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The Blackmail of David Letterman

Posted by: C.D. Reimer

Tagged in: writing , religion , media , events

Last night on the "Late Show," David Letterman told a story about finding a strange package in his car at 6:00AM three weeks ago, where someone wanted to produce a screenplay about "the terrible things" he had done in his life and would happily sell him the screenplay for $2 million USD.  After bringing his attorney and the district attorney's office into the mix, the man with the package was indicted and arrested for grand larceny.  Letterman than confessed he had sexual relations with female staffers over the years.  This was funny, sad and horrifying at the same time.   I'm somewhat familiar with the concept of being blackmailed by those who think they can take advantage of you.

Within the church I used to belong to, I had reputation that range from being "a sweet guy" to "a future California serial rapist."  The last remark came from a non-paid ministry worker—an unemployed patent attorney—who encouraged me to rape the woman who was giving me trouble so I could do everyone a favor by going to prison.  When I asked him to explain how the woman would feel about that, he said it would be a "small sacrifice on her part for the betterment of the Kingdom."  A few days after that, another unpaid ministry leader threaten to make public my emails concerning the situation.  You would think that non-paid ministry leaders would figured out that encouraging rape and trying to blackmail someone was wrong according to the Bible.  These two weren't that bright.

Unfortunately, a church culture can devolved into spiritual entrapments and witch hunts that makes this behavior perfectly acceptable.   (I was even accused of witchcraft and divination in my campus ministry days when I predicted what would happen to three jobless brothers if the brother who paid all the bills moves out of the household, and all my predictions came true when I moved out.)   Such a culture makes it difficult, if not impossible, for the paid ministry leaders to do what's right according to the Bible.  My only regret is that I never got an attorney to put the fear of God into everyone.  I had to endure four months of possibly illegal surveillance by the non-paid ministry to prove my innocence until the woman who caused me trouble was caught making a false accusation against me and formally rebuked for her behavior.

As for the emails, I threatened to post them on my website and send out the link to everyone with a note that it was the ministry leader's idea.  Who has the most to loose with the publication of these emails?  Not me.  The blackmail attempt was quickly forgotten.  When later ministry leaders hinted that were saving my emails, I again offered to publish all those emails on my website and send out a link to everyone in their name.   Their response was always the same that they had no intention of blackmailing me.  If so, why warn me you're saving my emails if you weren't trying to gain an unfair advantage over me?

When I was working at Accolade/Infogrames/Atari (same company, different owners, multiple identity crises), there was an email list called the "chum bucket" for off color jokes and web links.  I bailed out of this email list after a few weeks when the supervisors started calling each other and everyone else who disagreed with them "douche bags" or worst.   The email list survived for several more years until there was an incident involving me that forced HR finally shut it down for fear of a lawsuit.

A co-worker sent anonymous emails to the list that were critical, negative and mean-spirited about me.  This wasn't blackmail as far I could tell but more like slander.  When the co-worker stepped forward to apologize and his supervisor talked to me about the situation, I had no clue what they were talking about.  At the time, I was a lead tester working sixty hours a week with a project ready to go out the door, attending church and teaching children ministry classes on Sundays, and taking two programming classes at San Jose City College.  Anything outside of my immediate focus I was too busy to care about.  When I later ran into the co-worker at a bus stop, he thanked me for being the only the lead tester who said anything nice about his friend, a female tester who I thought needed additional training but was let go by the company, and he admitted he was wrong about my character.  I never did find out what his motivation was against me.

I believe that a writer should stand behind everything he or she writes, whether in private and in public.  That includes the good, the bad and the ugly.  After all, if I get famous enough after I kick the bucket, someone will edit and publish a book of selected letters, emails and stupid rants that I had written.  A generation of tormented college students will write their dissertations on why neuroses represented early twenty-first century American literature.  If someone wants to pass a moral judgment on me whether I'm dead or alive, there's really nothing I can do to stop them.  If they want to use my own writing against me in sinster way, why not let the whole world judge me and my blackmailer?

Besides, all these incidents in my life are grist for my writing mill.  I'm currently revising the rough draft of my first novel that is based on my six years as a video game tester, trying very hard not to let it be a roman à clef novel since I'm not settling old scores but writing a unique story that hasn't been told.   My planned third novel will probably revolve around the church incidents above, and I had written several stories around other related incidents.   A short-short story, "The Forgotten Sinner," was accepted this week and slated for publication in Conceit Magazine (December 2009), is about an old man waiting to get right with God because his minister never called him back.

If someone wants to blackmail me, they can try.  But, like the David Letterman case, they should fear public exposure more than I would.


The Big Four-Oh Whatever

Posted by: C.D. Reimer

Tagged in: writing , events

The last two weeks been the week before and the week after my birthday (August 7th) where I been in deep thought—very dangerous but the planet didn't explode—trying to answer the one essential question in life: What does the big four-oh really mean?  The answer: Not a whole lot.

Physically, I don't feel all that different.  Still working out at the gym and eating less to lose weight (lost  ten pounds over the last month).  I have  a compulsive desire to remain clean shaven.  I'm now shaving every day since shaving every other day wasn't cutting it anymore.  I still miss my Amish beard from a few years ago.  Emotionally, I'm still melancholy as usual when contemplating my past and my future.  All of which is tied to my work as a writer rather than growing older.

The rough draft of my first novel is on ice until I start editing in October.  The rough draft of my second novel is floundering at the one-third mark (middles are so exciting), and may be abandon when the time comes.  Other projects are dying on the back burner.  Being unemployed for six months is creating a lot of uncertainty with some days being like this or like that, and that's affecting my ability to write.  (No, it's not writer's block; I can still write myself out of a paper bag if I can find the cattle prod.)  If I was writing full time, I would be doing a very poor job indeed.

The worst part is all my short stories and poems (40 pieces) are still circulating in the slush piles, and I'm on pins-and-needles waiting for a response.  August can be a cruel month for waiting for something—anything—to arrive by mail or email.  Everyone in the publishing world is on vacation.

The next year will require a lot of hard work as I finish two novels and a short story collection before I look for an agent.  When that happens, I'll be working on my third novel and waiting for an agent to tell me that I won the publishers sweepstakes.

The Bikini Job Market

Posted by: C.D. Reimer

Tagged in: events

Craigslist Bikini Ad for WWDC 2009

If you're been paying attention to Mac-related websites over the past few days, then you would know about this Craigslist advertisement for bikini models to appear at the Worldwide Developer Conference (WWDC) to promote the iPhone.  I told my friend that I found us the perfect job ($100 per hour) since we're both looking for work.

We might have some trouble filling out certain job requirements, however.

When we went to the WonderCon 2009, we saw a bunch of guys dressed up as Dr. Manhattan from Watchmen in blue body paint, wearing Speedos and sandals while walking around the exhibit floor.  One guy was a spitting image, the others was less spitting.  I suggested since we're in San Francisco, we could get some blue body paint, walk around naked, and no one would notice.  (For normal naked people wandering around the streets, you will need to travel across the bay to Berkeley.)  Except we didn't have the tall, thin and muscular physique that the Dr. Manhattan character requires.  We would more than likely be mistaken for a pair of naked Smurfs and be beaten to death by all the Star Wars stormtroopers and bounty hunters running around the place.

On  a related note, if you want to see a bunch of naked nerds in a gay motorcycle bar or Kristen Bell in a Princess Leia slave girl bikini, the hilarious Fanboys DVD is out now.


Breaking Dawn At Borders

Posted by: C.D. Reimer

Tagged in: writing , movies , events , books

Last week I was hanging out with my friend in Borders at Santana Row after seeing The Mummy: Tomb of The Dragon Emperor (the best straight-to-DVD release movie I ever saw in a movie theater), I noticed that the entire store was filled with young girls.  Most appeared normal, some had faces painted white with red lips, and a few wore bizarre costumes.  I asked my friend if they were there for The Tales of Beedle The Bard pre-order by the Harry Potter author, J.K. Rowling, which I saw mentioned in an email from Borders a few days earlier.  He said they were here for the Breaking Dawn midnight release party.  Never heard of it.  When we came upon the display stand, it was quite obvious why I haven't heard of it.  The book comes from the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer belongs in the ever popular paranormal romance genre.

Seems like you can't be a female author writing a series book unless you take a standard genre (i.e., science fiction, fantasy or horror), add a dollop of romance, and blend well into a new genre.  (Male authors don't face the same pressure, but some do add a tarball of porn that leaves the story dying on the bedsheets,  and no marketing department would dare claim that as a new genre.)  If Amazon Recommendations are any indicator over the last few years, the paranormal romance genre is getting saturated with wannabe titles that lacks any trace of originality like a bad date with a vampire.

I'm a fan of Kim Harrison's The Hollow series about a witch, a vampire and a pixy working together as independent bounty hunters in Cincinnati, and the titles are inspired by Clint Eastwood and Spaghetti Western movies (i.e., Every Which Way But Dead, and The Good, The Bad and The Undead).  There's a strong touch of sexuality that goes either way depending on who's in trouble.  I just speed read through those parts since that's not what I'm reading the book for.  I got into this series while reading another supernatural mystery series, Jim Butcher's Dresden Files, about a wizard for hire in Chicago.  According to Amazon Recommendations, The Hollow series now belongs in the paranomral romance genre, perhaps because the author has written several anthologies where paranormal romance was the main theme..  I get recommendations about every paranormal series out there—with some series being way, way, way out there—even though I'm not interested.  Subsequently, I run away from those books like a vampire waking up at the Gilroy Garlic Festival.

The Twilight series was illuminating for another reason.  Not because the series is seen as a potential successor to the Harry Potter franchise that can capture the hearts of teenyboppers world wide that makes bucket loads of cash for the author and publisher.  The general trend in fiction publishing is to have a series if you're not writing "serious literature" (whatever the heck that is since I don't write that).  If you're bringing a series to a conclusion (this applies to trilogies as well), you better wrapped up the series in way that keeps the readers satisfied.  The initial reaction to Breaking Dawn indicates that the author may have taken the easy way out that puts a stake through the heart of the conflict, disappointing many fans who expected a stronger ending.  A bad enough ending can easily kill the word-of-mouth popularity for the other books in the series, including the forthcoming Twilight The Movie.

I'm not sure if a one-shot book can be published these days.  The novel that I'm working on, and the research materials I'm gathering for two other novels, all follow a general theme of humanity, morality and technology, and each one is a one-shot book that isn't part of a series.  (I suspect a minor character from one book will become a major character in another book may be the only connection.)  The vampire novella that I'm working on now is the centerpiece for a pair of book trilogies.  Those books—if I choose to write them—will be different than the novels I got on the back burners.   If I ever end up writing a book series, I doubt it will be in the paranormal romance genre.


My friend and I this past Saturday went to the Bruce Springsteen concert at the HP Pavilion in San Jose.  This was my first "full on" rock concert.   I went to a Steely Dan concert at the Shoreline Amphitreate in Mountain View last year, but sitting on the back lawn isn't the same thing as being down in the mosh pit 20 feet from the stage.   This was also my first broad exposure to Bruce Springsteen since the only song I'm familiar with was "Born In The USA" in 1984 when I was a teenage Reagan Democrat.

We got there three hours before the show started to get the pink wrist band for the mosh pit.  The number on my wrist band was 666—an interesting number.  What made it more interesting after we got our green wrist bands and lined up to enter the building was two men standing on the sidewalk out in front, one wearing a sandwich board that proclaims "JESUS SAVES YOU FROM HELL" and another with a bullhorn reassuring us that we were all going to hell (but not because we were attending a rock concert).  The only thing that they managed to do was annoyed everyone in hearing range and prompted some people put in their ear plugs sooner.  After haranguing us for 20 minutes, they moved 30 feet down the sidewalk to annoy the people in line back there.  I seriously doubt security would nab these two if they stepped off of the sidewalk (protected speech) on to city property (trespassing).  The SJPD traffic officers were more interested in the taxi drivers who decide to stop wherever they please.   Once the doors were opened, it was an orderly mad rush to the mosh pit.

I wasn't there to just enjoy the music.  Being a writer, I was there to observe my surroundings and people . Never know when some of this will end up in a story or novel.

  • My first impression of the HP Pavilion (previously known as the San Jose Arena and should've been named the Epicenter after a San Jose Mercury News poll) was that it's awfully small, and the interior layout doesn't seem to match the exterior layout.   I think the arena is an oval placed in the corners of a square, but I couldn't find a floor map at concierge desk to double check.  I expected the interior to look as impressive as the exterior for the $100 million USD that the city spent.  Of course, this was the same city council that dropped $500,000 USD on an Aztec snake god statue that looks like a giant pile of dog poop.
  • I was intrigued to see a group of roadies climbed up rope ladders to get into the lighting framework over the stage to control the spotlights. You would think that those spotlights—like most of the others—could be controlled by computers on the floor.
  • Women drinking alcohol lost all inhibitions when dancing, flirting and screaming.  One woman rubbed her butt against me for two minutes before she realized that her boyfriend went to the restroom.
  • Whenever the lights went dark, someone lit up a joint and exhaling smoke that visibly lingered over the mosh pit.  I was sick with allergies the next day.
  • The eeriest moment came when the lights went out and a thousand points of lit cellphones being waved back and forth.
  • A pair of older couples cleared the floor around them when they started dancing with high kicks during the last song.
  • Although I stood next to my friend for most of the concert, I found myself behind him four rows back at the end.
  • When you been standing for five hours straight, it hurts to walk. Worst than having a swollen bladder after a three hour movie.

Bruce was had a great time singing, playing his guitars (just about every song required a different guitar) or harmonica, and taking requests from the audience.  The most memorable moment was when Bruce pulled up a guy from the audience who had the song title "Glory Days" written on his bald forehead with a permanent marker, and that song alone nearly blew the roof off the place.  Another moment was when Bruce pulled a sign from the audience that said, "Bruce, You're my real Dad!", and he admitted that he was here in these parts back in 1969.

(Come to think of it, *I* was born in 1969. Hmm... Nah... I could never grow a soul patch like his.)

This week I'll be seeing "Shine A Light" at the movie treater about the elders of rock and roll, The Rolling Stones.  It's amazing how these old rockers are still rocking on.


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