Friday, April 08, 2005

The Hermaphrodite Who Has to Sit Outside

I amused Franzese, I think. Late last quarter, he proposed a joint venture for the Nexus comics page. He'd do the art, I'd write the script. I liked this, and even though the idea may have sprung out of a moment of hazy stoniness on his part, I didn't let him forget it. I really wanted to do it, but I unfortunately couldn't think of a single good idea. All the everything else going on — finals, the talk of talks, the concussion — have kept me from thinking about what I want to think about. Beyond that, the novella drained me of any creative energy. (The novella, by the way, has hardly changed form its original state. I can't bring myself to look at it since the quarter ended.)

So I was thrilled when a quick trip to the UCen bookstore yesterday somehow bore three separate ideas for a Dave-Drew venture. These are those three ideas, more or less how I presented them:
"Okay. This is an idea that begins with a funny title. I haven't thought through a plot yet, but just think what could come out of The Hermaphrodite Who Had to Sit Outside. You know, because I'd imagine if you were a hermaphrodite, you'd be asked to sit outside quite often."
It didn't grab him.
"Okay. This works in my mind as a single panel cartoon, but I still think it's really funny. You know those t-shirts that say "Someone at UCSB Loves Me"? Picture someone wearing one of them, only their dead and slumped in a gutter or something."
It didn't grab him.
"Okay. Something that always struck me as funny is a guy walking into his house or apartment or whatever and being savagely attacked by his furniture. Like, everything in his house in animate and just goes at him. What I can picture most clearly is a chest of drawers popping out the one draw that's at eye level repeatedly, hitting the guy in the face. And this all happens because objects we think are lifeless actually can think and feel and they deeply resent being used and abused by humans."
He went for it.

So now I'm working on thinking up situations in which this might be funny. I don't think it will be a linear story, so much as a series of vignettes dealing the uprising of objects. So far I have the following plots to work with:
  • Man brings new toilet home. Toilet does not realize he's a toilet. Other furniture explains the deal and the toilet becomes angry and sad.
  • For soda vending machines, producing a single can is a painful process not unlike childbirth. On top of this, the a machine must suffer the indignity of watching humans tear open her children's heads and drinking their blood right in front of her. This is why soda machines can be so finicky about accepting coins.
Big things, people. I promise big things — and then I deliver.

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