Tuesday, July 8, 2014


When I'm not drinking, I'm an insomniac. This means that I'm usually up until about two in the morning, even if I go to bed at midnight. The only thing that helps me finally give in to the sandman is when I make up stories in my head. Not as a professional writer, mind you. I'm talking about fantasies. One of the big ones is the simple what-if question, and the one I keep going back to is this: what if terrorists took over my workplace? How would I respond? Sometimes, I imagine myself in the role of John McClane, dealing all sorts of psychotically violent deaths to scumbags, and others I feel like a reasonable liaison between the bad guys and the hostages, always trying to negotiate for freedom, or at least more comfort in a very uncomfortable position. But I'm sure you can guess that for the most part, the big question on my mind is, "What would Bruce Willis do?" I can't explain why I always come back to this fantasy, but it goes back a loooooong time. When I was in junior high, I wrote a story in which a group of terrorists take over a school (which closely resembles mine), and a group of kids (led by someone who reminds me a great deal of myself) is the only hope to beat the bad guys. I came up with all kinds of crazy shit, like traps we set up using things we found in the chemistry lab. Bombs we created using the gas ovens in the home economics room. And compass points make for excellent stabbing weapons.

I'd blame it all on the Sean Astin film, TOY SOLDIERS, but I'd already acquired this fantasy by the time I first saw it. It only served to reinforce what I already had in my head. Still haven't started drinking Scope to get fucked up, though, so it's not a complete loss . . .

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