Most of what I’ve written in the last year (save that which I have written for academic reasons) has been verbal diarrhea. While a thorough cleansing of my literary colon did my chakras a world of good, an itch has since come upon me to write of things less vulgar, for the world presently has more vulgarity than it needs. I actually have specific ideas in mind about what such things would be, which I shan’t reveal just yet.
Mostly because I had other fish to fry. However, my experience writing SILVER BROWN (and subsequently 2021’s project for National Novel Writing Month, which was an offshoot of SILVER BROWN) came up as a topic whilst chatting with somebody I met once on one of those crazy apps. The conversation fizzled soon after I brought up the talking ferret, but it got me thinking about what kind of grand artistic endeavour I should tackle next. During the holidays, I spontaneously jotted down something in the notepad on my phone to that effect, which I’ll have to wait until the end of the academic year to pursue in earnest.
I took a class in Abnormal Psychology this last semester. Had to take one elective outside the standard curriculum to advance to the next semester, and Abnormal Psychology was available as an option. So I took it, thinking it would be an interesting course to take. ‘Twas. Bumped into a few old acquaintances on the pages of that textbook. My final assignment was to submit a paper where I wax psychiatric about the biological horror masterpiece that is David Cronenberg’s The Fly. The professor would’ve accepted any memorable villain or antihero from a movie, so I opted to go all Sigmund Freud on the eponymous insect-human hybrid, on the assumption that Hannibal Lecter, Michael Corleone and Darth Vader would be done to death. Best homework assignment ever. Reminiscent of Grade 10 science, except I verbally dissected a Brundlefly. But why in the blazes doesn’t Disney+ have the sequel?
Five and ¾ Senses 