TV

How To Be a Debt-Free College Samurai (5 Musts)

Or, “Debtxer: How I Serial Killed My School Debt”

It is a social norm to borrow money; students carry loans like backpacks. They’re everywhere. Weighing us down with a guiding hand. With loans, students study without having jobs or attend class without worrying of bills or can afford their outrageous price-gauging textbooks. Students think nothing of it because their loans are wrapped in pretty packages, bundled with the free financial aid; they wave, smile. The numbers show us their boobs. “LOOK AT ME,” she says.

I returned to college when all my high-school friends were graduating with degrees. I’m now 27 and am finishing my junior year as an undergrad. It feels like it’s taking forever because it is. Still, I’m excited because—although I’m tired of school and feel too old all the time—I’m studying exactly what I want to study, and I’ve remained debtless throughout my academic journey.

I’m no Dave Ramsey diehard freak, nor do I only carry cash, nor do I have a clean credit card; regardless, when it comes to student loans, I believe you should borrow as little of it as possible or, if you can avoid it, none at all. Don’t be a dumb college student. Be an awesome samurai. Samurais earn their way. Samurais serve with nobility and never borrow. Samurais think ahead.

But Kevvvinnnn, howwwww??? I need my mocchhhaaaaaazz (dumb college girl voice). (more…)

The Avett Brothers—the ‘Breaking Bad’ of Live Music

Formal Opening: This esteemed, academic discussion will argue that The Avett Brothers are to live music as Breaking Bad is to television drama: elevating the craft and challenging the accepted paradigm through optimal songwriting and storytelling, employing a diverse range of genres, effectively executing dynamically positioned theatricality.

Relaxed Opening: I saw The Avett Brothers for the first time last night, and they were freakin’ awesome!

And It Spread

The Avett Brothers made a stop here in Rochester to promote their new album, Magpie and the Dandelion; however, brothers and co. primarily performed older material from Emotionalism and I and Love and You. (more…)

That One Time I Married Special Agent Dana Scully

My favorite X-File comes from Season 10. It’s called “Marriage.” In this freaky episode, two harmless citizens dedicate the rest of their lives to each other until they die. The man and woman follow one another all across the world, leaving friends and family behind, and even if they aren’t always happy, they stick together and see through it. Quickly dispatched are Agents Mulder and Scully who investigate this unexplained phenomena.

Scully, the scientist, suggests brain trauma. Mulder, the dreamer, hypothesizes anew.

MULDER: What if they’re in love, Scully?

SCULLY: In love?

MULDER: Ancient Irish folklore suggests the idea of ‘love’ as early…

I Want to Believe

I’m just gonna come right out and say it. I’m a huge X-Files fan. Right? That little outdated show from the ‘90s is my TV bread and butter. It’s on Netflix now, which means I get to drag my wife through the entire series.

The X-Files means a lot to me. It’s the salient reason I ever started writing. As a child, I loved the idea of exploring different pockets of the country and each week discovering a different monster. Pushing boundaries and all. I began writing short stories in elementary school because of it.

My wife, she’s an awesome wife, got me a book for my birthday called The Philosophy of The X-Files. Nerdy? A little. You know your wife loves you when she encourages you to nerd-out.

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Short Story: Reality Ace
A prologue to a short story I’m writing. Happy Short Story Saturday!!! (I just made that up). Warning: Rough language.

Prologue: Reality Ace

There’s no such thing as reality. Reality TV, that is. Viewers assume—we want them to; if not, we’d be on welfare—cameramen show up and start following strangers, like assholes.

No, no, honey. There’s contracts and lighting, and scripts. Have you ever seen a producer without a script? Me neither. When a producer’s involved you can bet there’s going to be a script. It’s going to be fake; that’s what you pay for—entertainment. It’s an industry, baby, and we don’t leave shit to chance.

A jungle, a deserted island, a cooking contest, it doesn’t matter. Reality TV is no better, no different than professional wrestling (sometimes, wrestlers wear more clothes); we know the winner (you know we do), and we know the outcome (you’ve got to know).

That’s what I do. Ace Jordan. I produce outcomes.

CBS, I started there. Every two years some new hotshot out of UCLA film studies guns for your job. So I ended up at NBC, but what did they know? Nothing, it turns out. A year later I moved on to basic cable with two offers: “Heels on the Hills,” (for lovers of rich, white suburban wife drama), and “Ghost Walk,” a run of the mill ghost hunters program.

I chose “Heels” for the paycheck, but it cancelled after three episodes. Pulling some strings, I found myself on the set of “Ghost Walk” as a location scout.

The show’s main producer, Jerry, told me the first season was filmed entirely in a studio. By season two the network asked him to branch out. 

“A real circus act,” says Jerry and it’s true. We’ve filmed in abandoned state hospitals and creaky old cabins—the locations, I find them all. It’s a shit job, but it’s mine, and I take it seriously. That’s the only way to get ahead: take your shit-job seriously.

Our indomitable hosts, Michael, Brad, and Aisla, are as good as any I’ve seen. On TV they’re touched, thrown down, and spoken to by entities. People ask me if I ever get scared while filming on location. I tell them that, often, we retake cuts due to crew laughter. Everything’s staged.

And honestly? Brad deserves an Oscar.

Tomorrow we head to Upstate New York, a little town outside of Rochester. (The worst part of canceling “Heels” and gaining “Walk” was the move from Los Angeles to New York. I’ve got a mouse-hole for an apartment, costing me what a three bedroom in the Valley did). There’s this old abandoned house in Pittsford I found—empty for nearly thirty years, the city is tearing it down—it’s perfect. We’re claiming it as the site of a 1942 family murder in Pennsylvania (that never happened) and interviewing fake neighbors for hire.

Ghosts are as fake as a Food Network cooking contest and I know the winner, the outcome. All I need is a paycheck and a way out, a way back to the Emmys.

Just give me a way out.

TV vs. The World, Jack Bauer vs. My Brain

Recently, Megan and I finished watching the last season of 24. If you’re not familiar with this television program, let me sum up the general plot for you.

There’s bad guys who want to bomb something (or somehow kill a lot of people). There’s Jack Bauer who works with/for/or against Counter Terrorist Unit (CTU), depending on government morality. CTU has a terrible human resources department.

Jack will also usually torture, or at least be tortured once per season. Chloe O’Brien, Jack’s right-hand helper, somehow manages to stay alive throughout the series. There’s usually a storyline revolving around a US President. Everyone else dies. Jack always wins. Events occur in real time. 

So I’m done with the series. I’d love to take a whole day to break down all the psychological, philosophical, and political issues I came across watching 24. (more…)