Anyone who saw my status updates last night knows that I suffered through a viewing of New Moon, and I came away from it feeling rather depressed about my own career.  That was one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen, and from the little bit of the books I’ve read, the writing in the series isn’t any better.  Yet that writer and a couple of generations of her offspring are financially set for life.  The director, cinematographer, special effects coordinator, and most everyone else associated with it are at the very least set in their careers.  If nothing else, they can make their rounds on the Con circuit and earn a fortune off of memorabilia.

But the movie, from beginning to end, was really, really, really bad.

I’m a storyteller, so that’s one of the first things I look for in anything I read or watch — does the plot maintain integrity throughout?  I’m not going to re-watch it to find all of the inconsistencies in the story, but on first viewing, there were many and they were glaring.  I also appreciate good acting, and one or two of the kids did decent jobs, but overall, the acting was terrible.  Of course, the dialogue was so poorly written that Kevin Spacey and Anthony Hopkins would’ve had difficult times making it sound realistic.

I know I’m not the first struggling artist to lament the decline of Western culture, but my god.  How have so many people been suckered into thinking that this is good by any standards?  Have we been that dumbed down in the last 20 years?  Was I wrong to think that plot structure and coherence actually matter?  It’s really disheartening for someone like me who has spent 37 years trying to master a craft but getting very little return for my efforts to see such a pile of horse manure make so much fucking money.  Earning a decent living would be enough for me, but while that pile of crap makes a fortune, I can’t seem to turn the corner.

I know this has been pretty negative, and I know I shouldn’t begrudge others their success.  I’m sure the author, whatever the hell her name is, poured all of her heart and soul into creating these books.  I know how hard that process is, and bless her for finding success in the world.  Maybe I need to find a way to make dwarves sparkle like rubies to catch the attention of this generation.  I truly fear where we’ll be in another 20 years.

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I’d like to take a moment to congratulate John Calipari for his monumental under-achievement at Kentucky this season.  Coach Slime-Trail bolted from my beloved University of Memphis for Big Blue, accepting a $32 million dollar contract and taking the nation’s number one recruiting class with him.  He left behind NCAA sanctions and vacated victories, not to mention a feeling like we’d just spent nine years of our lives doting on a two-bit whore, but I digress.

Kentucky hailed him as the second coming of Adolph Rupp, or maybe the second coming of Rick Pitino.  In either case, he was supposed to be the savior of Kentucky basketball, and all season, I listened quietly to the smugness of Wildcat fans.  With their newfound leader and dynamic freshmen, they strutted with a boldness not seen in many years.  As victory after victory piled up, their chests swelled and their boasts became more bold.  No one could stop them.

Well, except their savior.  When coach slime-trail got against equal competition, his coaching deficiencies rose to the surface as they always have.  Like any other two-bit whore, he’s great at seduction but short on substance.  He has the guile to lure in the recruits and just enough coaching skill to get them on the right course, but when he faces equal talent in pressure situations, he is not tactician enough to adapt mid-game.  If his players’ talent is not enough to win, he is doomed.

So congratulations, Kentucky.  After how you treated Tubby Smith, you got the man you deserve for the job.  I hope it’s a long-lasting marriage that repeats this year’s outcome over and over, and thank you for freeing Memphis from the ungrateful whore.  Much like Tennessee’s football program, in the long-run we will be much better off without the fast-talking, sleazy coach who plays fast and loose with the rules.

Go Tigers!

I’m at a serious crossroads in my life.  As our education system implodes, I find it increasingly difficult to motivate myself to challenge my students.  Their apathy for their own education has drained me of the passion and energy I once carried into the classroom.  The endless tunnel of bureaucracy burrowed by the administrators and bean counters has become such a hindrance to our mission as educators that many of us want to throw up our hands and walk away.  If a major publisher or a Hollywood executive came calling right now, I would not hesitate to jump ship.

If only it were that simple.  If only I could walk out the doors and start a new career tomorrow, one that would nourish my creative side and provide for my children at the same time.  I did it once, walked away from education and started a new career.  I went into sales, and after washing out in the insurance business, I was actually quite good in the car business and even better in timeshare.  Then, the economy tanked and the money dried up.  I saw the writing on the wall that my child support wasn’t going to get paid if I didn’t find a secure job, so I went back to education.

This time, I feel trapped.  The blade of child support dangles just over my neck, and the ex has proven that she will hound me ceaselessly and use the full extent of the law to punish me if I cannot make the payments.  It’s not that I don’t want to provide for my kids.  If I could verify that every penny of the money is spent on them, I wouldn’t resent it at all, but something tells me that it’s being funneled to other expenses that have little to do with the direct needs of my sons.  That’s only a suspicion, though.  The only facts I know are the amount I owe each month and her greed at collecting it.  When it comes to compassion and understanding, let’s just say that she has been found wanting.

So I need to make a change, but I’m lost as to where to begin.  I have to have steady income, and I need to use my creative skills.  There are a handful of ideas I keep kicking around, but they are all risky long-shots.  One thing is absolutely certain — a change must be made.  This generation is too passive, too apathetic, and too unread.  They have no sense of history beyond what’s on Facebook and no sense of the importance of language.  Give them the quick answer, the microwavable meal, the convenience store service.  Anything beyond that is too complex.

I will find my way, and I will do it on my terms.

www.thirdaxe.com