Monday, October 08, 2007

Suffice to say, after almost two and a half years of no posts this blog is officially on "indefinite hiatus". ;)

For those of you still interested in readin' things written by The Coc, feel free to head over to my new blog at and see what I've been working on these past couple years. No, not the blog... namely, screenwriting and lore heavy games.

See you there!


Wednesday, June 15, 2005

For the love of God. Yield doesn't mean stop.

I'm convinced that from the time we're born we're each given a limited amount of patience of each individual thing we experience throughout our lives.

Nothing gets my blood boiling more than dopes who stop at yield signs.

Does everyone know what yield means? It means the other dude has the right of way.

Does it mean stop? No. That's why we have stop signs. If they wanted you to stop they would have said so with a big red octogon with the word "STOP" on it.

So why does this tick me off? Afterall, how many yield signs are out there? Who cares?

I spent the last two and a half years of my schooling at Chapman Univeristy in Orange, California.

Why is this relevant? Because Orange happens to be home to the Orange Circle. Possibly the only major round-about in all of southern California.

What's a round-about? It's that thing you always see in comedies about Europe where the road becomes a circle and everyone goes round and round.

The concept is actually pretty cool, because instead of a signal or a stop sign, you now have four yield signs, which means you can go zooming through a fourway intersection at any hour of the day or night safely without slowing down. No red light you might hit. No stop sign.

The only problem with the Orange Circle was that every day at rush hour the streets would become clogged with traffic, but this wasn't regular traffic. This was stupid traffic. This was traffic created by the ineptitude of all dopes around me who shouldn't have passed their driver tests. Why was there traffic? Because every moron who came upon the Orange Circle would STOP for the yield signs. A three minute drive could be stretched into a half an hour if you hit the Orange Circle at the wrong time. And all because no one seemed to know what a yield sign was for.

Now, some of you touchy-feely people out there, who like to make excuses for people you don't know are probably thinking, "They weren't used to a round-about."

I'd agree with you if it werent' for the fact that these were locals. (How do I know? You can tell by their license plate frames.)

Up in Los Angeles there aren't many yield signs. But there is one on the Wilshire offramp of the 405 freeway. A few days ago, my wife commented that I always get peeved whenever I get off the freeway here. I hadn't noticed it. But she was right. Before I even reached the offramp I'd start complaining about the idiot in front of me who was bound to stop for the yield sign and stare like a sheep at the oncoming traffic. The memories of countless hours spent sitting in needless traffic at the Orange Cirlce were somewhere in my sub-conscious fuelling me.

So out of all things to lose all patience for, I've lost all patience for people at yield signs.

So please. I beg of you. Yield. Don't stop. Just yield. The cranky doofus in the car behind you will thank you.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Pavlov's Dog, the Candle, and the Lava Lamp

Hello boys and girls, and now for your pleasure and mine, the Cocmeister (yes, Cocmeister) presents, "A Happy Fun Moment in History."

Rougly a century ago, a most excellent physiologist (yes, I'm doing the Bill & Ted thing) by the name of Ivan Pavlov stumbled upon what came to be known as the "conditioned reflex".

Now, a reflex is obviously something our body does on its own. It's subconscious and, at best, an action we only have limited control of... like blinking, breathing, salivating, or tackling people when they talk in movie theaters.

What Pavlov discovered was, given enough time, he could condition brand new reflexes into an animal's brain... namely, his dogs.

When Pavlov's dogs ate, they would salivate. Duh. What interested Pavlov was how they would also salvite whenever the man who fed them entered the room, regardless of whether he had any food on him not. (Yeah yeah, maybe they wanted to eat the man.)

Deciding to try an experiment, Pavlov began ringing a bell each time before his dogs would be fed. He continued this until one day he removed the food.

Now he had dogs who would salivate on cue whenever he rang a bell.

Keep in mind now, that the dogs had no control over this, hence a "conditioned reflex."

As cool as this trick is though, I still thing it takes a close second place to feeding your dog peanut-butter.

So why am I rambling on about old Russians and nasty pranks to play on your dog? Well, shaddup and keep reading.

I've got all sorts of junk on my desk. The computer, remotes, a clock, speakers, a candle, a lava lamp... etc. (Yes, just like the title of this blog entry. You're very smart. Have some peanut-butter.)

Anyways, while working on one of my more recent projects, I found myself under a heavy deadline. For some reason or another (I still don't know), I began a routine of lighting my candle and turning on my lava lamp before I'd begin work. This routine somehow became an inane ritual. Light the candle. Turn on the lamp. Work.

I finished the project and stopped doing the ritual...

The last script I wrote was the hardest project I've ever worked on. The writing process dragged on for a year and a half as I wrestled with the story to get it to match up with what was in my head. (The average script takes about six months.)

Suffice to say, about a year into I began fighting burn-out. I was tired of the script. I sick of writing and I wanted to at least move on to developing something else.

Then one night, for no apparent reason, I finished three times the amount of work that I usually do. It wasn't until later that I realized I had at somepoint lit the candle and flipped on the lava lamp.

The moral of this story of course is that, like dogs, screenwriters are trainable and will do just about anything if properly conditioned or given food.

Beware of producers bearing bells.

Saturday, February 26, 2005

Through hellfire, perfection, and plot-points I have fought...

On December 31'st 2004 I finally completeled my latest script.

Many told me that once I finished, "It would be so great! You'll want to get out and have fun as cartoon animals skip alongside you... singing." Damn you catoon animals, may I have no peace!?

Actually, it felt more like I had just come home from a very bloody war as all I really wanted to do was shut the blinds, go to sleep, and recover. Well now I'm rested, I'm pumped, and that means it's time to procrastinate and make a post.

So sit back, relax, and give those guys who say "Art is easy" a boot to the head.

The only drawback I can see is if I'm posting here then that must mean I also once again have a whip to my back.

"Hey Billy, do you like whips and cartoon animals? Then you should be screenwriter! It's the life for you...."

Thursday, December 23, 2004

I Live....

Just a report that I have not forgotten you. I'm polishing up the third act of my project now, and should be returning to make some real posts within the next few weeks.

See you soon.

Monday, October 18, 2004

Naughty Cocles!

It's already been well established that I'm currently in self imposed exile while trying to get this script done. So when I see all the hits I still get everyday as you guys wait for me to climb out from under my rock, it makes me feel like a schmuck when I realize that I've spent time posting on someone else's blog, instead of writing up something here for my more than understanding and undeservedly faithful readers.

SO... To try to make ammends, I'll make it easy for you to take a look a quick look at what the Cocmeister has been doing online when he decided to come out of his cave for a few fleeting moments.

To be short, I was an idiot and got myself involved in two online arguments. (Yes the kind, where even if you win you're still retarded.) But hey, I'm already a wank, so that doesn't make much a difference. Anyways, to get back to the point, while all of you have been waiting here, I've been out yelling at people about assault weapon bans and copyright laws.

So without further adieu, I give you some good Coc-drivel to read until I return to the land of the living with a lean, mean script under my arm.

Pixie's Gun Post and the Comments (Cocments?) that followed.

Graywolf's Copyright Post and the Comments that followed.
(And this Tangental Post in regards to Graywolf's.)

And just a heads up. If you any of you ripe dingo's have a comment that you'd like me to see, please do it here as this will be the only place I'm checking while under my rock.

Auf Wiedersehen!

Friday, October 01, 2004

Cocles Lives!

Howdy boys and goils. Just coming up for air to let you all know that your ol' Uncle Cocmeister hasn't forgotten you.

I'm currently locked away in rewrite land desperately trying to get this script done so I can finally send it out to generous proofreaders, and as soon as that happens, you can bet your sweet bippies I'll be ready for some good ol' fashioned procrastinatin'.

And since I've always got a back log of about 20 topics for this place, so you can be rest assured I'll be stickin' around here for a long time to come.

In the meantime you can find some genuine, Cocmeister approved blogs ...

here: Pixie's Mise En Place

here: Scotty Two-Shots

and here: The Wolf-Howl

And before any of you ninny's cry that I didn't post your blog, be rest assured that I'm saving it for the next incident when I don't have time to procrastinate.

See you in the funny papers.