Salem, you’re wrong. Connecticut is the none-too-proud owner of that ugly record. It wasn’t just pilgrims we imported from Europe… it was the wickedness of theocracy.

Check out this short snippet from the film.

Random Fact:

The average human lifespan in developed countries is about 78 years. Bristlecone pines reach ages of more than 5,000.

Quote of the Day:

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts.” Mark Twain

A moment of silence for the Thylacine.

On July 10th in 1936, the Tasmanian government passed legislation protecting one of its more unique animals… a creature that had died off in the rest of the world. This was the Tasmanian marsupial wolf.

But they were a bit late… since by the time they got around to protecting the beastie, THERE WAS ONLY ONE LEFT. Just two months after the protective legislation passed, the final representative of marsupial wolves died in captivity. Seems that a careless zookeeper locked him out of his shelter, so he was exposed to extreme temperatures (hot Tasmanian day, cold Tasmanian night) and perished into eternity.

There’s some footage available of the very last Thylacine, too.

Now, some people claim to have seen surviving specimens in the wilds of Tasmania. I suppose this isn’t completely impossible. In fact, the Tasmanian wolf interests me because it is one of the more likely cryptozoological animals. Unlike Bigfoot or the chupacabra, we know the creature once existed. And unlike the alleged dinosaurs in the Congo or giant ground sloths in the Amazon, we know it existed recently.

I think it would be extremely cool if there was a remnant population surviving somewhere in the dense wilderness. I’ll need more than some spotty eyewitness accounts to convince me, though.

Alive or not, this episode should make us more aware that things do go extinct. Speaking of…

A moment of silence for another highly endangered specimen:

That’s right. In one of the most shameless displays of cowardice I’ve ever seen, the US Congress decided to pass a bill to expand the government’s illegally-begun surveillance and wiretap system. Bush signed it into law today.

The surveillance system, which has largely evaded the normal checks and balances, accountabilities, and usual channels, was begun in violation of the U.S. Constitution. What we’re seeing today is an attempt at making it all legal. Sort of like if I’ve been robbing banks across the country, then get elected, then pass laws making it okay for me to rob banks.

According to the New York Times: “Debate over the surveillance law was the one area where Democrats had held firm in opposition. House Democrats went so far as to allow a temporary surveillance measure to expire in February, leading to a five-month impasse and prompting accusations from Mr. Bush that the nation’s defenses against another strike by Al Qaeda had been weakened. But in the end Mr. Bush won out, as administration officials helped forge a deal between Republican and Democratic leaders that included almost all the major elements the White House wanted.”

It’s funny, but Democrats were handed victories in the mid-term election because of voter disapproval over Republican abuse of power, heavy spending, and corruption. But now those same Democrats are simply empowering those same Republicans. Even Barrack Obama, a statesman I truly like, compromised his expressed opposition and voted in favor of this.

Oh, and on the same day, Karl Rove defied a subpoena to appear before Congress. Just flat-out didn’t show up. I wonder what would happen to us plebeians if we ever displayed this audacity?

I’m forced to toy with the idea of an all-out Plebeian Revolt. You know, where the people of this country (We the People) rise up, kick out the parasitic politicians who brazenly ignore our Constitution while living fat off our money and don’t even bother to read the legislation they vote on. Why exactly do we put up with these clowns? Isn’t the best way to get rid of ticks to grab them by the head, and pull?

Guess that’s why I’ve been a lifelong non-partisan. Agree with some things on the conservative side, some things on the liberal side, and many things in between, above, and beyond. That’s why I write for the Populist Party, because they make the shocking declaration that politicians should adhere to our founding principles:

From “Contract with America: The Bill of Rights” by Steve Osborn, a fellow Populist Party writer:

• Without the First Amendment, newspapers could only print the “party line” or be suppressed. Books and plays would be censored or banned. We might have to attend the State Authorized Religion, or be forbidden to attend any other form of worship, or any worship at all. We could even have a church telling us how to live, backed up with government force! We would have no right of public assembly or protest, nor could we petition the government for a redress of grievances.
• Without the Second Amendment, we would be a completely disarmed populace, at the mercy of government troops or security forces.
• Without the Third Amendment, the government could quarter troops in your home without your consent.
• Without the Fourth Amendment, the government’s security force or military could search your home at will, without a warrant, confiscate your papers and property, monitor your communications and phone conversations without your ever knowing about it.
• Without the Fifth Amendment, you could be picked up, your property confiscated, you could be held incommunicado for an indefinite time without legal counsel and could be forced to testify against yourself.
• Without the Sixth Amendment, your could be held for an indefinite period, without charge, and without being told why you’re being held. Your trial, if any, could be held in secret without your being able to confront your accusers or examining any evidence, nor would you have the right to legal counsel.
• Without the Seventh Amendment, in civil suits, you would not have the right of trial by jury.
• Without the Eighth Amendment, there would be no limit on the amount of bail set or fines imposed, and any cruel punishment could be meted out, even death by torture.
• Without the Ninth Amendment, any rights not spelled out would be forfeit to the government.
• Without the Tenth Amendment, the People of the United States would have no powers reserved to themselves, it would all lie with the State.

Call me old-fashioned. I enjoy the fact that the Constitution is the supreme law of our land. That it is a secular document founded on Greco-Roman principles of democracy. And that I’ve actually read the thing, cover to cover, so I know what the hell I’m talking about.

The Cato Institute offers handy pocket-sized editions. My recommndation is that every American should read it… at least before it’s designated EC-10. Get a copy here.

Random Fact:

July is named for Julius Caesar (whose birthday is July 13.) It used to be called Quintillus.

Quote of the Day:
It is sobering to reflect that one of the best ways to get yourself a reputation as a dangerous citizen these days is to go about repeating the very phrases which our founding fathers used in the struggle for independence. – Charles A. Beard

A muggy week in CT, but an exciting one… and not just because of the new Bond movie trailer. I received a phone call Monday from an acquisitions fellow at the McGraw-Hill publishing company. They are one of the bigger publishers of textbooks in the world. Back in 2004, The Humanist published an article I wrote on how civil liberties are being systematically reduced by the two-punch assault of government and corporate entities. From Walmart stitching RFID chips into their products, to the government pushing the National ID card and PATRIOT ACT onto us, some core freedoms are being stolen.

The article was well-received, and is still responsible for a good percentage of mail I get (both the good and bad.) It was even required reading for the National Debate on civil liberties conducted by H. W. Wilson.

So this guy from McGraw Hill wants to republish the article in an upcoming anthology. A little negotiation, and the deal was signed.

Even more exciting is that one of my articles was accepted for publication at Strange Horizons!

They are a cutting-edge, award-winning magazine of science-fiction and speculation. I’ve been trying to break in for a while now… so I’m absolutely delighted! My piece examined a what-if question in history. What if such-and-such had happened? How would history have unfolded differently? More on that later. The article is scheduled for a Fall 08 publication date.

My girlfriend and I are making our way through all of Alfred Hitchcock’s films. There is an immediacy in his directorial technique which is very engaging. While I agree that Psycho is probably his most accomplished work, I have always loved Vertigo. Also on my favorites list is North by Northwest, Saboteur, and The Birds. Rear Window is refreshing in the way it makes use of an extremely small set (though Hitchcock’s movie Lifeboat has the all-time Hollywood record… as well as the cleverest Hitchcock cameo ever!)

I understand that they are remaking The Birds, with Naomi Watts starring. I am not a fan of sequels or remakes as a general rule. Sequels and remakes usually screw up everything they are trying to recreate. Fact is, I can only think of six films which ever produced a sequel as-good-or-better than the original, and in the remake department the list is even shorter: Two. So we’ll see…

Ok, some random thoughts on July 3:

* Franz Kafka was born on July 3 in 1883. Seven years later on the same day, July 3 is again immortalized when Idaho becomes the 43rd state of the union and immediately cranks out my favorite source of Vitamin C — the potato.

* The potato, of course, was already immortalized by the Irish Potato Famine which ended in 1852, the same year that Uncle Tom’s Cabin was published by Harriet Beecher Stowe.

* Stowe died on July 1 in Hartford Connecticut, about a half hour from my house. Hartford was the location of one of the deadliest fires in U.S. History — on July 6, 1944 — in what is known as the Hartford Circus Fire. That same year, George Stephen Morrison graduated from Flight School in Pensacola, Florida. George is best known for having a son named Jim.

* And that son — Jim Morrison — died on July 3, 1971, eighty-eight years after Kafka was born on the same day.

Of course, 88 is the year that Roman poet Valerius Flaccus died. Flaccus wrote a Latin version of The Argonautica, which was the basis of the movie Jason and the Argonauts showcasing the special effects of one of my heroes, Ray Harryhausen. And how old will Ray be next June?

88.

Random Fact:

151 years before they were discovered, author Jonathan Swift wrote in Gulliver’s Travels that the planet Mars had two moons, and even gave their correct distances from the main planet. He was also extremely close on the exact rotational orbit of the moon Phobos. No one can explain how he figured this.

Quote of the day:

We have it in our power to begin the world over again.
- Thomas Paine

This past Saturday I was one of four writers who sat on a Science-Fiction panel at The Yale Bookstore, to discuss how the genre sees the future. More to the point, the event was called “Literary Futures,” and one of the main themes was addressing the concerns of Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. 

Censorship is a lifelong concern of mine — my novel Remembering Hypatia is about the destruction of the Great Library of Alexandria, after all. That was 1,600 years ago, and we like to think that something like that couldn’t happen today. After all, the collective knowledge of the world isn’t in one place any longer, right? I mean, it’s too bad the ancient Greeks hadn’t made contact with China, who at the time were using wood-block printing to achieve literary mass production. Better than copying everything by hand.

But today (and this is a point I made at Yale) we are becoming a digital world. Without hard-copies, censorship can now occur in an insidious and invisible way. Put it this way: Yesterday’s burnings required at least 451 degrees; tomorrow’s censorship will be done not with torches, but with a search-and-replace command.

Let’s call it the Digital Razor. It slices, slashes, and murders without shedding any blood. I’ve written about this very subject here. Movies are altered (E.T., Manhunter, Star Wars, to mention just a few) and by doing so, history itself is altered just a little. The sleight-of-hands behind the curtain…

It was a great discussion. The New Haven audience was terrific, and I had the chance to meet with fellow panelist Esther M. Friesner, a Nebula-award-winning writer (and editor of the anthology Chicks in Chainmail.)  She has a wonderfully sharp sense of humor, and we spoke for long after the event was over.

Later that afternoon, my girlfriend and I went strawberry picking — kind of funny, that an hour after I was talking about the far future I’m suddenly indulging in one of the oldest activities of our hunter-gatherer origins. I wonder if digital strawberries will tell our brains they are as good as the real thing.

Finally, this day ended with a thunderstorm — something that conjures my love of both the past and future. Years ago, I wrote a poem about how storms had inspired our dreams of Heaven and Hell, science, religion, and philosophy. Why not? Ancient people would have no idea what was going on in the sky. Rain falls… hence manna from heaven. And the superheated sonic booms in the clouds… what else could that be but a really angry god demanding blood.  Too bad so many people still believe that:

But I love thunderstorms. The seething dark clouds, electrified claws that split the night, the rain scrubbing everything down, the water vanishing into hidden chasms to make underground oceans we’ll never see.

Random Fact:

The deepest mankind has drilled toward the center of the Earth is 40,230 feet (roughly 7 miles) deep. No signs yet of an inner ocean… or James Mason and Pat Boone running from dinosaurs.

Quote of the Day:

A nation of sheep will beget a government of wolves.– Edward R. Murrow

I like to think of a writer’s struggle in military terms… the quest of a lone warrior against a mighty empire. Robert E. Howard would have enjoyed the metaphor.

This summer I decided to step up the attack: I have pitted my work against a medley of contests, magazines, publishers, and various competitions. There are two ways of looking at writing; you can do it quietly, on the backs of envelopes like Emily Dickinson, and not really care about connecting to the world beyond your four walls. Or you can actively campaign in public arenas, with the publishing world’s equivalent of Roman Emperors watching from above.

I’ve just been informed of two small achievements. My poem “A Library Died” just won 7th Place in the Writer’s Digest International Poetry Contest. I wrote it about my great-grandfather, Frank Cipriano, who passed away at the age of 96, and could still remember the streets and sites of his native Naples. At family gatherings, he could sit off by himself, and take mental tours of the Italy he knew.

The other news is that my Travel piece “Mountain of Ghosts” won Honorable Mention in the Best Travel Writing Competition. You can see the list here.   It is a recounting of my hike up Mount Fuji, throughout the course of a night, to reach the peak in time for sunrise. My friend Alice snapped a pic of the moment, which you can see on the About the Author Page here.  Japan is an amazingly beautiful and unique country. What’s most interesting is that in spite of all the hyper-industrialization there, it still manages to retain its mystical spots, wreathed in mist and time, for people to enjoy. Japan doesn’t exist in the present; depending on where you go, you’re either in yesterday or tomorrow.

Across thousands of miles, it is impossible not to write about it. But then again, for a writer, it is impossible not to write.

The Connecticut Muse asked me to comment about writing once. “You know you’re a writer,” I said, “If the poetry book on your kitchen table was a pile of napkins last week.”

You don’t choose to write. It chooses you, and you obey.

Random Fact:

Gunpowder was invented by accident by Chinese alchemists 1,100 years ago. They were trying to make an elixir of eternal life.

Quote of the Day: “We fear things in proportion to our ignorance of them.” Titus Livius

MY name is Brian Trent and welcome to my blog. If you’re really interested you can check out the ABOUT THE AUTHOR page, but suffice to say that I’m a writer for life. I write books and films and poetry and columns; short stories and investigative pieces; historical works, science-fiction tales, and mainstream contemporary stories. I have no interest in being pigeonholed into one category, branded with one set of expectations or allowances. I like a lot of things, and there’s certainly enough to explore in this life. I plan on updating every Thursday, so you’re certainly welcome to come back and hang out.

Why a writer? I can only say that for as long as I can remember, it was the only career path I ever desired. I used to keep legal-size yellow pads on which to scribble my first stories. Then I graduated to various typewriters, and now the computer. Maybe in the future we’ll be composing stories directly into everyone’s ocular implants… something like an Amazon Kindle in real-time.

As I type this, the summer of ’08 has just turned up the heat and humidity. So I’ll keep the whole welcome/intro stuff short. The modern world is all about lists, so here’s 12 Random Things About Me if you care.

1. I was an illustrator’s model for an outdoorsman survival guide in the late ‘90s.

2. I was born the same day that George Washington laid the cornerstone for the U.S. Capitol (September 18)

3. My employment history is cut in the same mold as Mark Twain. I have been a restaurant manager, hospital clerk, journalist, editor, cell phone technical support, bookseller, martial arts instructor, English teacher, film production assistant, painter, landscaper, library assistant, ESL tutor, and proposal writer. I figure steamboat pilot is inevitable.

4. I seem to be one of the few people who love broccoli rabe. If you do as well, we should start a club or something.

5. My favorite author of childhood was Ray Bradbury; years later, I was honored to have a story published in a literature anthology right alongside one of his.

6. I am a mead and sake drinker.

7. Paris is a great city, but it is also the first place I was ever in a fist-fight.

8. I was the keynote speaker for The Yale Bookstore’s Author Series during National Banned Books Week.

9. I am the author of Remembering Hypatia, which has won several awards; the screenplay also won Honorable Mention in the 2007 Writer’s Digest annual writing competition.

10. I am also the author of Never Grow Old: The Novel of Gilgamesh, which was nominated for Book of the Year by ForeWord magazine.

11. I write a regular column for Populist America, and have contributed to The Humanist magazine.

12. Dogs are fine, but my best animal friend was a ring-tailed lemur named Nikos. (He passed away two years ago from a respiratory infection.) Whenever we went hiking together, all children in the vicinity assumed I was filming an episode of Zoboomafoo.

And here’s two entirely random facts:

1. In as many years as there are people (6.5 billion as of this writing) the sun will become a red giant and destroy all life on Earth.

2. A giant squid’s eye is as big as your average dinner plate.

Quote of the Day: “Time is the stream I go a-fishin’ in.” Henry David Thoreau