Suffrin' Suffragettes!

I apologize. Two days late, but:

Aug 18, 1920 -- 85 years ago -- the Nineteenth Amendment was passed, giving women the vote. Add that to Blacks only getting full voting rights in most of this country just 35-40 years ago ...

... huh. Is this progress? Is it encouraging that the curve/rise is so steep, or a depressing reminder that what most people have as their mental bookmark of what modern society is ... hasn't been? One of the foundations of fundamentalism, of course is pining for a past which never actually existed ... gah, can;t quite wrap my head around where this post is going.

Bit of a mixed bag, eh?

Not to self: Don't read Tom Holland's Rubicon when considering historical posts. Being immersed in Roman Republican timelines smears your perception.

Note to you: Read it. Bloody amazing.

Nanotubes, VHS and the Discman

In the same three days:

University of Texas scientists (the irony grows too thick, my friends) have come up with a fast, practical way to produces sheets of nanotubes. Transparent, electrically conductive sheets stronger than industrial steel -- I assure you, although you may believe this is just me geeking out, this is the Big One.

Bill over at DISC/ontent reminds us that as of 2006, VHS is quite literally dead. My VCR is officially legacy-tech.

However, the new "Low End Technology" column at Gizmodo reminds us the Discman refuses to go away.

The Face of the CPR Dummy ...

... you know, "Anne" the artificial respiration dummy, is actually taken from the famous death mask of an unknown 19th Century drowning victim. Your wierd fact today courtesy of Screenhead.

Home-Schooling

You know, we joke about the compound here, but our compound is for our post-apocalyptic good. After peak oil and a few flu pandemics, you will find yourself, strolling out of the Ross Richie Memorial Comic Book Preservation Vault, nodding judiciously and saying "Verily, John's obsession with hy-grid energy and canned goods was worthwhile, as we are still playing World of Warcraft* on wind-powered LAN networks, while the howls of the under-people echo off our environmentally sustainable wall-spikes." It's an empowerment compound. We encourage our younglings to go off and form satellite compounds nearby. And, if the tomato crop is thin again this year, may well mandate it.

I'd heard about Dominionists, of course (that Wikipedia article is remarkably fair-minded. I am less so). The whole Patriarch movement I'd seen creeping around also. But I'd never really paid it mind -- and so never really dropped a mental stone into the Patriarch mine-shaft to see how far it fell -- until World O'Crap broke out a big examination of movement bigwig Philip Lancaster's latest essay.

I'm not even going to try ... just read it.

The incredible mix of personal hubris and societal intolerance here is ... it is fucking MAGNIFICENT. I could not imagine talking with someone like this -- even polite elevator conversation -- for more than three seconds before the sheer force of The Crazy physically forced me back, like an overpressure blast. Seriously. Wow.





*(Why are WoW servers still functioning? Because the Chinese took them over completely in 2011.)

Another Soldier in the Army of the Word

Josh Friedman, another working screenwriter and the credited co-writer of War of the Worlds (you heard me) blogs in a much pithier manner about his career. Less pedantic, more anecdotal, and without all the annoying political and tech snark. Go check out I find your lack of faith disturbing.

Neck-punches, people ...

... a bag full of them. A letter from a veteran to the arrogant, narrow-minded, terrified -- terrified that the world ain't the way he thinks, and so he lashes out like a dumb animal -- little scumfuck who ran down the memorial crosses in Crawford the other day.

GI Spy

Almost forgot -- issue #1 of Andrew Cosby's GI SPY comic is out this week. Boom! Studios continues their straight-out-of-the-gate winning streak. (Reviews here. Buy it online here.)

It's a fresh take on the WW II spy genre, gyrocopters, Nazi super-soldiers and crashed UFO's -- slamming Indiana Jones straight into Bond ... with Albert Einstein as Q. For that idea alone, Cosby inches even higher on my "talented Enough to Kill" list.

Donatorium

#2 of your thrice monthly poke.

The Army Emergency Relief Fund helps soldiers and families of soldiers in financial need. With something like 40% of Iraq forces made up of Reservists + brutal stop-loss policies, there are thousands of families out there with a loved one downrange and fucking bill collectors at the door.

Me, angry? There's a gym-bag full of neck punches waiting for some suited shits in Washington as far as I'm concerned, but let's focus on doing something constructive.

The reason I'm asking for donations here rather than directly to the AER is so I can track the amount, as I will MATCH what you people kick in. Find an entry or link on the site amusing, kick in a buck. Think I'm a self-righteous hack windbag ... write a BIG check and strip me of my ill-gotten gains!

Oddly, although we're on pace for a private goal (I'll reveal it on the last day of the month), we're doing so because we're getting a mix of bigger donations with the micro-donations. As much as I appreciate those, I'd much prefer to see more one and two dollar donations. The whole idea here is simple -- find one thing on this blog you dig that wasn't here last month, kick in four quarters. Find that this has become part of your daily read, kick in four quarters -- for the whole month.

Thanks, as always, for reading and commenting. Thanks for digging silver out of the couch for people far, far better than I.

Look it Up

Thanks to Pharyngula for slapping me down as one of his Blogs o' the Week. We're a team out here in Rationality Land. People like he and Orac bring the hard science research experience, facts and figures, coherent arguments, and I bring the load of populist whoop-ass snark. Shit, does that make me the Terry O'Riley of this discussion?

There'll be some further subdivisions of the sidebar soon, and you'll see both those sites leading off the "Science" category. Do your self a favor and check 'em out.

Writing: Agents & Managers

I've received several questions in e-mails (and do keep them coming) along with a prod from Alex Epstein about:

"John: What's the difference between an agent and a manager? You say you have both. Does a writer need a manager?"

I'm not about to tell anyone what percentages of their income they need to give up to work in Hollywood. I'll just tell you my experience. Take what you find useful.

In California, there is actually a legal difference between being a manager and an agent. One is forbidden from being both a manager and an agent. The bare-bones difference between the two, as defined by my manager of 14 years, Will Mercer:

"A manager is legally forbidden from procuring work for his client. Agents are bound by SAG rules and some pretty heavy regulations. Your first contract with an agent can be no longer than one year, renewable at no more than three year terms after that ... They can't charge more than %10 commission."

(I'm sure Craig at Artful Writer could lay out all the specifics far better than I. He's a whiz at the fine-print stuff. And big congrats on the movie, Craig!)

My definition, when sober:

"An agent helps your CAREER. A manager helps YOUR career."

My definition, when drunk:

"You call your agent when you need work. You call your manager when you have a dead hooker in the bathtub of your Kentucky motel room."

Now, agencies in Hollywood are franchises. To dip into Freakonomics a moment, their entire value comes from an information inequality. Their job is to know who needs what work done, and to also know who is available for that work. They are powerful networking bases. They trade on knowing what others do not. ("Where did you hear James Cameron is directing Aquaman?") When my agency (insert evil booming laughter here) CAA is informed that a project of level X needs humans to accomplish it, they can whip out various level X writers, directors, producers, actors, to vie for the job. We writers, directors, etc., are far too busy actually making shit to know about every opportunity that comes down the pike. The agency's business is to know these things. By doing good jobs of brokering that information to desirable talent, they can then aid the studios, in a beautifully symbiotic relationship, in acquiring the interest of said talent. They will endeavor (whoops, forgot, not allowed to use that word) to put as many humans from their agency onto the same project -- juggling the relationships and value of said talent in a truly byzantine yet lyrical manner called packaging.

So within the current system, one of the benefits of being a CAA client is that CAA has many other desirable clients. When a studio approaches CAA to gain the services of say, a director, this in theory gives me an inside track on getting the writing gig. Maybe the agency hooks the director and I up for a casual chat, so the director (having fallen for my pitch and waifish charms) will be inclined to toss me out as his writer of choice while meeting the studio: or perhaps we've already met, been hooked up a few times by the agents during the course of client maintenance meetings. Or maybe I just know about the gig a week earlier than everybody else, and can get my better-developed pitch out there just a smidge faster.

There are dozens of variations. I'm occasionally called in to meet with young directors who have ideas for movies but no idea of what an actual script outside of "Buy this car!" looks like. I'll be sent books represented (or even just tracked) by the literary department with the first run at adapting them. I meet with newbie writers all the time to help them in developing their ideas. When a project currently being written or directed by another client goes awry, I may get the ninth-inning reliever call.

Within the system itself is your own, individual agent. I have one for television, one for film. There's such a vast volume of information to be mastered in Hollywood production right now, that division is par for the course. My agent's job is to know my swing. What I'm good at, what I like to do -- what executives like me, and who I pissed off just that one time too many. Agents regularly attend meetings where info-dumps of projects occur. Their job is to look at it and say "My lad John's good for that." Or, if I've got something already in the development pike "That script's one of ours, keep an eye on it." For more powerful clients, they will put out that the client's looking for X, and what's out there that we can bring him?

My agents will sing my praises and downplay my failings. They will yell at executives or coo softly, as needed. They are the ones calling and asking where the goddam money for that rewrite is.

When I was pitching GF, it was my TV agent who knew another client had a deal for production at the studio, and we could partner up, solving several economic issues. Couldn't have done it without him.

For this prodigious amount of career wrangling, they take a paltry %10 of your income.

So what do you need a manager for?

Let's take my agents. I can honestly say they've been absolutely brilliant bastards for me for my entire Hollywood career. They've fought for me, hustled for me, listened to my rants and educated themselves about alternate media, covered my ass when I needed the extra week -- they've maximized every dime's worth of whatever talent I have. I will be with both of them until I retire. I'm damn lucky to have them. Although I must say, UTA does send a lovely fruit basket.

But they, and every other agent in Hollywood, have many other clients. Many. I have heard estimates that most agents at large companies carry 40-60 clients. If an agent spent just five minutes on the phone with each client every day, it would eat up around 5 HOURS A DAY. Never mind their actual job of hunting down network and studio execs, producers, reading scripts and coverage, etc.

Also, the brutal truth is, in an agency of any size, there will be a slightly higher-earning/more valuable client in competition with you for the same job. Or, there will be a slightly cheaper, easier-to-sell client in competition with you.

No matter how good the company, the agency's agenda comes first. And, God bless them, they will lie to your face about that.

This is what a manager's for. There are a lot of ways of putting this, but ... your manager's got your back. Your manager's agenda is your agenda. I've watched Will, with all good humor, call bullshit on his clients' agents, and have the agents cop to it. He maintains the same contacts, tracks the same info the agencies do -- but does it all with a much narrower focus in mind.

Will is fairly atypical; he is, in my opinion, the best manager in LA. Period. But I'll try to illustrate through example. Back when I was writing on Cosby, Will heard that Sony was looking to develop an animated Jackie Chan show. I'd never written animation. Never had any interest in writing animation. But Will knew I was a Chan freak. He called me, I lost my shit. He called the Sony execs he knew, they were receptive. He contacted my agent at the time -- who understandably had no idea about my specific interest in Jackie Chan films -- to set the meeting.

And the agency hesitated. Not at all unjustifiably -- this, after all, was an animated show. I was bucking for producer in my third year at Cosby and looking at a development deal worth, well, what development deals used to be worth in those days. The fee for writing and developing the Jackie Chan animated show was barely better than I'd make doing a couple corporate one-nighters as a stand-up. Considering the time it would take to develop the show, write the pilot, write the show bible and then plot out the first season, it was a ferociously inefficient use of my time.

Will would not be put off. He knew working with a Jackie was a dream project of mine. He pressed on, and made the meetings happen.

Jackie Chan Adventures, of course, wound up breaking some big-ass ground for Kid's WB. It's run 5 years and 90-odd episodes (we did one bonus 39 ep run for the weekday afternoon strip). My tiny "per episode" fee for creating the show turned out to be ... productive. I'll be the first to say, all I did was create the characters, write the pilot and set the show up with Duane Capezzi and young Dave Slack. They carried on all the heavy lifting for the next five years as I moved on to other projects.

But the fallout was prodigious. Besides the unexpected monetary bump, my work experience with Jackie (and, oddly, the doomed Mage movie) led me to a rewrite gig on Rush Hour 2 and the first draft of Rush Hour 3. My job on both led to other, bigger projects. Culturally, I'm quite sure nothing I'll ever do will match the impact of that show. I hadn't seen my nephew in five years -- the first thing he and his little sister asked when they met me was whether Jade was a real girl.

All because Will paid attention while I ranted about the latest bootlegs I'd picked up on Times Square.

When I have an idea for a project, my manager's the guy I give the first pass to. "Is it TV? Is it a movie? Is it a miniseries? Who do you need to have an annoying lunch with? Where do you want to be five years from now, and what do we need to do right now to get on that path?" Managers are now the guys who read all the drafts of the script. Managers know when to give notes. They know when not to give notes, because you love that goddam bit, and there's no use being the one to try to kill it just yet. They're one more phone call, one more set of extended relationships at your service, one more thread in the web. What, another person calling to get you work is going to hurt you somehow?

Will manages some stand-ups -- he's the one who listens to their stories, helps them craft those stories into a viable show pitch, and then hones that pitch before presenting it to the agencies (and then on to the networks). I've had ideas for projects that my agents, well, have done their job on -- they've told me which ones are marketable, which ones need to wait a while. My manager keeps poking me about the ones that are put on the shelf, keeping them alive, helping me find the angle that'll get it sold. A good manager doesn't just advise you on what jobs to take; he also tells you what jobs to say no to. Often, when you're skint, the manager's will-power is the only thing keeping you from taking the gig you'll regret. An agent will pitch you for the gig, and if you're not hired move on. The manager will crack open the seams of projects and companies, finding the weird little job-match to hook you up. The manager's job is to often see that the low-paying gig is a possible high-paying gig in disguise.

(This is all, remember, because I have the best manager in Hollywood. To say your mileage will vary is a fucking understatement. Will also does talent-management-type duties which most writers just won't get from their managers.)

Now, as Will's explained it, all that used to be the agent's job. But as agencies became information brokers and packaging companies, managers assumed those duties.

What does this mean for you? It's a bit tricky. Management companies vary in size of boutique tiny to corporate size. (Personally, I think once a management company hits a certain size they can;t help but shift to "our agenda first" mode, but that's me).

Agent-hives can also swing between the small-yet-useful to the mega-malls of talent dotting Wilshire. If you're scrambling for your first representation, then I know, you want -- hell, need -- to jump at the first people who respond to your work. But to me, the trick here is to really, really be pro-active about your relationship with your representation. If someone want to act as your agent or manager, ask to meet in their office. Ask about their other clients. ASK TO TALK TO OTHER CLIENTS. If the person gets huffy, then don't do it. I talk to prospective clients for both my manager and agent all the time.

Most importantly, discuss what specific short-term goals you have, and what the possible game plan is for achieving them in this person's eyes. This is good. You want to show -- and only in Hollywood do I have to point out the value of this -- you are an active partner in developing your own damn career. If the very hot agent at the very big agency isn't actually going to put any effort into pushing you, then, well, you're just deadweight for a year. Some agent with a plan at a smaller agency is a better idea.

For me, having a manager -- the right manager -- is the single reason I'm doing reasonably well in Hollywood. I can present only anecdotal evidece; but when drinking with other writers, and bitching about rough surfaces in the career, I usually find myself shrugging and saying "my manager helped me out with that." If you find someone who you like and trust enough, who appears to be able to help you in concrete ways achieve your goals, then I say don't choke on the extra 5% commission. It's 5% of more income than you'd have without them. On the other hand, if you don't feel you need that extra input, then soldier on with just the agent. Most writers do.

For both agents and managers, set concrete goals for the near-future. Review the progress. Consider how/if this person's made your life easier. Listen, kids, the dirty little secret -- and I know this is hard for you spec-monkeys, chasing your first rep -- but the dirty little secret to remember is that these people ... work for you. Oh, it's always a chuckle and an eye roll when I mention this at CAA, but it's the truth. (Actually, at CAA they taser me and then lock me in the Shame Place. But that's CAA) Even as you strive to do the best creative work you can, make sure you actively put together the best team, with the best chemistry, you can.

As always, this is vocation and avocation. The better the suited-humans you're partnered with, the more you can focus on the creative stuff -- confident the nasty paperwork is being tackled and the next opportunity lined up by your team-mates.

Pres Vacation Watch - Day 16

Bush Vacation Day*: 16
American Soldiers Killed While Kickin' It in Crawford: 54

Bush Days on Vacation Remaining: 18
Every Other Working American Has Been Back on the Job for*: 3 days




* (assuming Aug 2 as first full day of vacation)

*(based on 13 avg. days of vacation, courtesy World Tourism Organization)

We're Going to Need a Bigger Cult Compound

The problem with this, of course, is now I have to whack one guy, no questions asked, if Wolcott summons me. Dammit.

(and yes, I know it's a scam. But sometimes, it's nice to get a little love, even from dubious sources. Like when you wind up talking to that spam-phoning mortgage broker about his difficult divorce. It's post-singularity, people, and still a little shaky for even the hipsters)

"You're having the kosher meal, Mr. Batson?"

From Axiom, nothing more or less than pictures of a plane being struck by lightning in mid-flight. Posted only because it ate up a good five minutes of drug-induced staring.

For Me, the Attraction of Being Gay ...

... was the cessation of those annoying "When are you having kids?" questions. And these days, you don't even get that. Assuming you stay within a waist size, you also get twice the wardrobe, but otherwise -- feh. Might as well stay straight.

Jason at Positive Liberty has a nice rebuttal for someone writing to him, beseeching him to forsake t3h GaY.

(via Pandagon)

Body & Soul

One of the pleasures of the World Wide Web is, of course ... porn. Perverse, pituitary shredding porn --

-- no. What I meant to say is that you can find a wonderful site, wander away for a while, and then stumble back across it, like an favorite pub in a town you visit rarely. That's the pleasure. Ahem.

Jeanne at Body and Soul writes about feminism, politics and race with a quiet grace which always makes me slightly embarrassed at the density of my polysyllabic rants. Where I don't ever think you can strip the hostility -- or at the very least desperation -- out of much of my writing, Body and Soul's tone is always thoughtful, passionate, but never losing itself to the wild excesses of rage which temper my choler. Or color my temper. I'll be adding it to the blogroll on the weekiend update.

Hybrids and Hypotheses

Ross Richie from Boom! Studios, in order to cheer me up as I ride the percoset smoothie, sent me a link to this CNN story. Car hackzors are tweaking the Prius, adding a plug-in technology to get in the vicinity of 250 miles per gallon. Toyota itself just kicked out some promo on its new concept car, the Fine-N -- a fuel cell/battery hybrid. (via Treehugger) Sure, for now just a concept -- but the Prius was just a conecept car less than a decade ago.

I drove the last model Prius for two years, and have driven the 2005 model since March. The first Prius was the best car I've ever owned ... until the second. The hatchback Prius won a slew of awards from car magazines, and I can honestly say that while the old Prius felt a little half-steppy (and was undeniably a compact), this new one is just a straight-out fine automobile. The fact I spent barely over $200 bucks on gas -- living in LA no less -- for the all of 2004 was a sweet kicker.

I'm constantly hearing how there's no economic advantage to owning a hybrid over the course of the car's lifespan. Well, bullhockey. I don't doubt that number's technically correct, but I believe it's the wrong metric.

First, what you really want to look at is the effect on your actual monthly living expenses. The Prius is no more expensive than cars in its class, so its monthly payments will be equivalent. When you factor in how much less you're paying per month on gas, that seriously changes the amount of actual cash-out-of-hand we're talking about.

Second, we're not really comparing the Prius to other cars in its class. The relevant meta-comparison is to the SUV's which flood our roads now. THOSE are the vehicles that need replacing, both for safety's sake and our dependence on foreign oil. When you do that comparison, it's not even close. My car only (?!) gets twice the mileage as a friend with a comparable compact -- it gets FOUR TIMES the milage of the SUV's the majority of my friends drive.

Third, most people are unaware that the Prius is super-low emissions rated. This creates an overlooked cascade effect. The longer a hybrid spends in its battery-driven mode, at low speed, the longer it has zero emissions. Cars spend longer times at low speed in heavy urban areas and highway gridlock scenarios. Essentially, the worse the traffic, the greater the comparitive benefit of the hybrid's pollution profile. The cities that need the help the most would automatically get the greatest benefit.

Kevin Drum recently quoted (and no, I'm way too stoned to track it down) a study which re-iterated that there's no "real" advantage to buying a hybrid. It's only just as convenient -- so if you're driving a hybrid, you're doing it for some other reason than financial incentive.

That made me think: what a perfect example of just how fucking useless as a society we've become. We can't even bring ourselves to do the right thing when it's only JUST as convenient as doing the wrong thing. And that's not even considered odd. Even sadder.

To tell the truth, I think Toyota's done a shit job of marketing the Prius/hybrid idea. The fact I still need to explain, several times a week, that I don't need to plug in my car is just ridiculous. I understand that's about to change, and I look forward to the new PR push.

However, all this is related to larger issues we as a people have with technology. It's all about the grand gesture -- Bush promises to dump billions into the hydrogen economy, which is still decades away. The Space Shuttle should have been retired or evolved away ten years ago minimum, but we needs our bipeds in space. Our biggest threat now is loose nukes, but we spend pennies on that while pissing money up a rope to build our magical missile defense space shield. Don't even get me started on "Mars, bitches!"

Note that I'm not saying we should stop spending money on those other projects (well, missile defense at the very least needs a vicious, thorough project review, but that's another rant) -- what I'm saying is that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. A coherent, grown-up use of science in public policy will include the things we can do today, not just the things we want to accomplish in ten years. But there's no fun in that. Just realism.

This may even be related (or, might be the drugs talking) to a deeper disconnect in our society between everyday life and science as it's perceived. Science -- particularly as it's taught in high school -- is presented as a rarified world/skill set to which one a certain few need apply. This mindset supports the whole "duelling experts" theory, which flourishes simply because most people don't apply their own common sense to the science they read about. They simply shrug and move on.

But all science is no more than streamlined common sense. It's a toolbox, a way of thinking. That's the beauty of the scientific method -- anyone can make a hypothesis, test it, compare the results. It's both elegant and ruthless. The scientific method is the original open-source code. A great number of the current scientific "controversies" would disappear when explained simply, and the available proof shown. Of course, in science as in so many other things, some people's careers depend on making an issue appear more complex than it actually is.

We need to change the way we think of "Science" -- capitol-S the mysterious realm of geniuses and experts -- and start as a society valuing "science" -- small-s the method of using reason to examine and understand the world around us.

Quick Note

After they cut a four inch hole in your side, rearrange your guts and send you home the same day, the sweet nurse who swears "you'll be up and a bout in two days" is a lying whore.

Sorry, that's the percoset talking. Anyway, I'll be off another day or two, then address the manager vs, agent question, some rewrite advice, and hopefully have some cool comic news for you.

In the meantime, peruse the links. Check out Latigo Flint in particular, all his archives. Genius-ity.