As I presaged with a Tolstoyian sense of advance plotting and foreshadowing by making some zombie jokes earlier this week, next week's stories will be all about zombies. I'm pretty sure we're going seven-for-seven when it comes to undead-lumbering-corpses, and not hacker-controlled computers, or mixed drinks, or mid-'90s Milestone Comics characters.
Today's story The Shark and the NINJA is about loansharks, who I think deserve the "shark" designation for a variety of reasons both positive and negative. Bucket of extra caveats: Predatory lending had done a number on this country, and I have exaggerated certain facts for dramatic effect. And there is no person named Vic. And I really don't want to strike up anything approximating xenophobia -- the first draft had more of it than the merest whiff that currently remains. But the NINJA concept is real. And of course ninjas were real, if wildly overblown in Western media. And I apologise to anyone who wanted to have a real ninja fight a real shark: that does not happen in this story. No real ninjas or sharks.
But next week: zombies! And plenty of them!
Showing posts with label Sharks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sharks. Show all posts
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Shark Week: The No-duck Pond
I'm not even through my introduction week here at Rutgers, and already I'm valuing all the free time I used to have. Vacations! Netflix! The Onion! All fond memories, to which I shall say adieu.
I'll be taking 18 credits this fall, plus trying to get involved in several clubs, plus whatever other networking opportunities present themselves. It won't be nearly so much work after this first semester, but all the same, I'm cringing in advance for my Netflix envelopes gathering dust.
It makes me really appreciate all the time I took advantage of having time. I'm glad for every movie I watched, every social event I attended, every cave trip and volunteer position I signed up for. I'm especially glad for keeping to the daily deadline for these stories for the past year and a half. I don't have time to write them, but I can always find two minutes to read them aloud.
Today's story, The No-duck Pond, is based on the pond in South Orange, NJ where I used to live. It was murky and duck-fouled and probably only two feet deep. But that murk held the pond's residents secret. There was at least one monster fish in there, the size of a large cat, and seeing it crest the top of the murk was South Orange's variation of seeing the Loch Ness Monster. I doubt I'll have time to visit South Orange any time in the next few months. See you some time in mid-2008, giant freak fish. - Sean
I'll be taking 18 credits this fall, plus trying to get involved in several clubs, plus whatever other networking opportunities present themselves. It won't be nearly so much work after this first semester, but all the same, I'm cringing in advance for my Netflix envelopes gathering dust.
It makes me really appreciate all the time I took advantage of having time. I'm glad for every movie I watched, every social event I attended, every cave trip and volunteer position I signed up for. I'm especially glad for keeping to the daily deadline for these stories for the past year and a half. I don't have time to write them, but I can always find two minutes to read them aloud.
Today's story, The No-duck Pond, is based on the pond in South Orange, NJ where I used to live. It was murky and duck-fouled and probably only two feet deep. But that murk held the pond's residents secret. There was at least one monster fish in there, the size of a large cat, and seeing it crest the top of the murk was South Orange's variation of seeing the Loch Ness Monster. I doubt I'll have time to visit South Orange any time in the next few months. See you some time in mid-2008, giant freak fish. - Sean
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Shark Week: Dermal Denticles
I volunteered in an aquarium for a few months, and there was a shark tank there. Mostly tiger and nurse sharks. Kids always asked how soon the sharks would give birth, because they carried big swells on their undersides just before the claspers. But the sharks were male.
Those swells were a unsolved mystery. When a shark died, within the few hours it was pulled from the tank and put on an aluminum table the swelling has disappeared. It was some sort of fluid build-up, which dissipated back into the muscles and organs. They suspected there was something in the water. Or, since they made synthetic salt water on site, they were something NOT in the water they didn't know to add to make it true ocean brine.
Our full-on shark-fu story, Dermal Denticles, contains lots more shark trivia, including one bit that may be fatal for the main character not to know. You'll know it in just a minute, and if you're ever in the same situation, perhaps your life will be saved. All part of the service here.
Those swells were a unsolved mystery. When a shark died, within the few hours it was pulled from the tank and put on an aluminum table the swelling has disappeared. It was some sort of fluid build-up, which dissipated back into the muscles and organs. They suspected there was something in the water. Or, since they made synthetic salt water on site, they were something NOT in the water they didn't know to add to make it true ocean brine.
Our full-on shark-fu story, Dermal Denticles, contains lots more shark trivia, including one bit that may be fatal for the main character not to know. You'll know it in just a minute, and if you're ever in the same situation, perhaps your life will be saved. All part of the service here.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Shark Week: Adena Land Sharks
The first day of grad school is in the bag. There were contracts to sign in blood, souls to wave bye-bye to; the usual. It's catered, so we had our choice or regular or extra crispy baby. Hopefully this won't be a morally deadening time for me. Oh, did I mention a scavenger hunt of children's eyeballs? We got to keep the scalpels.
A fear I had going into this was that business school would be full of future guys from Enron. The sort of guys that drive Porsches and are villains of movies where the protagonists don't drive Porsches. Part of me is still scared in five years I'll be in some Boiler Room situation with my newfound degree.
But with eight hours of MBA experience under my belt, I can say I don't expect a single person I've met to ever be on trial for fraud, embezzlement, insider trading, or any other white-collar crime. Everyone I met is here for the same reason I am: this is how the world works, and we want a bigger hand in trying to make the world a better place. Plus, the work we'll do at the end of these two years is not exactly charity. Giant mounds of cash are factors here.
Speaking of giant mounds, today's story is Adena Land Sharks. Subtle psychological tension is wonderful and good, but sometimes you just want giant monsters. The Indian burial mounds mentioned in here actually exist throughout the Ohio Valley: when Jeff and I get around to making the American Map o' Horror, we'll have Ohio already in the bag.
A fear I had going into this was that business school would be full of future guys from Enron. The sort of guys that drive Porsches and are villains of movies where the protagonists don't drive Porsches. Part of me is still scared in five years I'll be in some Boiler Room situation with my newfound degree.
But with eight hours of MBA experience under my belt, I can say I don't expect a single person I've met to ever be on trial for fraud, embezzlement, insider trading, or any other white-collar crime. Everyone I met is here for the same reason I am: this is how the world works, and we want a bigger hand in trying to make the world a better place. Plus, the work we'll do at the end of these two years is not exactly charity. Giant mounds of cash are factors here.
Speaking of giant mounds, today's story is Adena Land Sharks. Subtle psychological tension is wonderful and good, but sometimes you just want giant monsters. The Indian burial mounds mentioned in here actually exist throughout the Ohio Valley: when Jeff and I get around to making the American Map o' Horror, we'll have Ohio already in the bag.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Shark Week: The Sandtiger Sisters
We return Shark Week to full-bore shark fu with The Sandtiger Sisters, featuring an aspect of shark life that isn't well-known but exemplifies why they are the Samuel L. Jacksons of the oceans, bad bad creatures that treat the world as their oyster, or chum, or baby seal.
The trend is known as adelphaphagia, which you can figure out if you know Latin or if you smack it into Google. Or if you take a listen to the story.
Note: Usually the stories start out as ideas, then a few months (or years, in many cases) before today we write them, then a week or so before we record them, and the day of we post them. Sandtiger Sisters is different. I had kicked the idea around for a while, but started writing it a half hour ago, finished ten minutes ago, finished recording it five minutes ago, and am posting it now. (YMMV for when now is, of course: my now is 10:40 or so.)
If I had done this the usual way, there would have been no last line. I would have let the story stew ending on the penultimate line, growing more and more content that I let the audience deduce what happened next instead of told them. But there's a satisfaction in reading this, in the performance, to end on something more than a mild hint of bad things to come.
The trend is known as adelphaphagia, which you can figure out if you know Latin or if you smack it into Google. Or if you take a listen to the story.
Note: Usually the stories start out as ideas, then a few months (or years, in many cases) before today we write them, then a week or so before we record them, and the day of we post them. Sandtiger Sisters is different. I had kicked the idea around for a while, but started writing it a half hour ago, finished ten minutes ago, finished recording it five minutes ago, and am posting it now. (YMMV for when now is, of course: my now is 10:40 or so.)
If I had done this the usual way, there would have been no last line. I would have let the story stew ending on the penultimate line, growing more and more content that I let the audience deduce what happened next instead of told them. But there's a satisfaction in reading this, in the performance, to end on something more than a mild hint of bad things to come.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Shark Week: Anticancer Sticks
Today's tale Anticancer Sticks is the first example of what could uncharitably be called stretching, and ironically called jumping the shark. It's a story in shark week, but the shark reference is an oblique one. And necessitates a bit of common-but-not-ubiquitous knowledge: sharks don't get cancer.
I believe that's since been proven untrue; it's more than sharks are highly unlikely to get cancer, or that they don't bother to get checked because their HMO sucks anyway, or quite possibly because raise you hand if you want to give a shark a colonoscopy. But it's a potent fact/legend/myth for the modern age, that the perfect killing machine, untouched by evolution in hundreds of millions of years, is so close to perfect that even on the cellular level there are no screw-ups.
So there's your shark connection, explained. We purposefully wanted shark week early on, and purposefully did not want to come up with seven-full-on shark stories. We want the knowledge that we can get a bit creative, that so long as we deliver the type of goods that are our stock in trade, we can still throw some curveballs in.
Besides, as Sean said yesterday, there are only so many ways to spin a teensy story that begins with a man and a shark circling each other in the water.
I believe that's since been proven untrue; it's more than sharks are highly unlikely to get cancer, or that they don't bother to get checked because their HMO sucks anyway, or quite possibly because raise you hand if you want to give a shark a colonoscopy. But it's a potent fact/legend/myth for the modern age, that the perfect killing machine, untouched by evolution in hundreds of millions of years, is so close to perfect that even on the cellular level there are no screw-ups.
So there's your shark connection, explained. We purposefully wanted shark week early on, and purposefully did not want to come up with seven-full-on shark stories. We want the knowledge that we can get a bit creative, that so long as we deliver the type of goods that are our stock in trade, we can still throw some curveballs in.
Besides, as Sean said yesterday, there are only so many ways to spin a teensy story that begins with a man and a shark circling each other in the water.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Shark Week: Shark Fin Soup
They live to kill. Evolution hasn't been able to improve them in 70 million years. They don't sleep. They don't get cancer. All they do is eat.
But enough about my ex-wife, folks! I'm kidding, I'm kidding, she's a wonderful woman.
If we had launched this site a little earlier maybe we could have lined up our Shark Week with the Discovery Channel's fin-tacular celebration. For whatever reason, neither Jeff nor I have written many shark stories. We want to get twists and satisfying surprises on everything, and when you start with someone in the water and a shark fin steering toward them, exactly how do you expect the story to go? We've got enough to give you a full week, but every other week has had a much bigger pool to pick from: we could do vampire and ghost months and still have a lot of leftovers. Hopefully there's no quality dip. (For this same reason: it'll be a while before we scrape together enough for Mummy Week. We could barely do a three-day weekend with our current mummy crop.)
We'll start with Shark Fin Soup, with a fisherman culling fins for this Chinese delicacy. I had this for the first time last week, at a Chinese wedding. The fishing techniques I describe in this story are all too common. I had a bit of a moral dilemma when the tureen was placed at our table. I pretended the shark in the tureen died of old age.
But enough about my ex-wife, folks! I'm kidding, I'm kidding, she's a wonderful woman.
If we had launched this site a little earlier maybe we could have lined up our Shark Week with the Discovery Channel's fin-tacular celebration. For whatever reason, neither Jeff nor I have written many shark stories. We want to get twists and satisfying surprises on everything, and when you start with someone in the water and a shark fin steering toward them, exactly how do you expect the story to go? We've got enough to give you a full week, but every other week has had a much bigger pool to pick from: we could do vampire and ghost months and still have a lot of leftovers. Hopefully there's no quality dip. (For this same reason: it'll be a while before we scrape together enough for Mummy Week. We could barely do a three-day weekend with our current mummy crop.)
We'll start with Shark Fin Soup, with a fisherman culling fins for this Chinese delicacy. I had this for the first time last week, at a Chinese wedding. The fishing techniques I describe in this story are all too common. I had a bit of a moral dilemma when the tureen was placed at our table. I pretended the shark in the tureen died of old age.
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