The Power of “BUT”

butThe most powerful word in the English language is “but.”  It’s a grammatical Liam Neeson with a very particular set of skills that kicks ass.  It’s way better than that greedy little “and” who’s always looking for something extra the minute he shows up.  And, don’t get me started on “or:” grammar’s Hamlet, who couldn’t make a decision if his life depended on it.  No, for sheer conjunctional word power, go with “but” every time.  Here’s why:

1 – “but” sugarcoats the punch in the face — When you want to rip somebody a new one but you don’t want them to get so angry they go home and get a shotgun, throw in a “but.”  For example: “Jennifer, you are one of our most valued employees, conscientious and hard-working, BUT you have the math skills of a goat, and if you don’t get with it, I’m going to fire you so hard your grandchildren will be unemployed.”

2 – “but” pleads your case — When you know you screwed up and you’re looking around for something else to blame, use “but.”  Once again: “I know I drove your car into the side of that guy’s house, BUT you didn’t tell me it had sticky brakes when I borrowed it.”

And if you play #2 correctly…

3 – “but” can even get you off the hook — “Normally, I’d pay for the repairs to your car, BUT if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have ever known about those bad brakes.  Actually, I did you a big favour.”

Also

4 – “but” lets us look on the bright side — When your situation seems about as bleak as the slums of Mordor, try “but” to turn the lemon into lemonade.  “Hey, bro!  Sorry I had sex with your wife and your little sister last month after your birthday party, BUT they both phoned today, and guess what?  They’re not pregnant.  Cool, huh?”

And finally the most badass tool of all:

5 – nothing important ever gets said until someone says “but.” — In any conversation, discussion or argument, you can discount everything that’s said before “but.”  In fact, you don’t even have to listen.  Check it out:

“I understand your point of view, but only the part that happened before you opened your mouth.”
“Of course I agree, but not enough to quit arguing with you.”
“That’s an interesting opinion, but I’m not all that familiar with LooneyTunes cartoons.”
“Certainly, this current refugee problem is a crisis of biblical proportion and Western governments have a moral obligation to offer as much assistance as possible but what are all these gypsies, tramps and thieves doing in my country?”
“I like pasta, too, but there’s no way I’m eating that Italian glue tonight.”
“I’m not a racist but, man, those people are weird.”
“I love you dearly, but if you leave the toilet seat up one more time, I’m going to shoot you in the head.”
Etc. etc. etc.

So here’s to you, “but,” you sassy little conjunction!  Thanks for always being there for us.

People Lie!

LyingPeople lie.  It’s as natural as breathing.  Sometimes we do it for a good reason, but mostly we do it just because we can.  Here are a few examples:

At the dentist:
What they say — “You might feel a little discomfort.”
What they mean — “Welcome to Doctor Mengele’s Emporium of Pee-Your-Pants Pain.”

At the gynecologist:
What they say — “Just relax and let’s take a look.”
What they mean — “Brace yourself, honey. We’re on a quest to find the source of the Nile.”

When you ask directions in a strange city:
What they say — “You can’t miss it.”
What they mean — “I have no idea what you’re looking for, but I know most of the stuff in town is over there — somewhere.”

At a dinner party:
What they say — “I tried something new.”
What they mean — “Your food is going to taste like socks.”

Talking to the computer salesperson:
What they say — “It’s got 8.00 GB usable 64 – bit OS and 1.60 GHz.”
What they mean — “You’re so stupid I could sell you a dead donkey if it had an Apple logo on it.”

At the grocery store:
What they say — “Organic.”
What they mean — “Twice the price and half the taste.”

Internet Travel Advertisements:
What they say — “Hawaii! Airfare from $299”
What they mean — “Hi!  We’re just here fishing for idiots.”

Internet Travel Sites:
What they say — “Hawaii, airfare from $299”
What they mean — “Caught one!”

At family gatherings:
What they say — “It’ll be fun.”
What they mean — “Come on over.  The uncles are going to fight with each other and their kids are going to act like a troupe of deranged orangutans.”

Telephoning the Government:
What they say — “Your call is important to us.”
What they mean — “The department you want is playing Candy Crush right now, but how about a 3 hour rendition of Wagner’s Ring Cycle for flute and bassoon?”

Talking with friends:
What they say — “We’ve been friends for a long time.”
What they mean — “I want to borrow money.”

Arguing with friends:
What they say — “Let’s agree to disagree.”
What they mean — “I can’t believe I’m friends with you — you moron.”

Talking with friends of friends:
What they say — “Yeah, I’ve known him since high school.”
What they mean — “I’m a way better friend than you are.”

Arguing with anybody:
What they say — “That’s racist.”
What they mean — “Wow!  What a logical and concise argument.  This conversation is over.”

Talking with the boyfriend:
What they say — “Hey, love!  What ya thinkin’?”
What they mean — “Any chance of getting laid?”

Talking with the husband:
What they say — “Hey, love! What ya thinkin’?”
What they mean — “Any chance of a sandwich?”

Talking with the girlfriend:
What they say — “Does this dress make me look fat?”
What they mean — “It better not, or the only thing you’re going to be touching after the party is yourself.”

Talking with the wife:
What they say — “This dress makes me look fat.”
What they mean — “I gave up Andrew, that drop-dead-handsome lawyer for you. The least you can do is have the decency to lie to me.”

How To Write A Horror Movie – 2015

horror movieHallowe’en is nearly upon us, so, from here ’til breakfast on November 1st, we’re up to our elbows in the splattering blood of the Horror Movie.  Personally, I don’t watch horror movies.  I’ve had the hell scared out of me for real, a couple of times, and I’m in no great hurry to have that sickening adrenaline rush artificially induced.  However, I’m clearly in the minority: horror movies are a multi-billion dollar business.

So why not cash in?

Here’s a simple guide that will help you write your own horror movie, and depending on how ambitious you are, take you to the very gates of Horror Movie Heaven: The Slasher Franchise.

SPOILER ALERT (If you watch Horror Movies for the storyline, stop reading right now.)

Character — All Horror movies are based on one single character: the half-naked young woman.  Ideally, you need one Alpha female and a couple of expendable friends.  (We’ll call them The Skanks.)  Don’t sweat the details on the The Skanks — they don’t need anything beyond abnormal cleavage and interesting underwear.  They’re just there to flash a lot of skin, do a little screaming and get butchered early on, to show that the villain/monster/psycho is serious.  The Alpha female, on the other hand, does need some character development — perhaps a name or a hairstyle.
You also need an Alpha male (normally a boyfriend.)  He comes with his own set of male friends — a larger, stronger man and an idiot.  The idiot is there to do stupid stuff that invariably attracts the villain/monster/psycho.  The larger, stronger friend is there to get hacked up somewhere around halftime to prove that the villain/monster/psycho is unstoppable.  And the Alpha male is there to … uh … actually, the Alpha male doesn’t exactly have a job — but again, don’t sweat the details.  The Alpha male should have a name, however, so the Alpha female can scream it on occasion.
Finally, you need a villain/monster/psycho.  This guy REALLY doesn’t matter; all he needs to be is somewhat grotesque and have a steady supply of sharp and/or pointy things to stick into people.

Setting — Someplace so dark and isolated that nobody in their right mind would even think about going there.

Plot — The only plot device in any Horror Movie is everybody in the movie (except the villain/monster/psycho) has to be about as dumb as a box of wet hammers.  First, when confronted by a dark, rambling mansion, deserted campsite, scary island or what-have-you, the characters must ignore common sense completely (stuff like, there’s safety in numbers) and split up and go exploring.  Get out the body bags!  Next, as they creep around dark alleys, hallways, basements, attics or derelict buildings, they must never turn on the lights nor carry anything brighter than a disposable cigarette lighter.  Toe tags, anyone?  And finally, even in the heat of battle, the characters must never arm themselves with anything more dangerous than a toothbrush (which — in a land as gun crazy as America — is a good trick.)  In short, they should show all the survival instincts of a lemming.
Meanwhile, the villain/monster/psycho should be equipped with a variety of hacking, stabbing and slashing devices.  He should be able to wield these ingenious weapons with the stealth and dexterity of a ninja; butchering everything in sight until only the Alpha female and (maybe) the Alpha male remain in one piece.  Then, simply shuffle the villain/monster/psycho off into the darkness, and it’s “roll credits” and you’re outta there!

So there you have it.  All you need to do is write it up.  Or, you can forget the whole thing and go buy some old Archie Comics, piece together a couple of their adventures, add a villain/monster/psycho to massacre a few of them, and you’re halfway to Hollywood.