MMA Documentary

Never did I think that intellect and ambition would fail me until today. I, alone, am no match for the corporate, business model that is the world of MMA. To even get an interview with Jon “Bones” Jones is like trying to fight Bruce Lee in the fog. What is this condition, this celebrity that refuses a man or woman the opportunity to make their own decision about how they should be represented. Where is the philosophical athlete that stands up to big business and says, “no”, I am on my own path? How can enlightenment be achieved when one’s world view is reduced to PR people, agents, bank accounts, ESPN? Maybe I just went about it the wrong way. I thought I could approach a free citizen and ask them a question. But, in order to do that, I have to get someone else’s approval. If MMA is considered art, then, why is it then so like the capitalistic dogma that true artists strive to comment and critique? I’m not sure where I am going with this. Just ranting, I guess. I was supposed to have an interview with Donald “Cowboy” Cerrone today at eleven, eleven thirty. He made the decision to do the interview, he made the decision to meet at Jackson’s gym and he did not show up.  I’m wondering if some suit got ahold of him and said, “no, Cerrone, this ain’t your gig”.

Wouldn’t it be nice if just one arena of our civilization was allowed to be- to exist independently of constructed theatre- and just is what it is. And what is that, we should ask. what is sport?

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Photo Exhibit

Printed about 30 photos. Looking to frame and display and hopefully, sell them. Haven’t yet found a theme…looking for ideas. There are a lot of pictures of monkeys, some goats, a hippo and other natural wonders, like this little guy.

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Diary of a Young Woman – the comic book

Oisin will be illustrating the short story that was published in the Apocalpyse Issue of the Rio Grande Review last year. Various implements of torture will be used to ensure that it gets done.

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Z-Man and Foxley

I’ve finished writing a children’s book that I hope will become a series: starring the heroic Z-Man and his sidekick- the zen-like Foxley.

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Hunter S. Thompson reads Mark Twain

New video from Zemifilm:

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Kaufman, Charlie. Being John Malkovich (1999).

Click here for "Being John Malkovich"

Reading the script “Being John Malkovich”.  Above, someone’s heater is pumping away and the pulsating hum evokes the feeling of being submerged in jello, packaged in a Tupperware container and chucked aboard a Boeing 747.  Lime or cherry, you say? Hmm. How about pudding? If I were breathing in chocolate pudding…oh, it’s stopped.  Nevermind. Yes, reading Charlie’s script and taking notes. Also, supplementing the piece with Syd Field’s book, Screenplay.  This research will be part of the revision process for my script:

From Cockatoo, by Stella Maria Perry

EXT. STREET – DAY

Sheena steps out of the bus and begins walking towards the

Police Station. On the ground she finds half a cigarette and

lights it. Her hands are shaking.

A car brakes for a red light. The brakes squeal. Sheena jerks

her head quickly in its direction.

Stamping out the cigarette butt, she takes a deep breath and

heads towards the dirty glass doors.

Opening a door, she immediately jumps back and runs around

the side of the building. KURT and ROLAND walk out the doors

in police uniforms.

EXT. POLICE STATION – CONTINUOUS

Sheena breathes heavily against the wall of the station. An

old, grungy man wearing bunny ears walks by.

BUNNY MAN

Miss? Hey, miss.

Sheena tries to avoid eye contact with him and peers around

the corner. The officers are still there talking.

BUNNY MAN

Miss, is everything okay?

SHEENA

Yes. Thank you.

BUNNY MAN

Who are you hiding from?

SHEENA

I’m fine.

BUNNY MAN

Can you spare any change?

Sheena shakes her head. The homeless man looks around the

corner with her.

SHEENA

(hissing at him)

Get the fuck away.

BUNNY MAN

They left.  (he tips one ear) God bless you, miss.

He saunters off. After a moment, Sheena vomits and then

collapses against the wall.

EXT. AUTO STORE – DAY

Sheena walks out with a plastic bag in her hand.

EXT. RESTAURANT – LATE AFTERNOON

Sheena stands by her 1988 Oldsmobile. A few parking tickets

are on the window. A back window is closed up with duck tape

and cardboard. Her roof is predominantly rust. She opens the

door and turns the ignition. Nothing.

In the plastic bag, she takes out some new battery connectors

and pliers. Popping the trunk, she gets to work.

Copyright 2011.

I am looking for small details that can best illustrate her state of mind. Sheena, my protagonist, is about to report on the two men who had raped her some nights (or years) prior. However, the two men step out in their police uniforms. Something needs to be done here to give the impression of heightened anxiety – and with delicate strokes of the surreal. Like with Kaufaman’s work, time here is relative, expanding and compressing in quick bursts or long breaths. What device best serves this scene? What can Bunny Man bring to the scene?

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Montage Editing

Copyright 2011

Stringfellow is back on track. The wheels have been properly greased with the oils of Atlas as he bears it one last time to see this thing through. The 2011 premiere will commence or – have me tarred and feathered. At this point…well, either follow me down or cover your eyes.

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