Writers-Block-A-Thon #3
Aug. 8th, 2008 03:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badatapologiesPeriodically, noted American minx ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mcbrennan answers pertinent, cutting edge questions from the befuddled hive mind, helping to cut through the fog of 21st century living and tell it like it is. Also, sometimes she writes about herself in the third person.
Is there a topic you can't stop writing about in your journal? Why do you write about it so much?
I originally started this journal to write clever, detached, supersmart, superjaded things that would endear me to the public at large, leading to book deals and screenplay deals and tattoos and TV appearances and eventually changing my name to "Diablo". But when I got here I did what every other 15 year old girl does, I started whining about my life to all my friends. And totally ruined everything. And when I'm not comfortable writing about my life, I don't write about anything. And that is so lame. So yes. Self loathing. Jonas Brothers ruuuuulz!!1! Next question.
Do you have any odd nervous habits?
Whining about my life in my blog. Not sleeping until the sun comes up.
If you could be God for a day, what three things would be at the top of your to-do list?
Well, I'd screw it up. I mean, the system almost has to be exactly as it is, right? Because if you could do something like eliminate suffering or disease or death, if you could make life into some kind of a utopia and have it all still work, a reasonable god would have done that already, right? So anything I did would be creating some alternate kind of system, where people, beings, whatever, were free to imagine or create or revisit whatever kind of life would make them happiest.
I should do that, actually.
What creature would your ideal electronic pet resemble? Would it resemble any? What would it look like?
I wouldn't want an electronic pet. But I'll tell you what I would want: Twiki from "Buck Rogers". Preferably with special Dr. Theopolis neckwear. Because there's no situation that can't be improved by a stylish robot factotum that talks like Mel Blanc and a smiley-faced electronic pendant-slash-superbrain.
Do you miss anyone right now? What past experiences with this person, or these persons, make it easy for you to miss them?
"Do I miss anybody right now". Yeesh. Let me see, am I breathing? Then yes. Yes I do. I miss my grandmothers, who raised me and actually cared if I lived or died. And I miss my father, though he didn't and mostly didn't. I miss my ex-spouse, because even though our romantic relationship was never going to work, our friendship was something I really valued. I miss my pets, especially Bart. And I miss my friends (and, erm, friends) from high school who mostly bailed on me after the whole gender thing turned out to be real and not some clever Bowie-esque pose. Missing people is something I do too well.
If you could make your own reality show, what would it be about and who would be on it?
Who gets to edit it? If I get the edit, then that reality show would be about me and how incredibly freaking interesting I am. You know, like that Anna Nicole show, that worked out really well for her. Otherwise it's a ten-week documentary called "John McCain, Adult Baby".
Is there a story behind your real name or avatar? How did you end up being called that?
I'm still a little squeamish about the word "avatar". Invest in a dictionary, young people. An avatar is the physical incarnation of God almighty. What you've got there is some dumbass gif of InuYasha.
I don't really have a "real" name, honestly. I've never laid eyes on my original birth certificate and only one living person knows what it said (and it ain't me). I've seen a later version, on which I was given the name of some friend of my uncle (who was seven at the time) and the name of one of my various stepfathers. I eventually took the first and middle names of the heroine of J. M. Barrie's Peter Pan--Wendy Moira. Then that evolved into the current legal name by a vague series of events involving a considerable helping of alcohol and a brief but passionate obsession with the Pogues' Rum, Sodomy and The Lash. I was 22, what can I say. I soon learned that not only was there an Irish singer with my exact first and last name, but also there was a published author with my middle and last name, so I was stuck using the initials, and that's why I'm "M. C. Brennan" to the great unwashed. Although Brennan's not my legal last name anymore because I was married for several years. Frankly I'm about ready to chuck the whole thing and come up with a new name, professionally anyway. Something catchy, like "Balthazar Methuzelah" or "Euphenia Alice Huffenstance." Er, perhaps I should open the floor to suggestions.
If you had to immigrate from your current home, where in the world would you choose to go?
I'm sure I'd go to one of the more advanced European democracies. Someplace with universal health coverage. Someplace where they know the difference between "immigrate" and "emigrate". My people are mostly Celtic types--Welsh, Irish, Scots--so maybe I'd head that way. There's lovely Canada, too, but then again, I have to tell you I'm not big on snow. I really prefer a nice moderate-to-warm climate. South of France? I don't know. It's a bit conservative down there but I'd think about Australia or New Zealand, they have warm beaches and good bands. Again, I'm open to suggestions.
What happened to you today?
Not much. It rained. I did laundry and worked on a short screenplay.
What do you want written on your gravestone and why?
"Do not open until Christmas"
"Objects in grave may be closer than they appear"
"$1500 for obstructed view seats?"
"Maybe I should have challenged him to checkers."
"Where be my gibes now? Seriously, send down some gibes, I'm starving."
"Screw you, 21 and 24."
"This is a good place for a Stick-Up."
"Laugh while you can, monkey boy."
"Well, at least I'm not next to Andy Dick."
"I'm worth more if you leave me in the original packaging."
"Oh, duck. I get it."
"Jeez, rough crowd."
"I suppose there'll be taxes next."
"Wow, I'm finally starting to look like Calista Flockheart."
"Don't tell Bush but I think there's oil down here."
"Well, I'm stuck. Anybody got any ideas?"
"That one monologue from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern seems particularly appropriate right about now."
"Huh. A quarter."
"Okay, who's the joker who stole my shoes?"
"Aw shit, I left the oven on."
"Never wear a red shirt to a Star Trek convention."
"Do I smell brains?"
mcbrennan answers pertinent, cutting edge questions from the befuddled hive mind, helping to cut through the fog of 21st century living and tell it like it is. Also, sometimes she writes about herself in the third person. Is there a topic you can't stop writing about in your journal? Why do you write about it so much?
I originally started this journal to write clever, detached, supersmart, superjaded things that would endear me to the public at large, leading to book deals and screenplay deals and tattoos and TV appearances and eventually changing my name to "Diablo". But when I got here I did what every other 15 year old girl does, I started whining about my life to all my friends. And totally ruined everything. And when I'm not comfortable writing about my life, I don't write about anything. And that is so lame. So yes. Self loathing. Jonas Brothers ruuuuulz!!1! Next question.
Do you have any odd nervous habits?
Whining about my life in my blog. Not sleeping until the sun comes up.
If you could be God for a day, what three things would be at the top of your to-do list?
Well, I'd screw it up. I mean, the system almost has to be exactly as it is, right? Because if you could do something like eliminate suffering or disease or death, if you could make life into some kind of a utopia and have it all still work, a reasonable god would have done that already, right? So anything I did would be creating some alternate kind of system, where people, beings, whatever, were free to imagine or create or revisit whatever kind of life would make them happiest.
I should do that, actually.
What creature would your ideal electronic pet resemble? Would it resemble any? What would it look like?
I wouldn't want an electronic pet. But I'll tell you what I would want: Twiki from "Buck Rogers". Preferably with special Dr. Theopolis neckwear. Because there's no situation that can't be improved by a stylish robot factotum that talks like Mel Blanc and a smiley-faced electronic pendant-slash-superbrain.
Do you miss anyone right now? What past experiences with this person, or these persons, make it easy for you to miss them?
"Do I miss anybody right now". Yeesh. Let me see, am I breathing? Then yes. Yes I do. I miss my grandmothers, who raised me and actually cared if I lived or died. And I miss my father, though he didn't and mostly didn't. I miss my ex-spouse, because even though our romantic relationship was never going to work, our friendship was something I really valued. I miss my pets, especially Bart. And I miss my friends (and, erm, friends) from high school who mostly bailed on me after the whole gender thing turned out to be real and not some clever Bowie-esque pose. Missing people is something I do too well.
If you could make your own reality show, what would it be about and who would be on it?
Who gets to edit it? If I get the edit, then that reality show would be about me and how incredibly freaking interesting I am. You know, like that Anna Nicole show, that worked out really well for her. Otherwise it's a ten-week documentary called "John McCain, Adult Baby".
Is there a story behind your real name or avatar? How did you end up being called that?
I'm still a little squeamish about the word "avatar". Invest in a dictionary, young people. An avatar is the physical incarnation of God almighty. What you've got there is some dumbass gif of InuYasha.
I don't really have a "real" name, honestly. I've never laid eyes on my original birth certificate and only one living person knows what it said (and it ain't me). I've seen a later version, on which I was given the name of some friend of my uncle (who was seven at the time) and the name of one of my various stepfathers. I eventually took the first and middle names of the heroine of J. M. Barrie's Peter Pan--Wendy Moira. Then that evolved into the current legal name by a vague series of events involving a considerable helping of alcohol and a brief but passionate obsession with the Pogues' Rum, Sodomy and The Lash. I was 22, what can I say. I soon learned that not only was there an Irish singer with my exact first and last name, but also there was a published author with my middle and last name, so I was stuck using the initials, and that's why I'm "M. C. Brennan" to the great unwashed. Although Brennan's not my legal last name anymore because I was married for several years. Frankly I'm about ready to chuck the whole thing and come up with a new name, professionally anyway. Something catchy, like "Balthazar Methuzelah" or "Euphenia Alice Huffenstance." Er, perhaps I should open the floor to suggestions.
If you had to immigrate from your current home, where in the world would you choose to go?
I'm sure I'd go to one of the more advanced European democracies. Someplace with universal health coverage. Someplace where they know the difference between "immigrate" and "emigrate". My people are mostly Celtic types--Welsh, Irish, Scots--so maybe I'd head that way. There's lovely Canada, too, but then again, I have to tell you I'm not big on snow. I really prefer a nice moderate-to-warm climate. South of France? I don't know. It's a bit conservative down there but I'd think about Australia or New Zealand, they have warm beaches and good bands. Again, I'm open to suggestions.
What happened to you today?
Not much. It rained. I did laundry and worked on a short screenplay.
What do you want written on your gravestone and why?
"Do not open until Christmas"
"Objects in grave may be closer than they appear"
"$1500 for obstructed view seats?"
"Maybe I should have challenged him to checkers."
"Where be my gibes now? Seriously, send down some gibes, I'm starving."
"Screw you, 21 and 24."
"This is a good place for a Stick-Up."
"Laugh while you can, monkey boy."
"Well, at least I'm not next to Andy Dick."
"I'm worth more if you leave me in the original packaging."
"Oh, duck. I get it."
"Jeez, rough crowd."
"I suppose there'll be taxes next."
"Wow, I'm finally starting to look like Calista Flockheart."
"Don't tell Bush but I think there's oil down here."
"Well, I'm stuck. Anybody got any ideas?"
"That one monologue from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern seems particularly appropriate right about now."
"Huh. A quarter."
"Okay, who's the joker who stole my shoes?"
"Aw shit, I left the oven on."
"Never wear a red shirt to a Star Trek convention."
"Do I smell brains?"
