Chained To The Keyboard

I’ve been back from Viet Nam for three whole weeks, and I haven’t gotten around to blogging until now. I wish I could say it’s because I’m swamped with work, but really I just have very little to say.

This will change. Some wondrous and magical things are happening in the next month: Superman Returns will be released, my comic book submission will be finished and sent off to interested parties, and DC will finally get around to publishing Seven Soldiers #1 (Gods willing). So stay tuned for more Superman musings, mini-reviews of Grant Morrison works, and maybe even some stuff about writing.

In the meantime, if you’re stuck for entertainment, Slither is a really excellent film (X-Men 3, on the other hand, was god-awful tripe). And if you’re a comics neophyte, and you somehow wander into a comic store and they won’t let you out without purchasing something, you could do worse than Light Brigade and Flight: Volume 1. The former is a guts-and-glory summer action blockbuster; the latter is a beautiful collection of short stories, all by writer-artists (’cartoonists’).

Until next time…

I’m going to Vietnam in less than two weeks.

I’m not even sure how this happened. It probably has something to do with my girlfriend undergoing a one-third-life crisis and deciding she was going to travel and see the world No Matter What. I got swept up in her jetstream, and now I’m off to spend 2-3 months in the Socialist Republic of Vietnam.

It still feels slightly unreal. There are some places that you are absolutely certain you’ll get around to visiting in your lifetime. Vietnam was never one of mine. I’m going to be living in a country with a political system completely antithetical to anything I’ve ever known; a place which, when I thought about it before, carried only images of war and burning forests. Certainly, my Lonely Planet guidebook is not much of a help in coming to terms with this cultural divide, as it’s suspiciously selective regarding historical information. The well-intentioned author of said guide saw fit to include extensive sidebars detailing the evils of the U.S. and Australian militaries during the war, as well as the glorious deeds of Ho Chi Minh (who I always thought was simply a lesser Mao or Stalin, his murders numbered in thousands rather than millions).

These are things I must come to terms with. The flight is two weeks away, and I feel supremely uninformed. I feel like I lack sufficient knowledge of Buddhism, Daoism, Confucianism, the Chinese invasion, the French colonial rule, the war between the north and south, even the American war. I feel unequipped in a way I never did in Europe, as if people will spot my lack of historical knowledge a mile away. I don’t want to be another gawking tourist with a camera, yet I barely know where to start.

But all that aside, I’m starting to warm to the idea. We’ll be spending most of the time in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon to the locals), so I’ll have plenty of time to explore. Along with the usual cheap tailoring and pirated DVDs, they apparently sell ‘pirated books’ over there, an idea which I am struggling to comprehend. Foodwise, there’s the snake’s blood, barbequed monkey, fried grasshoppers, frogs, snails and, of course, Man’s Best Friend. I’m not sure if this makes the Vietnamese daring culinary pioneers or hungry crazy people who eat anything that wanders near them, but I’m about to find out.

Most of all, I think this will be a good place to write. I’ve got my travel laptop all ready to go, and ideas for the next spec script kicking around in my brain. I’ve even considered keeping a diary and dabbling in a bit of travel writing. But one thing’s for sure: I’ll be indulging in the Drunken Bearded Expatriate Writer stereotype, in the best tradition of Hemingway. And I promise to keep you all updated.

That is, if I haven’t been caught and eaten by hungry people.

Go ahead and read this article in The Age. Now try not to throw up in your mouth a little.

Just as Bush told the United States that the war in Iraq was ‘over’, so our Prime Minister is here to tell us that the “culture wars” have been won. The time for “divisive, phoney debate about national identity” is apparently over. This in a year of race riots, publicised executions, needless war and yet more asylum seeker controversy. But the PM says the war is over; we can stop talking about it now.

He also wants us to know that history is being taught incorrectly in schools. They shouldn’t question our nation’s “objective record of achievement”; instead they should glorify “the great and enduring heritage of Western civilisation, those nations that became the major tributaries of European settlement”. Nevermind that discourse is the key to historical study; nevermind the old spectre of colonial shame. The PM says the war is won.

Our Prime Minister is happy because statistics show that fewer Australians are ashamed of our nation’s past, a past which - aside from certain military actions in the Great War and Second World War - is blackened irreparably by xenophobia, isolationism and fawning obeisance to other Western countries. But the PM says we should all forget; the war has been won.

Well, fuck that.

There are people out there who aren’t so willing to surrender the cultural battlefield to this new, more paranoid Australia. Fuck giving up debate for the sake of national identity. Fuck giving up privacy for the sake of security.

As long as Australian culture continues to champion infantilism and ignorance, the cultural war will be necessary. How like a tyrant to declare the war over before it has even begun.

Happy Australia Day.

Photographed in the elevator of my friend’s apartment complex:

When will the horror stop, Marvel?

When will Stan Lee admit to the evil he has unleashed upon the world?

I hope everyone had a Merry Whatever. I know I did. I’m still eating ham and pudding.

Because it’s traditional, here are my resolutions for the new year of 2006. I banned myself from including any wishy-washy “I want to be a better person”-style resolutions; they’re all hard and fast goals.

In the New Year, I will:

1. Make a daily writing schedule and stick to it.

2. Update this blog at least three times a week.

3. Finish my current screenplay, and at least one other.

That’s it. I don’t think those are unreasonable goals.

I do, however, have two bonus resolutions. They are unreasonable, but I include them as a kind of extra feature, a Director’s Cut if you will:

1. Sell a screenplay.

2. Get an agent.

Happy New Year’s everyone. And if you live on the Gold Coast and you’re going to the party at my house, you better not wander into my room and throw up on my books.

Because I will find you.

It’s that hideous time of year.

Even with all the airconditioners at full capacity, I feel as though I may as well be sitting on the surface of the goddamn sun. The worst part is that I can practically feel myself getting slower and dumber in the heat.

Antonio Vivaldi hated summer. He had chronic asthma as a child, and so couldn’t go outside and play in the heat for very long without almost asphyxiating. Consequently, his ‘Summer’ movement from The Four Seasons isn’t exactly a happy, playing-on-the-beach, ideal Australian summer. It’s more of a wilting, withering, muggy, dangerous, nighttime thunderstorm kind of summer.

He wrote a little sonnet to go with it:

Beneath the blazing sun’s relentless heat
men and flocks are sweltering,
pines are scorched.
We hear the cuckoo’s voice; then sweet songs of the turtle dove and finch are heard.
Soft breezes stir the air… but threatening north wind sweeps them suddenly aside.
The shepherd trembles, fearful of violent storm and what may lie ahead.
His limbs are now awakened from their repose by fear of lightning’s flash and thunder’s roar, as gnats and flies buzz furiously around.
Alas, his worst fears were justified, as the heavens roar and great hailstones beat down upon the proudly standing corn.

I’m with you, Tony. The next Ice Age cannot come quick enough.

I apologise for the complete lack of content over the last week. During that time I’ve been:

A. Busy.

B. Sick.

C. Lazy.

And not necessarily in that order.

On the plus side, I’ve recently partaken of two excellent pieces of pop culture: Neil Gaiman’s Anansi Boys and Greg McLean’s Wolf Creek. I’ll be posting tomorrow about one or both of them. In the meantime, go read a blog that actually updates.

A little post to tide you over, Gentle Reader, as I am currently swamped with projects that need finishing. And though I may be drowning in obligations, I still have time to bring you these tantalising links:

Link The First: Bizarre but true - Spike Jones has signed on to direct the adaptation of Where The Wild Things Are. I’m having trouble even imagining this, but what I can imagine is awesome.

Link The Second: Apparently America doesn’t want its soldiers telling you the truth on their blogs. You know what, Mr. Bush? If I was the political head of an expansionist empire that happened to possess the world’s largest army, I’d probably be careful about ticking them off. I seem to recall certain ancient Emperors in your position being assassinated by their own Praetorian Guard.

On a related note, an American propagandist company has released a new free FPS game in which you play as special forces infiltrating an Iranian nuclear facility. Yeah, that’s right, Iran. A country that the U.S.A. is not at war with; a country whose ‘nuclear arsenal’ may be as real as all those nukes they found in Iraq. Kinda seems like the ‘War On Terror’ is in danger of veering off-course and going all Fourth Crusade on us.

Link The Third: And because it’s Hallowe’en, here’s some cool photos of cemeteries.

That’s all, folks. Check back tomorrow or the next day for an actual, honest-to-god post in which I rant about something or other.

My name is Xander Bennett, I live in Australia and I write things. Pleased to meet you.

Even in these interesting times, when everyone and their dog has a blog, it takes a certain level of ego-inflation to actually create one of your own. I justify it to myself by imagining that it’ll force me to write more. This is what we writers like to call ’self-delusion’.

I also think I have something to say. I’m currently halfway through a spec screenplay, I recently started working for children’s television and, as of tomorrow, I’ll be collaborating on a comic book project with an artist. Over the coming months, you’ll have the privilege of watching me edge closer - little by little - towards my ultimate goal of escaping this godforsaken continent and becoming a working Hollywood screenwriter.

Just kidding, Australia. You’re an alright continent.

So there you have it. The introductions are done. Let’s get to the good stuff.