The Best Opening Credits Sequence Walk

Here's Val Kilmer in that delicately poised stage before he entered 'permanent chubby mode' and started knocking out stinkers. Everything about him in this, like the conditions on Earth for life, is just right: the briefcase, the mac, the slick hair, the beard (especially the beard), the walk (notice how his legs actually speed up into the path of the oncoming car), and last but certainly never not least the music. What this makes is a kick-ass opening sequence with nowt but bare essentials – a long unbroken shot of a man walking into a park.

So, how do you make a guy walking into a park look and feel great on screen? Well, you give Val a positively smoking look about him and cue those aggressive strings with a heavy beat, that's how. Note the snazzy camera action on the pan and zoom-out from his face when he almost gets nearly run over on purpose. He has the aura of a soul with an agenda, the attitude of someone on the edge. I was rooting for him at the end, let me tell'ya. He was in a tight situation, holed up in a bright sunny park waiting around for the phone to ring. By the time he made a break for it he'd been shot, with cops and dealers on his tail and his beautiful ex-wife waiting for him outside the open door of her car so they could make a promising future afresh together. It was nip and tuck if he would make it or not he was spilling so much money and blood. I'd never wanted anyone to get into a car so much. It was a tense and uplifting finale, I mean I was really like rooting for him, and for this reason, alongside some touching split-screen make-up calls with his estranged daughter (half the movie is telephone calls), I award Columbus Day 8.4 out of 10.

Our Val hasn't made a sterling performance like this since he played an altar ego mirror reflection assuming the form of Elvis Presley in True Romance (1996). Back then he uttered the immortal words, while pointing and clicking his fingers, “I like you, Clarence. Always have, always will.”

The Tailypo

All these writers be like I WROTE MY FIRST BOOK IN THE WOMB. You feel me? I’ll be honest. I haven’t got a clue how old I was when I wrote my first book.  It was in junior school. That’s all I know. Ergo, before senior school. Senior school is generally 11-16 years of age. Ergo, let’s say ten. Maybe, I hope, just maybe, 9. Who knows? The one thing I DO know is that it wasn’t my own book. It was somebody else’s!

Yup, that’s right homies and folks, I performed plagiarism with a pen. Having this book in my home from the junior library was like having a Christmas gift before knowing what Christmas was. THE TAILYPO was a children’s book. I can’t remember reading it in school: I remember copying it out word for word at home in the cubbyhole, so I could keep the story for myself. Life is all about keeping things, no?

THE TAILYPO is a spooky tale about a creature crawling up inside somebody’s bed.  

My first original story belonging to me was entitled THE JOGGER. It was a page long, and copied/inspired from a TV show. I remember that clearly, yes sir. To this day, I have the idea of a story entitled BIG MAN JOGGING. It would be about a big man jogging, but you don’t see him until the end. Until then, for maybe an hour (if it was on the screen), you hear news reports and eye witness accounts from various people who have spotted him. It is all a big build up. A media frenzy, filmed like an episode of Neighbours. When he arrives, the camera does weird tricks to announce his presence: fast double zooms, special effects, music—filmed like The Matrix. It becomes a totally different movie. He bursts onto the scene knocking down a lamppost or something. He’s like the hulk, but a normal jogger. Bam! And nothing can stop him jogging.

Aged 26 I wrote A Short (1200 words) named GABRIEL AND THE PASSING FOX. It was inspired by an encounter with a real fox in the suburbs of outer Liverpool. This story was a direct homage to The Tailypo, except the fox was so big it filled the entire house, big bushy tail swinging out through the front door. I thought it was great, but a short story judge said she didn’t have a clue what was going on, underlining the word clue. It has since been touched up and printed in the KICKERS anthology, renamed FOXY GABE, which is proper flash fiction by the way. Nobody taught me how to do flash. The spirit of it came naturally. The only downside to flash pieces is that you need collections to group them in!  

Book, Done

They say that in your thirties people start dying and you become obsessed about cancer. As Coach once said, from the show Coach, “You work hard, you come home, you walk in...and everybody's dead.” Mortality calls are warnings in disguises. I know that if this hour proved to be my last hour, one of my regrets would be not distributing more books. There is a crucial difference between writing books and getting read. My prose, I feel, is more or less done. Not quite done, never quite done done, but more or less, at least short term.

It's more about poetry now. Concise intervention rules the day. Less words, more meaning.  I'm getting more books out there, gradually. The process is underway. A writer in circulation is like a swimmer in water, but as yet, in my case, I'm still holding onto the side doing a doggy paddle, with inflatable armbands to boot, a gazillion miles from the deep end, giving out freebies to people on the sidelines in the hope of garnering interest. Gotta start somewhere, I suppose. 

Life has been, well, let's say challenging lately. That big old chestnut 'The Past' has bit me on the backside. In Samsara you're just as likely, if not more so, to learn from your failures. Still, it's nice to announce that the novel Escaping Hazel was completed 3 years and 9 months after its conception. That's a long gestation period. In the end it was a case of sprinting to the finish line then collapsing over it.  Aside from a reread and a second draft, all is done. No rush like - the longer the break in between, the better, although there is a slight urgency creeping in to get it in printed form asap. I'm praying it'll be weeks rather than months. The third draft won't begin until it's in a three volume chapbook 1^st edition.

Since seeing T.D Edge's title, System, Dragon, Spirit, I'm giving thought to changing EH into Hologram, Alien, Ghost. Might have to run it by him, first. It's growing on me, and those are the central themes. EH is almost as old as the last world cup. The original anticipated title was Muddy Angel, Dark Domain, a short story testimony of 6000 words. Now it's become a classic, and I did it. Or rather, it passed through me. Hallelujah. Looking forward to reworking it. Should I refer to the Pastor as the Pastor or Pastor Bruce Senior? Upper or lowercase? There are two dozen similar notes and checks like that. Let's crack on with 'em then...

(When I'm ready, of course. Let's say over summer.)   

Blog Service

normal blog service resuming shorty...

Konrath's Writer To-Do List

J A Konrath is one of thee top Heavyweight Ebook sellers, inspiring me and thousands of others to chance Kindle Direct Publishing. In hindsight, maybe he does not exist, and is merely a lure to entice manuscripts for Amazon, who can unpublish your work and make blockbusters with it when you're dead.

I will start/finish the damn book

I will always have at least three stories on submission, while working on a fourth 

I will attend at least one writer's conference, and introduce myself to agents, editors, and other writers  

I will subscribe to the magazines I submit to  

I will join a critique group. If one doesn't exist, I will start one at the local bookstore or library  

I will finish every story I start  

I will listen to criticism  

I will create/update my website 

I will master the query process and search for an agent  

I'll quit procrastinating in the form of research, outlines, synopses, taking classes, reading how-to books, talking about writing, and actually write something  

I will refuse to get discouraged, because I know JA Konrath wrote 9 novels, received almost 500 rejections, and penned over 1 million words before he sold a thing--and I'm a lot more talented than that guy

I will keep my website updated  
I will keep up with my blog and social networks  

I will schedule bookstore signings, and while at the bookstore I'll meet and greet the customers rather than sit dejected in the corner  

I will send out a newsletter, emphasizing what I have to offer rather than what I have for sale, and I won't send out more than four a year  

I will learn to speak in public, even if I think I already know how  

I will make selling my books my responsibility, not my publisher's  

I will stay in touch with my fans 

I will contact local libraries, and tell them I'm available for speaking engagements  

I will attend as many writing conferences as I can afford  

I will spend a large portion of my advance on self-promotion  

I will help out other writers  

I will not get jealous, will never compare myself to my peers, and will cleanse my soul of envy 

I will be accessible, amiable, and enthusiastic  

I will do one thing every day to self-promote  

I will always remember where I came from

Truth About Orphan Black

The same day I completed the main twist in a recent novel the whole file mysteriously disappeared from my online personal PC computer. The rescued document was page after nonsensical page of Latin symbols. If it had not been backed up on an external device, a helluva lot of book would have been like see ya later. As it was the loss was reduced to only a single morning. Not ideal, but a relief. That was almost a hat-trick of ‘losing’ books. Surely no author can be so unlucky!

Sorry, but the similarities between Orphan Black and some of my own content are 2 coincidental. I saw the first thumbnail for it on a torrent site soon after I nearly lost all that data. I’d never even heard of BBC America before until this. Hmm. Am I bothered? Well, the first time I was, years ago. This is at least the third time. Ask yourself this then: What is more likely, a nobody writer from Nowhere Street pitching his ideas to a Hollywood producer and making it big out of the blue, or organised cyber crime guys remotely fishing files? What happens more frequently on a daily basis, I wonder? No worries. The turnaround works both ways. It’s give and take. Wise up cockers. Bin that modem.

I missed the first and last episodes. Although very impressive, it was not soulful enough to make me care all too much. I could tell some of it came from me because I didn’t have the foggiest what was going on. You think I’m joking, don’t you? If you are, then you is correct, because part of me actually is; and if you aren’t, then you is correct, because part of me actually ain’t. 

Once More Into The End of The Grey

In 28 Days Later, as the main character is forced by gunpoint into the woods to be dispatched, a moving soundtrack makes it a memorable standout scene. The music is a classic orchestral number with the word Requiem in the title. It fit perfectly, but it was also used out of context in Mean Machine, starring Vinny 'grab ya balls' Jones and Jason 'dropkick ya in da face' Statham, who between them managed to hoof half a dozen shades of hell’s bells out of their opposing footy-playing cons. Nice movie, and a top cast, but please, don’t go having the same music from 28 Days Later! Sometimes the movie you think is stealing music was actually made before the movie you think has been stolen from, but that’s beside the point, because everyone is stealing. The point is CONTEXT.

Ink, like 28 Days Later, has, at some time or other, occupied the Number 1 film spot here at Anvil Samsara, and the music from that too has also been ripped off, this time in The Grey. It’s called The City Surf by Jamin Winans. But you know what, it’s getting let off. Yeah that’s right, let off, because it works just as good, if not better, as it did in Ink, so pardon granted. A fight to the death, man gegen beast? Name a better context than that. And here’s the thing about spoilers, before y’all complain: Sometimes they make you watch a movie you otherwise would have swerved, and sometimes, in the time it takes getting around to watching it, you’ve forgotten the details of the spoiler anyway. Somebody gave away the ending to Black Swan, but guess who still wants to watch it. Simply knowing the director or seeing the cover is a spoiler of sorts. That’s why the independent hit Ink had maximum movie impact - everything about it was fresh and unknown.

The Grey was nothing special, up until the end, but as you may well know by now, it’s ALL ABOUT the end. It’s gotta be said that with this music, and with the poetic reflection going on, The Grey leaves its mark. Forget the rest of it. Let’s talk, instead, if you don’t mind, about the final killer twist in Ink. Aw man oh man oh man. It doesn’t matter if you figure it out first, or if you watch it a second or third time, because it GETS HIM every time. He’s NEVER going to figure it out. Talk about thunderclap moments!Have a butchers at him. The expression on his face! You feel for him so much. And his response? Aw man. Let’s just say he gets STUCK IN, and leave it there.

Don’t forget, it’s almost that time of year again. Yup, The Hobbit. It’s got us intrigued enough about the dragon that we’re all willing to be blagged by noobs for three hours. And apparently, according to the radio, the new Hunger Games is the movie ‘the whole world’ has been waiting for. Erm, okay, yeah, sure, whatever ya reckon.

Realising, in Purgatory, that you left the iron on

Honesty Policy

Dominoes recently delivered flyers through the door advertising their pizzas at, open and close quotes, "Crazy Prices". At last, a company who doesn't lie to us. You have to admire their honesty. In these dog-eat-dog capitalist times, this is honorable to the bone.

Textbook Politics

When somebody tried doing this to Sean Penn in The Assassination of Richard Nixon (2004) he got blasted in the head at point blank range. Lesson learned: When a cheesed-off Penn tells you to fly a plane into the White House (and fly it low), then you better bloody well do it. GET OUT OF MY WAY! GET OUT OF MY WAY! I'VE GOT A BULLET AND I'LL SHOOT YA I'LL KILL YA!

When you're talking about burn-the-world cob ons, he really does give Michael 'goddamn' Douglas a good run for his money.

Jason Manford - Toilet Hygiene

Rich Piana - Mr California

IS THIS GUY THE BEST?

There’s not been a crazy bodybuilder feature here since Gregg Valentino or Zack King Khan but this guy raises the bar among even this esteemed company. He has more than his fair share of web haters who highlight his use of synthol (essentially an oily implant solution you inject into specific muscle fibres for increases in size). As you can imagine, many see this as cheating, and to be honest, due to its controversy, the blog hesitates to even mention it. It is named only because (a) cosmetic enhancement is a fascinating subject in its own right and (b) Rich openly discusses his performance enhancer use on camera, which is as rare in the sport of bodybuilding as rocking horse shite.

We know they all do it but only he admits it so a man has gotta owe him fat respect for that alone.

Let’s forget all those trim dieters weighing their egg whites for a perfectly balanced physique. This in a sense is what true bodybuilding was meant to be like: Morphing into a Mutant. Leaving humanity behind. You wanna be an average package with the same old boring predictable look, or you wanna be a freaky monster? Take the Incredible Hulk. You think he would win a contest if the stage could hold him? He’d come dead last. But whose name would the crowd be calling? Hulllk, Hulllk, Hulllk…

Drugs are only another optional piece of the jigsaw to maximise your natural genetics and hard work. In Rich’s case, I reckon, the final part, after many years taking care of everything else. Imagine sweating your ass off to build a house then having to put up with derision just because you added an extension not to everyone’s taste. And all the while the name callers have barely built anything themselves. The main word beginning with D here is dedication. Negativity is estranged from commitment and consistency.  This is what choosing a path and following it looks like.

Hey, make your own mind up about him. All I can vouch for personally is that this guy got my mate lifting weights again. That’s the bottom line. One look at Rich 'Mr California' Piana enjoying his bodybuilding life and his cosy little lazy layoff was over. He ate some toast and jogged straight the gym in his jeans. The good news is that we can all be Rich Piana in our own way. How? Well, by looking different to everybody else. By keeping freak in mind. And for those of you who may be wondering, freak is an endearing term in the muscle community.

This video is a marriage of inspiration. Not only are they bringing a true freakazoid to our screens, but they are doing so by the expertise of Alex Ardenti and Mustafa Yazicioglu. Alex is a rare master of motion with the lens and Mustafa’s grungy on-your-feet piano speaks of funk and dance, a genuine breath of stylish fresh air. Let’s celebrate a fusion of talents in their own right and revere this marvellous mixture of muscle and music.

a schmoe feature
* FREAKY BICEPS BABY *