Slate

"And though I'm no Olivier / If he fought Sugar Ray / He would say / That the thing ain't the ring, it's the play. / So give me a... stage / Where this bull here can rage / And though I could fight / I'd much rather recite /... that's entertainment."
-Raging Bull

In early April, after a month of feeling miserable and thinking I was going to have a heart attack every time I walked up a flight of stairs, I finally broke down and went to a doctor. I've always been an amatuer hypochondriac, but I was losing sleep over the littany of health problems I was worried about having. After hooking me up to an EKG, taking my blood, and listening to my lungs (which even after 13 years of smoking, the doctor assured me were "as clear as a bell"), two separate doctors confirmed it was all in my head. They diagnosed me with having generalized anxiety disorder and depression. I've always believed that only boring people don't have some level of mental problems so I was a bit flattered. I think I was just getting bent out of shape being worried about what other people had and what I thought I deserved. I kept catching myself in the middle of conversations where I was desperately trying to sound like things were going better than they really were. It's like lying on a resume. Well, it was making me ill. It wasn't cigarettes, booze, red meat or pills that were wrecking my body. It was the serial name dropping and phoniness that pollute this whole sideshow and stop it from ever being an art. I've tried my hardest to apologize to people I've blown it with. I think the more sadistic of them enjoyed my prostrating. I'm writing off the last year because if I dwelled on it, I'd just get worse. I finished the first 32 pages of "Dysphonia" Thursday morning. It's going to be a feature length rape-revenge horror script. I've been watching as much Cronenberg and Argento as I can get my hands on as well as listening to Metallica's "Master of Puppets" to get in the mood. It's been rewarding to work on and I think it will be something special once it's finished. The teaser poster is below. Getting back in the habit of writing every day is tricky and it's easy to get derailed after a string of late nights and afternoon wakeups.

Also, welterwieght boxer Arturo Gatti was found dead yesterday. If you are unfamiliar with him, get familiar quick by watching some highlights from his trilogy of fights with "Irish" Mickey Ward. He was 37 and foul play is suspected.

Watched: El Orfanato
-Paul