Except for the fact that I’m not a Mormon. Like not even a little bit…and I think it’s mostly because they refuse to talk to me on a regular basis. This is probably going to come out racist (Fuck, that’s a great way to make sure people aren’t going to be offended, Tom, you giant troll bird, you’ve just uttered an equivalent of I’m not racist, but…genius) and you may think less of me as a result, but it’s because the Mormons only talk to Asians. So really it’s the Mormons being racially selective and I’m just noticing it.
Seriously though this isn’t me falling into line and participating in Australia’s other favourite past-time. I am genuinely noticing a strange pattern with the Mormons who situate themselves in and around my building. So there’s my wicked-sick-apartment-building, complete with insects of dubious origin and function, and just down the road is another wicked-sick-building, also complete with its own breed of insects of dubious origin and function (read: this is where the Mormons sleep…gestate…whatever they do behind closed doors that doesn’t involve knocking on them to ask if you would like to hear about the role God has for you in the grand scheme of things. I’ll give you a hint it’s probably not whatever you’re doing now). All jokes aside, there is actually a church-base-of-operations near my place and I constantly spy suspiciously happy, young American (AGAIN WITH RACISM, GEEZUS TOM!) men wandering around with their names proudly displayed like sexy flags on their breasts.
However they never want to spread the word of God to me. Or anyone who happens to hail from Europe, Africa, India or is of Islander descent. In fact the most you’ll get out of them from is a polite hello. Which, when you consider the genus of Mormonia, is down right cold. Rude even. On the other hand they practically fall over themselves trying to convert a lovely girl who’s recently migrated here from say…Hong Kong. Or the tall fellow who wears a really cool Evangelion shirt that I’m jealous of…who’s also from Japan. I’m not sure why. But the only people the Mormons seem to be interested in is the Asian race. Why? I’m not a totally sure, but all I will say is that it unsettles me and I don’t trust Mormons as far as I could throw them (and I’m pretty weak, but they look easy to take…if only they didn’t move in herds…or packs…or hives?). Basically I’m a feeling LEFT OUT YO! Also if anyone reading this actually knows why Mormons would be so focussed on such a select group of people…let me know. Please.
What I mean when I say that I am exactly like Stephanie Meyer is that I am not really like her at all.
I am not a woman. So that’s gone. We’ve already established I’m not a Mormon (whether that’s by choice or due to lack of opportunity remains to be seen). I have also not published a hit series of novels aimed at teenagers that were secretly aimed at scary middle-aged woman who are turned on by teenagers being all topless and shit (because FUCKING DOUBLE STANDARDS MEANS I GET ARRESTED FOR STAKING OUT A ONE DIRECTION CONCERT…or it’s the moustache. Definitely the ‘stache) but that mostly made a lot of people angry at the pussiest portrayal of vampires ever and gave Kristen Stewart far too much attention for someone of such limited acting/emotional/anything capability. So that’s missing too. Nor am I rich.
I can see the look on your face already. The look that says: Tom. You said you were exactly like Stephanie Meyer and yet you have systematically proven (so far) that you are not really like her at all. What the fuck are you playing at?
Firstly you are very good at adding a lot of complexity to your looks. Kudos to you. Most of mine just either highlight my lack of focus or that I’m either gassy/drunk/hungry or a combination of the three. And secondly I mean in terms of musicality. Meyer has made no secret that her writing was inspired by Muse (the fact that the band takes its name from the Greek goddesses of inspiration is actually awesome), in fact so much so that the guys appear on the soundtrack of many of the films (if not all). If you think I’m making this shit up, it’s in her acknowledgements. Like page negative-one, before the prologue and the teen angst starts.
So what have I found myself doing lately? Being inspired by Muse. Maybe I’m late to the party. Maybe everyone else is already writing magnum opie (plural of opus?) brought about by the musical trio. Whatever. I’m doing it now. And it’s proving to be very helpful. I’ve never really found inspiration from music with my writing, yes I write almost always listening to music but generally it’s just for ambience and so that I don’t have to listen to the obnoxious dickhead on my train talk loudly about his KIA costing $275 to repair after he reversed into a pole (not made up, literally heard this and memorised it…my life is so much cooler than yours because of this). However this is the second time a piece of music has struck me in such a way that I was compelled to write something, or at least a framework of something thanks to its aural magic.
The song is Supremacy. It’s from The 2nd Law. And it rocks. It has an absolute killer refrain and riff running through it and it makes me want to write a story about guns and burning buildings and a whole bunch of re-imagined vikings starting a crime war. Or something. Anyway here is the song below. If you disagree with my view that it rocks, that’s okay. You’re allowed to have your own opinion…even if it is blatantly wrong.
I said this is the second instance, and I feel like I need to give credit where credit is due and highlight the other piece of music I’ve been using to inspire my writing. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club are great. They have great hooks and catchy melodies and they just sound like the musical equivalent of bacon. They are currently supplying (indirectly and without their knowledge) to my writing process for a genre piece about a cowboy who sells his soul and then tries to literally outrun hell on the back of a motorcycle. Fuck yeah. The song doing most of the inspiring is Beat The Devil’s Tattoo. It’s delicious. CHECK OUT IT’S COOLNESS.
Anyway, I enjoyed this musical journey. Perhaps I should make an unofficial soundtrack to some of my writings. Maybe I’ll do that. Or maybe I’ll play some more Pokemon. You’re not the boss of me! STOP MAKING ME DO THINGS!