sad little rubber froggie/inspiration from under a rock

the hit it or quit it editorial massif continues to hold it down in central HQ, making diagrams, grinding up smarties and snorting them, writing reviews as 1st person Lou Rawls, writing titles in their own handwriting and holding each others’ hands in a circle of friendship bonds whispering never broken, never broken. meanwhile, I am getting my solo primal scream on in the east coast office, aka my living room floor. It is not easy running this satellite ship dolo, emailing and phone-calling edits into the flagship office as necessary–but the rest of HIOQI’s NY branch is busy holding down jobs to pay their $9000 rent, autographing copies of their novels, representing at the new england book & librarian technical conf. or working at their part-time jobs taming wild seals in the prospect park zoo, or sitting in on a taping of the conan o’brien show.
Yes, I am alone, and my butt is aching bad from laptop-hunching on the hardwood. In this solitary editing blitz, however, I have discovered I work much faster when my wheels are greased by the ambient noise of movies I don’t care about on TBS, which I receive free of charge from Brooklyn Cable Access Television (BCAT). HENCELY, the east coast muse/corollary editorial staff member has inadvertantly become A PRE-XTIAN MEL GIBSON, because of TBS’ nightly airing of what women want A JILLION CONSECUTIVE TIMES, and since I have been editing for approximately 72 hours straight, barring breaks for jogs and thurrapy, I’ve seen it every time.
Now, you might find it a little suspect that half the final edits for america’s only feminist music magazine (inclusive of hip-hop and men) are filtered through the brain of a woman under the influence of a men are from mars, women are from venus plotted Helen Hunt vehicle, heavy on the gender imperatives–HOWEVER, I have actually found this incredibly helpful, and have been inspired to write a double review of Destiny Fulfilled and DJ Drama presents Lil Wayne Gangster Grillz as gender-war treatise, based around Mel’s line to Helen in the movie: “Your ex-husband made you think that just because you are who you are, you didn’t deserve to be loved.” I am not finished with the review, because I am still busy editing other peoples’ work, possibly even yours!, but it is so far 848 words long and I would say I’m approximately 1/3 of the way done.
the moral of this story is do not ever outright discount what you presume to be bad art, even if it is purveyed by crazy right-wing xtian homophobes. the other moral of the story is that even if it is inspiring, working on something you care about with the television is not even 1/942 thousajillianth as good as working on something you care about in person with people you love, even if the television was free and you aren’t even paying for cable.