The Sweet Hereafter

I hate my friend Greg.

Actually, that isn’t true. Greg is my industry version of an older brother (he really is older, and I do consider him a brother.) And like all brothers, you don’t really hate them; you hate the fact that you love them.

Why?

Greg pushes me. He makes me think about things that I would rather not think about. He asks me to explore things that I would rather not explore. He challenges me to do things that I wouldn’t naturally do. And at the end of the day, I owe him gratitude that I don’t want to give. All of which reminds me just how depraved I am.

To make matters worse, Greg knows all of this about me. He’ll throw a thematic grenade out there, watch me jump on it – knowing full well that I will, shoot me full of metaphorical morphine, help me recover, encourage me to get back in the fight, and then throw another grenade. He believes it makes me stronger. He may be right.

I would rather do anything else. In fact, I was so glad that I had some personal tragedies to write about last week because I didn’t have to come up with any on my own. Then I remembered a film I saw with Greg in Los Angeles many years ago… “The Sweet Hereafter.”

I mentioned the film to Greg, and he immediately mentioned the tragic bus crash. I, however, remembered the near tragic spider bite that almost took the life of Ian Holmes’ child. Both are very horrific scenes with tragic implications.

There was another death of an infant left its car seat recently. What a senseless, horrible tragedy! It was so bad that the police weren’t even bothering to make a charge. The woman was so devastated that no one knew what to do or say. She made a simple mistake that led to the death of her child. She will never recover.

The final scene with Tim Robbins in “Mystic River.” Sean Penn is convinced that Tim Robbins is guilty of murdering his daughter. He holds trial and executes Tim Robbins unjustly. Tim Robbins character’s life was nothing but tragic injustice.

Ultimately, all tragedy or catastrophic scenes come down to an injustice… or how we define injustice.

Perhaps when I pull the shrapnel from my side, I’ll be able to define injustice a little more and have more tragic offerings for my heroic big brother…

Mr. Bootles

Notes & Personal Tragedy

Got the notes off the Ryan. I don't think I was very clear, but I was writing at about 2am last night. My hope is that the general ideas were clear. Everything else is subject to further discussion.

Next, personal tragedy.

I was on the phone with Greg the other day talking about our new idea. We had made a breakthrough and he was giving me some additional thoughts. "The main thing now, is to come up with compelling tragic events..." Can I tell you, this is really difficult when sitting on an empty beach in NC soaking up beauty.

Well, it was difficult. Then the rip current arrived. Four of us adults and two kids (my youngest included) got caught in a rip current. Granted, it only felt serious for about 30-40 seconds. Melinda and her Uncle were really shaken. Then it hit me, what if I had been passed out on the beach as my wife and youngest son, along with uncle, brother-in-law, and nephew had all been swept out to sea.

You are never too far from tragedy. I spent the rest of the afternoon very cold. Not from the event, but from this grim reminder and the further thoughts in that general direction. There is this real palpable horror to events that change in a second. From being completely wrapped up in one way of thinking and then being shaken radically by coming face to face with death. Much like the DC metro.

I would write more, but I don't want to get sun screen on my keyboard.

Peace,

Mr. Bootles

I've been gearing up for the big vacation

Most people work really hard and then take a vacation to recover from said work. I, however, am a revolutionary. In the face of tons of fast approaching deadlines, personal projects, and outstanding promises, I am ditching them all for a quick trip down to Topsail, NC.

The good news is that I will still be able to post. Still be able to work on at least two of my big projects... and still get my notes off to Ryan.

On another note, I saw Pirates of the Carribean 2. While not stellar, I really enjoyed the film. It had great sequences, developing characters, and it was just fun. Tons better than Superman Returns. I expect it to make even more huge dollars. I am certain it won't launch any philosopical discussions (at least directly,) but it certainly is the first true blockbuster of the summer. And who doesn't enjoy a good blockbuster now and again?

Peace,

Mr. Bootles

I've been gearing up for the big vacation

Most people work really hard and then take a vacation to recover from said work. I, however, am a revolutionary. In the face of tons of fast approaching deadlines, personal projects, and outstanding promises, I am ditching them all for a quick trip down to Topsail, NC.

The good news is that I will still be able to post. Still be able to work on at least two of my big projects... and still get my notes off to Ryan.

On another note, I saw Pirates of the Carribean 2. While not stellar, I really enjoyed the film. It had great sequences, developing characters, and it was just fun. Tons better than Superman Returns. I expect it to make even more huge dollars. I am certain it won't launch any philosopical discussions (at least directly,) but it certainly is the first true blockbuster of the summer. And who doesn't enjoy a good blockbuster now and again?

Peace,

Mr. Bootles

Feeling Better

Wow! I am truly humbled by the response to my return to the blog. It is good to be back. Now, a few administrative items….

To Japhy99*,

Just after posting yesterday, I panicked. I decided to verify that profanity had been included in the responses. On first pass, I couldn’t find it. Then I really panicked. As fate would have it, I found it on a second pass. Nestled in one of Punky Jam Jam’s first replies. The big F dash, dash, dash**. Which brings me to my next admin item….

To Punky Jam Jams,

Good to hear from you as well. Glad to see that you found out who was impersonating you and making comments in your name. Thanks for the kind words.

Also, to Greg,

Thanks for redefining a very bad picture. You helped me shake the dust off my boots and get me the heck out of Lazy Town once and for all. BTW, the magic isn’t panera. It is the amazing combination of your honesty and patience, both of which I appreciate so much.

Now, what next?

My first goal is to get back to helping some others. Ryan in particular. He sent me a new script a few weeks back. I printed it out today (prefer to read hard copies) and hope to give him some good feedback.

Second, make good on the good seeds planted last night at panera bread. After doing everything but what we should have been doing, Greg and I did make some good progress on our latest story.

Third, and perhaps most dear to me… return to Petersburg, VA circa 1981. Finish “Confederama” and truly become comfortable with a Union victory and equality for all. Then and only then can I face the denizens of the DC Metro with the love of Christ.

Mr. Bootles
* Heathen? What? Like compared to Greg? I don’t think so.

** Fear again. I almost couldn’t find it again today. The truth is, a pathetic moralist like myself will stoop to almost any level to justify inaction. Even peg the one and only Punky Jam Jams with excessive profanity over one word. Punky Jam Jams, I owe you an apology. Please forgive me.

I'm Back... but Troubled

In the last two days two of my friends have mentioned that they still checked my blog on a regular basis and that they were disappointed that I haven’t been keeping up with the writing.

I am without excuse.

In an effort to divert my falling short, I mentioned to one friend in particular that I was disturbed by what I considered inappropriate use of profanity* in his previous responses to my post. That was a mistake. The short story is that I am branded a Pharisee.

Now I am not only unable to discipline myself and write regularly, but I also am an arrogant moralist… and a hypocrite because on occasion I have uttered profane words.

And even my personal anecdotes missed the mark. Last week I truly believe I was nearly assaulted by a self proclaimed “negro Diablo” in the DC Metro. As I recounted the harrowing event, the only response was that even my personal stories have third act troubles.

So, now what am I going to do?

I made a veiled threat to up date my blog regularly.

I am still working on “Confederama,” but I ask you… how can I truly address structural problems in my script, when even the simplest of personal anecdotes is poorly structured?

I guess we will see, but don’t expect anything.

Mr. Bootles


* I realize that this may tempt you, the reader, to unleash a tirade of unspeakable profanity in the response area. I probably deserve it. But I ask you, please refrain. May I recommend visiting another blog… ‘a web of lies and deceit.’ I know the author, and he said that he welcomes profanity. In fact, he embraces it.

Thank you,

Mr. Bootles

Getting back to basics

Found this great picture on the web.

I used to drive by this building on a regular basis when I was in college many years ago. I never went inside. I had heard many rumors about the place and what went on behind those hallowed doors, but I stayed away.

As it turns out, it doesn't exist any more. It has been replaced by a more suitable museum (Battle of Chattanooga Museum - or something like it.)

Though my screenplay has nothing to do with an old out of place old museum called "Confederama." It does have to do with things old and out of place. Today, I am returning to the scene of the screenplay - Petersburg, VA. It is always difficult to return to a place that has served as such an inspiration.

Will reality undermine the bizarre and funny events that surround Nostalgiafest and the dubious activity of the Confederate 132nd? Time will tell.

Must get going. I'll post some pictures of the trip after I return.

M. Bootles.

Say what you want about hymns...

Say what you want about hymns, but I challenge anyone to call a hymn like this one, old, out of date, or irrelevant.

While I enjoy praise music as much as anyone, there is a distinct and beautiful narrative to this hymn that is sorely lacking in many of our contemporary tunes. So, for your enjoyment… the lyrics of one of my favorite hymns.

Happy Easter.

And can it be that I should gain An interest in the Savior's blood!
Died he for me? who caused his pain! For me? who him to death pursued?
Amazing love! How can it be that thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love! How can it be that thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

'Tis mystery all: th' Immortal dies! Who can explore his strange design?
In vain the firstborn seraph tries to sound the depths of love divine.
‘Tis mercy all! Let earth adore; let angel minds inquire no more.
'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore; let angel minds inquire no more.

He left his Father's throne above (so free, so infinite his grace!),
emptied himself of all but love, and bled for Adam's helpless race.
'Tis mercy all, immense and free, for O my God, it found out me!
'Tis mercy all, immense and free, for O my God, it found out me!

Long my imprisoned spirit lay, fast bound in sin and nature's night;
thine eye diffused a quickening ray; I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
my chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed thee.
My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed thee.

No condemnation now I dread; Jesus, and all in him, is mine;
alive in him, my living Head, and clothed in righteousness divine,
bold I approach th' eternal throne, and claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Bold I approach th' eternal throne, and claim the crown, through Christ my own.

M Bootles