Mr. George A. Romero

Some years ago now, I wrote a rambling blog post that was titled “Closing the Loop On Romero.” I still have what I wrote but I’ll spare us the reposting of it. The gist of it was that when I was in the seventh grade, in my Advanced English class, we watched two films, a 1955 film titled “Les Diaboliques,” in which a wife and mistress plot to get rid of the abusive man they’ve been sharing at their digs at a French boarding school owned by the wife, and a 1968 film titled “Night of the Living Dead,” in which a group of people hole up in an abandoned house in order to escape the “living dead” rising up out of the cemetery, whom seem to be interested in dining on human flesh, which makes it sound sophomoric when it is, in fact, completely adult, and despite our seeming cultural desensitization to such horrors, if you engage your brain and think about what you’re watching, it remains a completely terrifying film.

These two films taught me to understand films as art. These two films began my fascination with films as art. It was one of those moments in life when the world changed for me, expanded, deepened, became more interesting.

Imagine the world if George Romero had never made the film, “Night of the Living Dead.” It is an art film. It has been selected for historical preservation by the Library of Congress. “Night of the Living Dead” has a lot to teach us about the ways in which people interact with one another. It isn’t the first so-called zombie film, it is, however, the zombie film that irrevocably changed our cultural landscape.

Rest in peace, Mr. Romero.

Feeling. Pretty. Psyched.

This morning I went looking for my sarcasm and my sense of humor, or, I could have called this post “An Ode to the Super Selfish Romper Room Neophytes That Tried to Kill Me but Now is NOT the Time.” Really, now is not the time. People are really hurting each other out there so it’s totes inappropes to rant and be sarcastic about people who pissed me off with their childish crap. But, I just can not take it. I mean, I just don’t have another understanding “Hallmark Moment” available to me for people who are insensitive ass-hats and I may not ever again. Their pain is glorious, and no one else exists. Well, don’t come to my door or call me no more because I haven’t got time for the pain. She used to be so nice and easy to take advantage of, what happened?

Everything seems so glum and so heavy and so serious, because it is. People are rioting and protesting and I totally picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue. That isn’t even a joke, I decided to quit drinking coming up on two months ago now. It just seemed like time. And then California had to go and pick now to legalize marijuana! Isn’t that the way? It’s more fun to get into the bar when you aren’t yet twenty-one? Well, “no, no, no, I don’t smoke it no more, ( for a long time), tired of waking up on the floor.” So, I even have it figured out what I’ll say if it ever comes up, I don’t drink, because I drank, and I was really good at it for a while. Really, it was simply time to quit. I’ve quit before and it didn’t stick because I wasn’t ready yet. I never really liked drinking, but, I had some stuff that I was trying to drown and I didn’t realize that was it. It wasn’t too terribly difficult to quit either, I have to say, physically at least, about three weeks in kind of sucked, but, it would have been tougher had I gone on, if you see what I’m saying. It also felt kind of like a “Been there, done that” kind of a thing. There have been a few bad moments, re: that stuff I was trying to drown. That’s also why I went looking for my sarcasm and my sense of humor this morning. I mean, My GAWD, couldn’t we have a shiny happy people holding hands kind of a world thing going on right now? Instead of…

Then, too, as in, also, I kind of thought, Sobriety, The Final Frontier. It’s odd, like a drug of its own, like the next adventure, at this point. Let’s be really daring and see what the world looks like with the beer goggles off! I’ve wanted to be clean and sober for a long time now. I want be that person that gets up early, eats granola and like, Kashi cereals, and drinks more Smart Water than any other normal human, annoyingly healthy and well adjusted. That sounds like a lot of work, Teri.( also, me saying that I want to be that person, if I need or want help with that I will ask, at no point in time is my voicing a “want” an invitation to meddle. I could be being sarcastic. )

Here’s the thing, I love a good wallow now and then, and I’ve got a list of reasons as long as my leg not to want to get out of bed, some really bad, dark, tough, stuff, I mean, I don’t even know how I’m still on this planet. I’m not exaggerating. I’ve also got a list of reasons as long as my leg to pull myself up and get on with it, not the least of which is that I’m still here on this planet, there’s still breath in this body, this heart is still beating, and those reasons are way more important. Additionally, I probably have some research to do on another branch of a big tree, but that’s another story.

So, I’m trying to be all professional and keep it cool and reigned in but dammit, doesn’t this always happen? Or hasn’t it so far? Life is a learn as you go experience.

Things nobody wants to hear right now, but, gotta do something.


Every day starts at 100% potentially terrific. I didn’t get up early this morning. There’s tomorrow, you know?


Shakespeare, Darlings…

It’s Shakespeare darlings, try not to screw it up.

Several years ago I went on a trip with my husband and there was this guy walking around wearing a red and white t-shirt with a picture of Shakespeare on it and the caption read, “This shit writes itself.” For some reason at that very moment it struck me as being one of the most completely ridiculous things ever and I laughed until there were tears streaming down my face.

I’m taking something of a social web break at the moment, or really, I’m checking in on the web less  and getting some work done, or I’m trying to post less, or…well, really, who can quit this thing? Changing habits takes dedication and time, one step forward, etc. So I check in on the interwebs today and I see this meme…

and what I want to say is, Come on, people! Really? 

I will be the first to admit that I am not necessarily the most well read person, certainly not as authors go. I’ve read things that have crossed my path in one way or another along particular lines over the years and for many years, avoided reading some things because I wanted to learn how to write like “me” first, and other such thinking. That is to say that I’ve actually thought about what I was feeding my brain, and sometimes over-thought it. In fact, I’m generally flabbergasted by the number of books that some people have read, some, my husband among them. He’s read Don Quixote, and a list of other thick books that impress me and that I’ve got on my list of things that I’d like to read and plan to read and so on but I’m digressing, so before I completely derail this with why I like smart men and all of the real and true other reasons why I’m catching up on my reading, or why I got so far behind on it to begin with, let me get to the point and that is that you shouldn’t have to be a terribly well read person to know that Shakespeare didn’t write the quote that is written in that meme, that meme is “Things that Shakespeare didn’t say,” times a million.

This kind of thing is dangerous to the overall level of intellect of our society, of the world.

Oh come on, Teri, it’s just a silly meme.

Well, the thing is that, yes, it is just a silly meme, and one would hope that most people are smart enough to figure out that Shakespeare never said that. However, the fact that such a meme exists means that someone either thought that they were being funny, which is one thing, okay, or someone thought that Shakespeare really said it, or someone thought that they could pass it off that way, or someone had something that they wanted to say and thought that maybe it would get read more if they slapped Shakespeare’s name on it, which is kind of ironic if you know that there are those who believe, think, that perhaps Shakespeare was more than one author.

A little surfing around and it seems that part of the quote was appropriated from a poem by William Arthur Ward.

But also attributed to Hemingway.

Well, they’re all dead. Why does it matter if they are being misquoted or if those quotes are being attributed inaccurately?

Have you ever been accused of saying something that you didn’t say? Or had someone leave out part of what you said so that the meaning of what you actually said is either changed or eradicated?

Sometimes that stems from genuine confusion. Sometimes people aren’t listening to what was actually said. Sometimes, we call that lying. Sometimes we say, “Well, I don’t care what they say. I know what I said.” And it really doesn’t matter to us. Other times, it might matter quite a bit depending on the circumstances. It’s been my experience that most squabbles, fights, between most anyone could have been resolved with some honest communication between the parties. Sometimes there are other issues, ideological and so on, of course, but again, I’m digressing.

What about the fact that right there are three writers who could have said it, according to these memes that people randomly circulate generally without much consideration for the source, I post them too sometimes, and that that is someone’s work.

Do you think that it doesn’t matter whose work it really is? Because they are selling William Arthur Ward drinkware at Zazzle and for my money, twenty-eight bucks is a hefty price for a coffee cup. But what do I know, I buy coffee cups at thrift stores and would pay forty bucks for a set of KISS mugs if I could get my rationale for it right. ( not really, maybe, I don’t know… but something else though, something cool.)

So, that means it kind of matters to whom the work really belongs, especially to those looking for things to make a buck off of. Just ask Gene Simmons. Or Prince. Or Taylor Swift. Or Adele.

You see, the thing is that most people tend to think that societies, worlds, empires, are destroyed in a day, in one fell swoop, in one great battle, the bomb, but that really isn’t how it happens.

How it happens is that they, whoever they are, start taking pebbles away from the base of a mountain and everyone says, “Oh well, it’s just a few pebbles, don’t make such a big deal out of it. It’s harmless, who cares.”

And then this taking of a few pebbles from the base of a mountain becomes accepted practice or behavior and no one notices it anymore or thinks about it anymore or pays any attention to it anymore.

“What are they doing over there at the base of the mountain with those buckets?”

Destabilizing everything above it from the bottom.

About the time when someone realizes that that’s what is going on, is when the fighting to save whatever it is begins. Then there are the big battles and all of that stuff that people tend to think are what destroy whatever it is or was when really, it was all of the pebbles that were being taken away from the base for however long.

These silly memes and things like them, they’re pebbles, in a way, being taken away from the base of our intellect, of our smarts as a society, it’s a very subtle part of the dumbing-down of everything.

Well, why do you need to know who really said that? Why do you need to be able to ascertain the truth? Who cares, it’s just a silly meme!

In other words, that’s how societies get owned, one person at a time. It’s not the meme itself, that meme is just a symptom of a bigger thing that is going on, it’s just one of the pebbles.

So, are you paying attention? I mean, just ask yourself that question. I don’t expect to change anyone’s mind or even that a significant number of people will understand what I’m saying about this as something not to fight over,or argue about, but to understand. The main thing that got me about it was that they didn’t even put any effort into it. I mean, it’s supposed to be Shakespeare who said that, right?

I dare say unto you that it is incumbent upon the soul of man to be happy. Do you question as to the reasoning behind such thinking? Am I not always joyful? In my speech? In my manner? My mode of dress? My expectations from those around me are nil. I dare say that it would be unfair to expect anything of them, for it would hurt me so if they were to create these meme things hundreds of years after my death and slaughter the very language that I have made the means of my existence and with which I have chosen to leave my mark upon the world of literature, if not the very world itself. So by all means, love your life to the fullest and be joyful, I say unto you surrender to bliss at this very moment, for I assure you, I do, there are idiots about. Therefore prior to your speaking, listen for whom might be about behind some tapestry or velvet drapery with a bright dagger, or simply set to eavesdropping. Prior to setting quill to parchment or scroll, consider how it is that your words might be intercepted on the way to your love, or your accomplice, or the crown. Should you undertake to spend, consider whether or not your earnings will meet the debt or whether or not the proposed risk is worth the wager. If you discover that you feel that you must pray, consider forgiving your debtors. Prior to having any feelings of pain, contemplate whether not you are fit to have feelings and then feel those feelings at the first. Should you find that what you feel, after you have felt that you have feelings, is that the emotion of hate has found it’s way into your heart, I bid that you should love. For it is only love that is worthy of the possession of the heart, the passion of the mind, the obsession of the very soul, it is only love that saves us, that gives us reason beyond reasoning to wake and to rise when all else has perished, including the final embers of our spent anger that will only leave us in hollow exhaustion and unfulfilled in our regret, whereas it is love that replenishes the well within us moreover time and time spent again. Surrender not lest you have considered whether or not your surrender is a fitting strategy for later victory, for most assuredly a man of my proclivities for a good yarn could not recommend surrender were it not prerequisite for some greater turn of events later in the story. Lastly, you most certainly must live before you can die, the perpetuation of the sense of the common depends upon this most of all, my darlings, the very most of all.     ~ Sir Willi… no.
Perhaps this shit doth really write itself. 
Teri Skultety