Lt. Lambaste and the SciGuy vs. WTF???

Lt. Lambaste: Good afternoon.  I'm Lt. Lambaste!

SciGuy: And I'm the SciGuy!  And we're....

Together: NOT GOING TO KILL ANYMORE CLONES!!!

LL: That's right folks.  Killing clones is mean, unproductive, probably legally murder...ish, and it hurts their feelings!

SG: Clones are people too!  Weird people who live in the catacombs beneath the basement of Writing About Writing, but people nonetheless!

LL: Also we just don't do stuff like that anymore.....because it's wrong.

SG: So we've put on our festive Santa hats--as you can see--to bring you a kinder, gentler use of the uber-cannon to hunt down pretentious stuff.  And today...we're going to dismantle the Pretentitron.  And I'm not at all upset about seeing my life's work destroyed!  Not even a little.  It's not like I spent thirty years on it only to see it become the primary weapon in an inter-dimensional war or--

LL: And can I just stop you there, SciGuy, and wish everyone a happy Not Dying and Screaming in the Mayan apocalypse day?  Isn't it awesome to not be appocolipsified?  Thanks Dr. Who!

SG: Absolutely, Lieutenant, if anything, this is a day of rebirth--it's the winter solstance.  Sunreturn.  Saturnalia for which Saturn--or Greek Kronia--is named. What a great day to have to find a new career!

LL: Wow, that's really interesting SciGuy.  Isn't it great not killing clones.  Isn't that just great...like we rehearsed...in rehearsal....where we said it was great.

SG: Shut UP.  I was just thinking the same thing!  And....wait...getting some strange readings here.

LL: Strange readings?  I'll say!  This isn't anything like the holiday cheer and puppies reading we rehearsed.  You're totally off fucking script, you stupid civvie...

SG: No El Tee, like some actually strange readings.  I think a rift might be opening.   I think The Octorians are coming through.

LL: The Octorians?  They surrendered, you silly goose.  Well all except that rogue general guy--  ooomph.

SG: Cynthia!  Oh my GOD!!!

LL: Damn....that's gonna scar.

SG:  Oh god.  Oh god.  You...can't live without that bit or that bit.  And I'm not even sure what this is.  We gotta get you into the Pretentitron and clone you.  You're not going to live.

LL: Will a clone be me though--even with my memories?  Will my consciousness be unaltered?  My quantum state thingie...

Octorian:  Ahem....

SG: I don't know.  All I know is I can't live without you Cynthia.

LL: Damn Sci, are you in love with me?

SG: No...it's just a really tough job market.

Octorian: AHEM!!!!

LL: I really wish I could have gone out protecting something, you know?  This feels like a stupid death.  Like Tasha Yar stupid.

SG: No death will ever be that stupid, Cynthia.  I swear it.  EVER!!!  Besides....this isn't even Walsh or Shepherd Book stupid.  This is like a Cpl. Hicks death.  Not remotely Tasha Yar stupid.

LL: If I find out you made a holographic self-eulogy...so help me.....

Octorian: AH-HEM!!!

SG: WHAT???  Seriously, you can't just DO your terrible plan?  You have to have me be an audience for some speech and talk about it first or something?

Octorian: Um.....well...yes.  So pay attention human worm!  I am War General Gilgish of the Octorian Legions.

SG: Why do you sound like an effete Brit?

General Gilgish: Romans always do--even Romans in space or Roman-esque governments.  Now be silent!  My world may not harbor the will to do what is needed to remove the scourge of Earth's pretentiousness from the universe and the blight that is Chris Brecheen and this god awful blog, but I have no such compunctions.  I shall clone myself interminably, as you did pLink, and spread across your world like an extremely virulent virus.

SG: Like a....plague maybe?

GG: I do not use cliches!  I am not pretentious.  I seek to eliminate pretentious from the world!  Now...tell me how to use this device.  This pretentitron.

SG: You are a cliche.

GG: Human, believe me that I can prolong your death for weeks--possibly months if you eat sufficient amounts of fiber.  Now help me!

SG: Let's see...help you commit genocide of my entire race by showing you how to use the machine of Earth's undoing or tell you to use your own cephlopodic tentacles to fuck yourself hentai anime style.  Tough choice!

GG: Oh human.  Oh dear, sweet human... You have made a grievous error this day.

LL: Hey, SciGuy....what do you think will happen if I shoot the uber canon here at the Pretentitron?

SG: Cynthia, no!  That's your only hope for survival!

LL: Yeah, but this guy is a really big asshole.  Like goatse big.

GG: Wait!  Wait, Lieutenant Lambaste.  Let us discuss this....as soldiers. Think this through...even with an army of clones, I can't possibly destroy all humanity.  I don't have the weaponry and I can't infiltrate your govenments seeing as I'm a giant cephalopod.   I'll have to pick and choose my battles.  I'll have to eliminate only the most pretentious.

LL: I'm starting to see a tunnel and a light.  Can you switch to the Cliffs Notes version?

GG: Isn't that what you want too?  Isn't that what the Pretentiron and killing pretentious clones is all about?  Aren't we on the same basic mission.  Don't we want the same thing?

LL: No.  We're not on the same mission.  I was killing clones so the originals would live.  So the originals would learn a lesson.

GG: (Breaking melodramatic character) Okay, actually that's fair point.  I always wondered why the hell that was.  Insight?

LL: Because you fucking intergalactic, tentacle-faced, genocidificating, Harold Bloomish, goatse raging-elitist SNOB, a good artist is just a pretentious prat.... (~throws the uber cannon's safety~) ....who didn't fucking quit.

~FSHHHHHHHHTHOMBLAMBLASTSPLORT!!!~

SG: NOOOOOOOOOO!

GG: NOOOOOOOOOO!

LL: BOOOOYAAAAAAH, motherfucker!!!

SG: Oh holy fucking BALLS, Cynthia.  Why, in the name of ZUES'S BUTTHOLE didn't you just shoot HIM????

LL: Moving target.  Couldn't....take...the.........chance.  Aaaarrrrrgggh-

SG: Yeah....  that's true.  The clones kept getting away if you didn't catch them off guard.  Damn, Cynthia, you just totally upgraded to, like, T-800 death or maybe even Spock.  That was fucking....um.....rest in peace Lieutenant.  Rest in peace.

GG: You!  Science nerd!  You will fix the cloning machine!

SG: The hell I will.  You just killed my boss. So I'm a touch on the "fuck you" side even without the genocide thing.  And yeah, I may have had a few fantasies about whether her undies were also camouflage, not that I'd admit it to her.

LL: I knew it!  Aaarrrrggggh-

SG:  You are so far off my Christmas list right now.

GG: Wait... what?   WHAT DID YOU SAY???  Christmas?  What is this Christmas?

SG: It's a holiday.  And by the way, you've ruined mine.  Go tentacle rape yourself please.

GG: He has a list?  He has a HOLIDAY????

SG: Well...yeah.  I mean...most people think of him as the savior of all mankind.  I don't...I'm a scientist, but--

GG: DAMN HIM!!!  DAMN CHRIS BRECHEEN!!!

SG: Oh wait, no.  It's not actually that Chris--

GG: You're right little science man with your enlarged, bulbous brain.  You cannot fix this machine fast enough for it to matter.  Your world's defenses are en route even as I speak. I cannot win this battle against all of pretentiousness though Earth crawls with its corruptive filth.  I will destroy this world's most pretentious artist and have the death I have been living for!

SG: You're....hurting me.

GG: (looking at the camera) Do you see this people of Earth?

SG: We only have like five hundred veiwers, man...~choke~   Seriously that's not even like one city on Earth...and.... ~choke~

GG: I will kill this scientist and his brain, and I will keep killing innocents until you bring me your champion of the pretentious.  Bring me this...."savior of all mankind."  I will see this pretentious blog destroyed, and it's creator dead. AT. MY. FEET!  Bring me the head writer!  BRING ME CHRIS BRECHEEN!



TO BE CONTINUED...

Lt. Lambaste on The Future of the Pretentitron

Dear Chris Brecheen,

I cannot continue to work under these circumstances.  I was wrapping up a session with a NaNo writer clone named Erika, who was telling me all about how she was now a novelist and would be sending her book to Bantam Books on Nov 2, after she "gave it a quick polish."  She even figured her idea was so amazing that they would assign her an editor so there was no need to do more than a cursory check for big grammar mistakes, and that she would be making money in time to use royalties for holiday shopping.  I asked her about the NaNo website's warning that revision is needed, and she said that she got an A on the last paper she write right before the deadline, so she would give it that quick polish, but she knew it was a great novel.

I mean, it was perfect.

Then I went to shoot her with the ubercanon, but the damned thing didn't work.  I pulled the trigger, but no boom.   Then "Evil Chris" showed up wearing some goofy-ass half mask, jumps THROUGH a mirror on the far wall (seriously, he somehow went through the mirror), and grabs Erika.

He told me these people were real people.  I could call ideas and behaviors pretentious, but if I continued to try to point at actual people, a disaster beyond my imagination would occur.  Then there was a puff of smoke, and he totally disappeared.

How am I supposed to run my segment if a'The Phantom of W.A.W." is going to show up and sabotage my gun and steal my clones?  This has to be dealt with!

-Lt. Lambaste



Lt. Lambaste,

Weren't you the one who decided to clone me?  Wasn't the decision to clone someone who knew about the Pretentitron directly responsible for his escape?  Don't we now face the existential crisis of a moral conundrum surrounding killing clones for their pretentiousness because YOU decided to clone an actual person and it got away, and now we know it has a life and feelings and ambitions?  What once was a cute joke that no one really thought of has revealed itself to be morally....well, I would use the word questionable, but it really kind of goes beyond that, doesn't it.

I am unwilling to let you go because the Pretentitron has helped so much in the war efforts against the genocidal cephalopods.  Also because you can kill me in twenty different ways with just the stuff sitting around my office.  So I'd rather work with you to come up with a successful segment than risk an ariel strike.

I think perhaps my evil twin may have a point.  Pointing at pretentious ideas and laughing is practically required when it comes to writing (for there are so many that writers seem blind to).  But that seems a little different than actually cloning pretentious people and killing them.  Maybe this wasn't...in a manner of speaking...our most spectacular idea ever.

Why don't you switch with Guy Goodman St.White during December.  That gives you five weeks to come up something that isn't quite so....murderous.

Also....after the last major attack from genocidal cephalopods, there were a lot of their super-sciency weapons we were able to commandeer.  We gave some to R&D of course, but I've also given some of them to the A Team to practice with.  However, they still haven't gotten any better at hitting anything....unless of course that thing is the side of a wall and they are spelling out their name in bullets.    

If it's not a black wall....nothing.

Do you think maybe you can spend some time trying to teach them how to shoot?

-Chris

Lt. Lambaste and the SciGuy vs. Chris Brecheen

Lt. Lambaste:  Hi everyone, I'm Lt. Lambaste, and that magnificent hunk of brain back there is The SciGuy.   I just got off the phone with Chris.  He wanted me to load up a Nanowrimo writer into the clone matrix for today's segment.  I told him that he'd really overblown his wad on that whole thing, and I wasn't going to play into his mindless vendetta.   I said something to him that once made my C.O. blush.  He tried to order me to do it or he'd fire me...he's so cute.  Anyway, I told him that I had uploaded his brain patterns and I would be cloning HIM if he didn't drop it.  He said something about needing to do it while there was still time to make a difference.  I stopped listening at that point.  I also hung up shortly after, so he'd know I wasn't listening.

And so now....stepping out of The Pretentitron...is a clone of Writing About Writing's executive writer, Chris Brecheen.

CB: Hey Lieutenant.  I'm glad to see you.  Listen, I was actually going to call you to talk about your segment. I was wondering if maybe you could clone a Nano fan and get them to talk about how they're totally novelists and...um...how did I get here?

LL: Hey SciGuy, he seems pretty self aware for one of our clones.  What's going on?

SG: Well the neural pattern overlay includes memories.  So technically this clone knows about The Pretentitron and might be putting two and two together.

CB: I'm a clone???  You mean you're going to shoot me with the Ubercannon.  I am so out of here!

LL: Only if you're pretentious.

CB: Oh dear lord!  I'm always pretentious.  I wrote like three pages last year that weren't pretentious.  And one of them was questionable.

LL: Wait, come back.  I'm supposed to interview you.  Maybe we could talk about your Facebook argument earlier today?  Or your blog...with all the imaginary guest bloggers.  Let's talk about that!

CB: Fuck that.  I'm out of here!

LL: What if I promise not to shoot you?  COME BACK!  SciGuy...initiate clone-is-escaping containment protocols.

CB:  Also you're fired.  And I'm sure the other me would think so too.

SG:  Damn it!  It's too late.  He was outside the perimeter before you finished that sentence.  I probably should have thought about what a clone might do if it knew it was a clone....destined to be killed for being pretentious.

LL: Yeah, this is not good.   I'm guessing that Chris might start to consider some of the moral and ethical implications of what we're doing here.  You know....now that we've cloned him.

SG: Maybe you just should have done the show he wanted.  Those Nano guys ARE pretty pretentious.

LL: That's not the point.

SG: Maybe you have little problem with authority?  Just like to disobey anytime there's nitrogen in the air.

LL: Shut up.

SG: Maybe that's why you aren't really a lieutenant anymore.

LL: You know I didn't fire the ubercannon.  It's still ready to rock.

SG: Whatever.

LL: Okay...just, let me handle this.  NO one mentions that there's another Chris Brecheen running around Writing About Writing.

SG: You don't think maybe people will notice?  Like you don't think maybe the two of them will run into each other down near underground parking and realize something a little weird is going on?

LL: Maybe not.  If I can keep the real Chris distracted while you use your brain to figure out how to capture the other one, it'll be okay.

SG: Like...will you give him some brain teasers or something.  Maybe some Soduku?

LL: (sighs)  No...that's how I might distract you.

SG: Well, I hope he wasn't watching today's segment, or he saw the whole thing.

LL:  Oh my god!  The cameras.  Turn them off.  Turn them--

~static~

Lt. Lambaste vs. The Swordpen

Hur hur.  Penis.  

Lieutenant Lambaste: Lt. Lambaste here.  The Sci Guy is imprinting the next clone even now, and I've reloaded the mega-gun.  I apologize for the mess in the background.  When I got here there was another strike commando team of those damned cephalopods and I had to unload the megagun on their leader and then take out the others in the chain-of-command confusion with my sidearm.  But other than some scattered entrails and blood-splattered walls, we should be business as usual.  At least I think that's blood.  Anyway, the Sci Guy assures me that today we have quite a treat, so let's go ahead and fire up this bad boy and meet our writer.  SciGuy?  If you would?

SciGuy: Imprinting personality matrix onto the clone...loading memories....and here he comes.

LL: Hello.

Writer Clone: Hi.  Man this place is a mess.  You should write to someone about this.

LL: Janitor comes after the segment.

WC: I'd write to have them do a cleaning before the show.  Or better yet...I'd write a letter to their supervisor complaining.

LL: You like writing huh?  Tell me a little about that.

WC: The pen is mightier than the sword.  I'm going to change the world through my words.

LL: You are?  Tell me all about it.

WC: Oh yeah.  I go to all the political forums and just tell those Republicans what's why their arguments are fallacies.  I can tell I knock them into stunned silence when I just reply with the name of the fallacy they used because they almost never say anything back.

LL: You picked someone with an obvious political affiliation SciGuy?

SG: An artist in the Bay Area.  I didn't have a lot to work with.

LL: Fair enough.  So, my new writer friend.  Do you ever win any of these arguments?

WC: I win all these arguments.  Hands down.  There was one a few weeks ago, and this guy just kept replying and kept replying, but I wasn't going to give up.  So we went at it for days and the thread went down the page like a half a mile from end to end.  And eventually I had to explain to him what the words he was using actually meant.  But finally he gave up.  That's what being a writer is all about.

LL: You must change a lot of minds.  Have you considered political writing?

WC: No, I don't want to get involved in politics.  That's bullshit.  I'm working on the great American novel.  It's going to show this messed up future where there are two societies.  One that accepted Obamacare and the other that didn't.  There's this wall....and the Nobamacares--clever huh?--they're always trying to get to the Obamacares side when they get sick.  It's going to show so many people how stupid they are.

SG: Oh man!  This is gold.

LL: You're actually going to call it Obamacare and Nobama care?  Don't you think that's a little...transparent.

WC: People are too stupid to get it if I don't spoon feed it to them.  I have to show them how wrong they are.  Because they haven't ever really thought about it...not really.  If they had, they'd already agree with me.  This book will help them get all the facts and make the right choice.

LL: So how's that book going?

WC:  Well, it's mostly in my head right now.  I have an outlined chapter on my laptop.

LL: Why not work on that while the whole debate is still relevant.

WC: Well, there's just so many places I can change the world with my Swordpen, you know?  That's my word.  Swordpen.  Because--.

LL: Oh, I get it.

WC: I write scathing letters to all kinds of businesses if they don't treat me well.  The other day I got a fee from my bank because I'd overdrafted for the third time in a year.  I mean these are just little human errors, and they charged me a bunch of money for it.  I'm sure after that letter, they reconsidered their draconian policies.

LL: I'm sure.

WC: I do way more damage with my words than most people ever could with a phone call or a complaint to the manager?  I go home and spend hours on a carefully worded e-mail to their owner or corporate office and just bring down the thunder.

LL: Wouldn't they have to use their words in a phone call?

WC:  Yeah but I use...good words.  Plus if they don't send me an apology and like gift certificates for free stuff, I write bad Yelp reviews about them.  Really articulate ones that totally trash their businesses.

LL: Ended a lot of businesses on Yelp have you?

WC: Well, maybe not ENDED, but I'm sure I affected their business.  My weapons are my words.  They are as devastating as any actual gun.

LL: I almost have everything I need here.  Maybe you could just tell me where you do most of this writing to change the world with that swordpen of yours.

WC: MOST of my writing?  Hmmmm.  Probably on Facebook.

LL:  Thanks.  That'll do it.

~FSHHHHHHHHTHOMBLAMBLASTSPLORT!!!~

SG: Best. Job. Ever.

LL: I know right?  Okay, dear reader.  Thanks for stopping by.  We'll see you next month when we fire up the Pretentitron again.  And hopefully Chris will have done something about these damn octopus people by then.

Lt. Lambaste Victim #1: SFSU's Creative Writing Graduates

Lt Lambaste:  Lt. Lambaste here.  Welcome to the lab.  I've armed the Ubercannon, and the sci-guy has already fired up the Pretentitron, so you're joining us at the perfect time.  The clone has been cultivated, and is currently being uploaded with what the SciGuy has called "a composite of SFSU Creative Writing program graduates."

I can't wait to see what that even means.  SciGuy, you want to explain this while your clone uploads.

SciGuy: Well, as you know Writing About Writing's executive producer and head writer, Chris Brecheen, got his degree at SFSU, and when I mentioned the Pretentitron could take pretentious people's brain waves and imprint them on clones that we could then obliterate for their impudence he laughed and said we should cultivate personalities from SFSU.  Well the place was so rife with pretentiousness that I couldn't possibly settle on a single brain algorithm.  I decided to use a composite matrix of all the students graduating.

LL: All of them?

SG: As many as I could upload during the graduation ceremonies--which is pretty close to all of them.  As you know, Chris didn't attend his graduation ceremonies, so technically the results might be skewed towards better writing and a noticeably lacking signal to noise ratio.

LL: You know he signs your paychecks, right?

SG: You sign my paychecks.

LL: You know he signs MY paychecks, right?

SG: What I meant to say is writing skewed more towards poor output and a signal to noise ratio that is...not commendable for practice.

LL: Perhaps it would be better if you awkwardly changed the subject.

SG: So...anyway my clones have a composite personality matrix of the entire graduating class of Creative Writing majors for the Spring 12 semester.

LL: So these are people who have finished a degree in Creative Writing.  Arguably the most serious and least pretentious creative writers in the world.

SG: Arguably.  I think you'll still be impressed with the final result.  Despite some diamonds in the rough, there were some remarkably disconcerting trends that caused the average to be...quite spectacular.

LL: Can't wait. 

SG: We're getting the green light on the upload.  The clone is coming out of the chamber now.

Pretentious Clone: Holy fuck, that's a big gun.

LL: And not at all phallic, you'll notice.  So answer my questions or I'll shoot you with it.

PC: Okay....hey are we on television.

LL: Close kid.  We're on a blog.  

PC: That's not close at--

LL: Shut up kid.  I'm asking the questions.  You want to be a writer, right?

PC: Oh yeah.  I have this great idea for an epic space saga.  It's about this farm boy and a Dark Lord....

LL: Who are your greatest influences.

PC: George Lucas, Stephen Spielberg, Ridley Scott, James Cameron, Peter Jackson....I guess Michael Bay a little...when he doesn't suck.  I've watched everything Joss Whedon has done at least twice.  Aww man, did you see the Avengers...when Hulk punched Thor: fucking classic.

LL: I mean your biggest writing influences.  Like...other authors.

PC: Well, I don't really read that much, actually.  I guess Stephen King.  I used to read Piers Anthony.

LL: You...want to be a writer...but you don't read.

PC: Well, I mean I read some stuff.  I read Harry Potter six and seven because I couldn't wait for the next movie. Plus I had to read boring shit to get my degree like Virginia Woolf and Seamus Heany.

LL: Boring...stuff...

PC: Yeah, I mean...reading is okay. 

LL: How can you write if you don't read.  

PC: Oh well I just love making up stories.  I have this great idea for this epic chronicle.  I'm not sure if it would be eight books or more like ten, but I totally have this awesome end battle sequence worked out.

LL: Wanting to write without wanting to read is like wanting to exhale without wanting to inhale.

PC: Yeah, I don't know man.  Kevin Smith doesn't read that much.  He said in an interview once that he mostly just watches movies.

LL: Holy crap.  SciGuy was right.  I'm going to get pretentious bingo blackout in under five minutes with you. 

PC: Huh?

LL: You can't honestly think you have the ability to write if you don't read.

PC:  My friends totally like the story I wrote for my short story class.  They all said it was really good and that I should get it published.  Well my girlfriend anyway.  My friends said it might need some polish or something, but I totally proofread it three times.

LL: Did you?

PC: Yeah like three times!

LL: I mean did you submit it for publication?

PC: The New Yorker and The Atlantic rejected it.  They don't appreciate my vision the way my friends do.  What the hell do they know.

LL: Maybe you should start with some place more suited to your writing style and skill level.

PC: Nah man, I just need to network.  It's not what you know.  It's WHO you know, right?  I mean they let that one guy write his own screenplay because his friend was a director, right?  So I've been going to all these parties, and trying to get in good with film students.  They need good writers.

LL: Why don't you go into movie making.  That clearly seems to be more your passion.  

PC: Yeah, well breaking into Hollywood is hard.  Being a writer is a lot easier.  Plus Hollywood has all those wannabies who are like totally not serious but just have big dreams, and I totally--

~FSHHHHHHHHTHOMBLAMBLASTSPLORT!!!~

LL: Oh. My. God.

SG: That didn't take long.

LL: It was too much.  It was TOO good.  I couldn't even listen to him anymore.  We're going to have to do less well in the future if we want to have longer interviews.  You can no longer use the composite matrix of SFSU Creative Writing graduates.  They are simply way too pretentious.

SG: You got it, Lieutenant.  I will find something a little less pretentious for next month.

LL:  Well....dear reader.  We hope you have enjoyed our segment.  This is Lt. Lambaste here with The SciGuy signing off and wishing you a great June.  We'll see you back here in July for another round with the pretentitron...and this time I'll try to take a little longer to completely lose my shit and kill the bastage.  Thanks for tuning in...right here at Writing About Writing!

Lt. Lambaste and The SciGuy Fire Up The Pretentitron

Right. I'm Lieutenant Lambaste.  I had a cousin named Slaughter who worked with an anti-terrorism group before going into wrestling, but he was never an officer, and I will not live in his shadow.  Before we even get started, I'd like to make something perfectly clear.  If any compliment you feel like you want to give me includes the words "...for a woman," I'll remind you that I carry a sidearm.

These people, and I, are badass.  Period.  Their bajingas do not factor into this equation.

I'll be guest blogging here on Writing About Writing the second Wednesday of every month where I will fire up The SciGuy's Pretentitron and provide some well needed balance to the convention defying that goes on around here at W.A.W. with my rocket launcher, flame thrower, machine gun, high pressure acid spray, biotoxin dart gun, buzzsaw hurler.

Six weapons....one trigger.  It's really quite spectacular.  Especially when it burns, cuts in half, poisons, melts, punctures and blows up some idiot who thinks they will become a great novelist by watching movies and reading comic books, or someone who thinks Virgina Woolf is "crap."

When I interviewed with Chris Brecheen, he said he really wasn't sure about a segment that seemed geared towards reinforcing some of the more parochial dogma about writing.  I pointed out that being successful in a world of gatekeepers involved learning whatever those gatekeepers thought was important, but he just started to go off on e-publishing and "other options" and something about how technology is changing everything in the modern world.  However, when I casually mentioned that "speaking of technological changes" I could easily use a laser pointer and my iPod Touch to coordinate an artillery strike on Writing About Writing's headquarters from an offshore carrier group, he immediately asked when I could start.

He's cute....in that "helpless-civie" kind of way.

So join us here each second Wednesday as The SciGuy revs up the Pretenitron and imprints the wave patterns of pretentiousness onto the brain of a teenage wannabe writer clone so that we can have a little chat with them.

Lt. Lambaste Victim #1: SFSU's Creative Writing Graduates
Meet the Swordpen
Lt. Lambaste vs Chris Brecheen
Lt. Lambaste on the Future of the Pretentitron
Lt. Lambaste vs. WTF???