cbishop

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Bits & Pieces

DateBits & PiecesViewRead the...
01/29/17-(Blog) (Forum)Disclaimer
RatingRating explanation
ESuitable for everyone.

This is just bits and pieces of writing that I either didn't finish, or wrote for someone else to use, and just needed a place to hold what I wrote. Enjoy as you will. -cb

Writing About Writing #1: Robin Williams and the Creative Process

I hate to sound all bandwagon here, about how tragic the death of Robin Williams is, but um...yeah, it is. Not because of the way he died, because hey, he killed himself- that's a little f***ed up. Not because of the family he left behind, because that goes without saying and I don't know them. Not because he was battling depression, because I can identify with that a little too closely, and dammit man that's not a road I want to travel down right this second. To me, the tragedy of Robin Williams' death is that sh*t, we lost his mind. That brilliant, wonderfully f***ing twisted mind. Just f***ing gone. Forever. We've lost the Einstein of Comedy. Yes, it's that f***ing big of a deal.

The guy that Billy Crystal called quick. The man that improvised sixteen hours of material for Aladdin, creating fifty-two characters for the genie during the movie. Which has to make you wonder: the movie was only ninety-one minutes long...how many characters were in the other eight hundred sixty-nine minutes? The man who took a woman's shawl during his interview on Inside the Actor's Studio, and improvised for three minutes and forty-six seconds, creating seven characters (eight if you count the bull) and told one joke about an Amish mechanic. That's an average of one new bit every twenty-eight and one-quarter seconds, (every twenty-five if you count the bull). That's f***ing insane. Insanely funny. And all that sh*t is gone.

I've been trying to process my thoughts on his death since I heard about it that night, and I don't know that I've completely sorted it out yet, but here I am tapping it out on the keys anyway. But I know what you're thinking: "What the f*** does this have to do with writing?" It's something he said on Inside the Actor's Studio (see that interview here). He said that creating comedy was like a drug for him- that he literally did it for the endorphin rush that he got from it. And man, I f***ing GET that!

***

to be continued. I'm too danged tired to continue. So I'll work on this some more after work (so in the morning). This is only the rough draft anyway.*

*Well, obviously, the continuation didn't happen. :}

Lyrics to "Major Tom (Coming Home)," by Peter Schilling

  • Standing there alone, the ship is waiting. "All systems are go. Are you sure?"
  • "Control is not convinced, but the computer has the evidence. No need to abort."
  • The countdown starts. Watching in a trance, the crew is certain. Nothing left to chance, all is working.
  • Trying to relax up in the capsule, "Send me up a drink," jokes Major Tom.
  • The count goes on. Four, three, two, one.
  • Earth below us, drifting, falling, floating weightless. Calling, calling home.
  • "Second stage is cut. We're now in orbit. Stabilizers up. Running perfect. Starting to collect requested data." What will it affect when all is done? thinks Major Tom.
  • Back at ground control: "There is a problem."
  • "Go to rockets full."
  • "Not responding."
  • "Hello, Major Tom, are you receiving? Turn the thrusters on. We're standing by."
  • There's no reply.
  • Four, three, two, one.
  • Earth below us, drifting, falling, floating weightless. Calling, calling home.
  • Across the stratosphere, a final message: "Give my wife my love." Then nothing more.
  • Far beneath the ship, the world is mourning. They don't realize he's alive.
  • No one understands, but Major Tom sees: now the light commands, "This is my home. I'm coming home."
  • Earth below us, drifting, falling, floating weightless. Coming home.
  • Earth below us, drifting, falling, floating weightless. Coming home.
  • Earth below us, drifting, falling, floating weightless. Coming, coming home. Home.

The first thing I did was cut out their eyes.

6-14-10

The first thing I did was cut out their eyes. Then I sliced off their skins with a steak knife. I did ten of them the same way, and the strangest thing is: not one of them ever screamed. Then I cleaned what was left and put the bodies in a small tub to soak. So, yeah, the potatoes are peeled.

Presidential speech written for a batkevin74 story. He combined parts of it with parts of dngn4774's.

"My fellow Americans, it is my sad duty to have to confirm for you that this great nation has been attacked. Within the last twenty-four hours, this country has lost two great men and leaders. President Kennedy was shot and killed by a lone gunman on a grassy knoll in Dallas, Texas before the eyes of the world. Tragically, this morning, under the cloak of darkness, just two hours after being sworn into office, President Johnson was shot and killed by a spy.

"The line of presidential succession next falls to me, and I have been sworn into office of President of these United States just four hours ago in secret before a Supreme Court Justice, the Cabinet, and President pro tempore of the Senate Carl Hayden, who was sworn in as Vice President at that same time.

"We do not believe these to be separate acts. We cannot believe in that much coincidence, nor will we. It would be foolish for us to ignore the fact that last October, President Kennedy stared down the Communist threat during the Cuban Missile Crisis, and less than one year later, not one but two presidents have been assassinated. This is a clear act of aggression and retaliation by the Soviets, and it will be met with like response.

"For years we have lived with the Communist threat in our back yard! We have allowed the wolves to stand at our very door! I say to you: no longer! Such attacks are a clear declaration of war against this country! If my first act of office must be as Commander-in-Chief, then so be it! I say it's time that our enemies learned why we are called the United States of America! I am ordering the combined might of the full U.S. military to strike against Cuba within the day!

"We have found ourselves once again facing one of our darkest hours. We will stand together! We will fight through the night! And when the new day dawns, we will see that Old Glory yet waves! God bless you all, God bless our fighting forces, and God bless America! Thank you."

Bullet Points

  • Bullet Points
  • -
  • You guys need to learn to have more faith in the lyrical
  • So sit back a minute- let me conjure up a miracle
  • The way it's a miracle that no one's killed you yet
  • Bring those weak rhymes to a battle and that's what you'll get
  • -
  • If this were a game, I'd say you'd get pwned
  • But this is a rap, so you get it with a microphone
  • I don't like to battle- freestyle's not my game
  • But I'll do it for awhile to make others smile at your shame
  • -
  • You can't just spit sh** and make it rhyme- that makes a weak joint
  • Freestyle takes a quick mind, but it still needs to have a point
  • Embarrass your opponent with the words that you say
  • Take 'em all down with a flow like a drive-by bullet spray
  • -
  • But me I don't know guns, ghettos, gangs or drugs
  • I didn't roll on streets that were ruled by thugs
  • I grew up in the suburbs, straight middle class
  • And yet my rhymes are still kickin' ass
  • -
  • Hear what I'm sayin'? I'm not playin'
  • Listen to my rhymes, 'cause I got the power for stayin'
  • That's why you're gettin' schooled by the CLB- it's true
  • The CLB is the club where the only thing missin' is U
  • -
  • Because you're stuck at the door, you can't get past the bouncer
  • I am the fighter, you can't make the ring as the announcer
  • I got skills like Muhammad Ali, but you bite like Mike Tyson
  • You're like a deer in the headlights and I've got my huntin' license
  • -
  • So "bop bop you get popped" in the words of T-Bone
  • So shut your traps, take those "raps" and get the hell home
  • Let me tip you like cattle so you quit actin' the fool
  • The next time you wanna battle, keep your wack ass in school
  • -
  • cbishop aka CLB 8-7-14

Bullet Points, Part 2

  • I'm really glad to know that a notepad's in your possession,
  • Because *ding* there's the bell, and class is now in session!
  • So sit down, grab a pen, and try to follow my lead
  • Wait, nevermind, we've already seen that you can't follow me.
  • -
  • The music be in you and it sings to the heavenly choir?
  • Nah, I killed you last rap, and now your soul's in the fire!
  • So "burn, baby, burn," that's just what you said-
  • Rap's like yours make me mourn, 'cause they're better off dead.
  • -
  • After all, that's pretty much just where they started-
  • They leave a bad smell behind like somebody sharted.
  • Or maybe that's the smell of your decomposition,
  • 'Cause you sure can't compose, so maybe you should listen:
  • -
  • Are you set? Are you ready? Then one, two, three...
  • Give it up, 'cause you suck, you can never beat me!
  • "Bling bling pow?" Check myself? You think you shot me?
  • I'm mothaf**kin' bulletproof! You can never say you got me!
  • -
  • I started rappin' in my teens, an' I was here when hip hop started.
  • Yeah, that makes me old, but that's when rap still had it's heart, kid.
  • When it was all just a bunch of guys having lots of fun,
  • Insteada "O.G's," and "forties," and "bitches" and "my gun."
  • -
  • I was jammin' to Run DMC, LL Cool J, and Whodini,
  • UTFO, Dougie Fresh, Beastie Boys and Dynmaic 3.
  • Even Grandmaster Flash, and Fat Boys of course!
  • And don't forget Africa Bombata and the Soulsonic Force!
  • -
  • So you see? Write this down: while you were on your mama's teet,
  • I was learning at the feet of the masters how to carry a beat!
  • Please learn to tell the difference between a prick and a mic, son,
  • And know that you don't have to suck every time you get on one!
  • -
  • cbishop 9/9/14

Batman vs. The Woman in White (part clipped from story)

Today: a warehouse owned by Two-Face, two blocks west of Crime Alley:

“Where is she? WHERE IS THE WOMAN IN WHITE?!” shouted Solomon Grundy, as he tore through a group of small time thugs. “Tell Grundy where she is!” The screams of the gang echoed through the quiet streets.

A warehouse owned by Two-Face, two blocks east of Crime Alley:

“Where is he? Where is the boy!” a woman screamed vengefully, her voice seeming to be everywhere at once. Men with guns drawn scanned all around them, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice.

“What’s going on here?” grunted one of the gunmen.

“What boy?” said another.

“Who the hell--”

BANG!

The third man was cut short by the gunblast, and went down. This sent the rest of the men scrambling for cover, and they spread out through the high rows of crates. A slow dance began to move throughout the warehouse- a shadow moves here, a gunburst there. Return fire. A scream, then quiet. Repeat. This had been going on for a few minutes when a menancing figure came crashing through the skylight.

“It’s the Bat!” screamed a thug, and gunfire came from all sides. Batman moved quickly, a series of batarangs disarming gunmen or rendering them unconscious. The few who didn’t get hit bolted for the exits, and Batman moved to give chase.

“No!” screamed a woman in white, jumping off a stack of crates and landing before him. “I need information from them!”

Batman unleashed a batarang at her gun, knocking the forty-five from her hand. “That’s not the way to get it!” he growled.

The gun stopped before it hit the floor, and came back to her hand. Batman’s eyes went wide behind his mask, but he wasted no time. He threw a punch, determined to take her down quickly, so she couldn’t interfere. His fist went through her rather than connecting, causing him to stumble through her as well, her form dissipating slightly, like a cloud, before reforming.

She threw punches in return, and Batman blocked them, now finding her solid, until he tried to punch or kick back. Then his attacks would pass through her again. “I don’t have time for this,” he growled.

“Neither do I!” she shouted. “They’ve got my boy!”

Batman stopped and looked at her, glowering. Turning to one of the downed thugs who was now stirring, he grabbed him up off the floor, leaned in his face, and shouted, “Where’s the boy?!”

Warehouse owned by Two-Face, two blocks west of Crime Alley:

Batman burst into the warehouse, closely followed by the woman in white. Thugs lay everywhere, and sitting in the middle of the floor, cradling the boy in his arms, was Solomon Grundy. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Grundy couldn’t save you,” he said to the woman.

“It’s okay, Cyrus. You saved my boy. It’s okay. Merry Christmas.” Looking to Batman, she said, “Thank you,” and her form dissipated into nothingness.

Grundy gave the boy to Batman and wandered away. Batman chose to call that a problem for later, tending to the boy instead.

Discarded interview answer, in favor of possible blog post

Okay, this answer is going to be long. It's a bit of a journey, but you can ultimately blame DC Comics for that. I was nine when they released their first "Dial 'H' For Hero"issue in Adventure Comics #479, and they made this cool offer: create a character that Chris King or Vicki Grant could turn into, and if they use it, you get an "I Dialed 'H' For Hero" T-shirt! Oh, man! I wanted one of those T-shirts so bad! So I started creating characters.

At first, they were knockoffs. Instead of Superboy, I made "Superlad" with the spitcurl turned the opposite direction. Instead of Kid Flash, I stole his New Teen Titans nickname, and made "Flasher" with his costume colors reversed. Instead of Wonder Girl in the red costume with yellow stars, I made Wonder Boy in a blue costume with yellow stars... I didn't really understand the differences between men and women at that point, so his costume was the same as Donna's which in retrospect didn't look right on him. I even started making knockoffs of the characters that were being used in "Dial 'H' For Hero." The one that comes immediately to mind is The Emerald Tiger. I made a Ruby Tiger, Yellow Tiger, and probably a few others. Eventually, I started making my own characters, and that never stopped. My current list of characters is probably ten to fifteen thousand long. Some are derivative, some are original, and they span most genres.

Still, while I was creating all those I was still reading comics, and imagining the stories I'd like to see- more with DC than with Marvel, but there were a few there too. What fan doesn't do that? That led to the Nineties. I was a little late to the Internet, but it was a Savage Dragon messageboard and fan-fic that brought me here. I devoured the stuff. If you were part of a fan-fic site back then, I probably read your stuff. When I realized anyone could post their stories online, I started putting together my fan-fic ideas. I had a really massive generational DC fan-fic I wanted to write, and I put a lot of hours into the notes on that.

Somewhere in all those hours, Image Comics happened, and I decided that it would be better to put my time and energy into original characters that I could own. So I adapted most of my fan-fic ideas for original characters that would retell the same stories I had in mind. That eventually morphed into more original ideas. There were still some ideas I wanted to explore though that were only suited to copyrighted characters. Things like Bruce Wayne becoming a Crow. Sure, I could make derivative equivalents that I own, but no, I really want to play that idea out.

I shared some of my fan-fic ideas with others online. Some of those ideas stolen, passed around, and a few wound up in actual DC comics. The most notable is a vampire biting Superman. My idea was for a vampire to bite him, but then burn up from the inside out, because of all of the solar energy in Superman's cells. After I shared that face-to-face with someone I knew had worked with DC, it showed up in a Superman title. I was livid at first. For that huge generational DC fan-fic I had in mind, one of the big I-know-this-will-be-cool-to-readers moments was that scene. Now that it had shown up in a DC Comic, my fan-fic was ruined as far as I was concerned.

For over a decade, I quit sharing my ideas, jealously guarding them against further infringement. I certainly didn't share my original characters! By the time I got to CV though, I started changing my mind.

.Ring announcement for Batman Vs Darth Vader. [Batkevin74 approved!] :)

Get yer tickets folks! Step right up for the fight of the sinch-cheryyy!

Dark Side versus Dark Knight! Sith versus Myth! Hurry, hurry, hurryyyy!

It's the best team-up you could dream up: the Dust Up on the Deathstarrrrrrr!

Ladies and gentlemen. Sentients and aliens of alllll racessss!

Let's...get ready...to rummmmb<urk>...

<announcer choked out by Force, a teleporter hums, and the fight is on>

Hellboy vs. The X Files

Batkevin' shared this pic on Facebook, November 25th, 2017, and I wrote the bit that follows.

No Caption Provided

The Smoking Man dropped his cigarette at his feet and stubbed it out under his shoe. "I can't help you," he said to Mulder. "The B.P.R.D. is off limits."

"The B.P.R.D.?" repeated Fox. "What's that?"

"I can't help you!" shouted the spook as he walked away. "Don't pursue this, Agent Mulder! You won't like what you find!"

"I never do," the agent whispered, the Smoking Man too far away to hear him.

Thanks for reading! -cb :^D
All stories, original characters and content are owned by Chris Bishop. Copyright Chris Bishop 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022.
Characters owned by others are used in a fan-fic capacity and/or by permission, and I don't dispute their ownership.
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