Max: What If?

After reading my writings people often ask, "Have you considered having your medication adjusted?" After that, some will ask, "Where do you get your ideas from?" Of course, the answer is that I subscribe to a service. While I can let you know some general facts about the service, I can't go into detail. The service is invitation only. Also, they are a bit stingy with information about themselves. I know that they have been around a long time and that they investigate a potential subscribers long before they invite them join - or even let them know they exist. Once invited, one is given an extensive questionnaire about one's area of endeavor, though I suspect they already know the answers. Once the completed questionnaire is returned, one starts getting ideas in the mail. Each packet is divided into two parts. One part is ideas expressly conceived for the individual subscriber, the other is ideas rejected by other subscribers that may be of interest. I don't know if it says something about the service - or my fellow subscribers - but I find the best ideas are almost always in the latter part.

Of course the above is pure bullshit. When it comes down to it, no creative person really knows where his ideas come from. At least not completely. I know most of my ideas come, at least in part, from asking one simple question, "What if?" I look at a situation or concept and something in my brain decides to turn it on its side. "What if?" For instance, earlier tonight and for no particular reason I was thinking about the Eagles. I remember once reading that back in the 70's critics often complained that in concert the members of the band would "loiter onstage." That is, they would play their instruments and sing, but not do much else. They were musicians, not showmen. Personally, I don't care whether a band puts on an elaborate show or just plays they hell out of their songs so long as they are giving me a good show one way or the other. But for some reason, in my pointless reverie about the Eagles, I asked myself, "What if they did more than 'loiter' onstage?" Suddenly, I was laughing at pictures of hippie, country rock musicians dancing around onstage in their flannel and denim.

Okay, maybe I do need to have my medication adjusted.

Sometimes, like tonight, the answer to "What if?" leads to little more than an amusing thought. Other times, it can lead to a story. It took more than one round of "What if?" to find my way to "Untitled". It started back when Warren Ellis was hosting a web forum. At some point, the members of the forum were discussing some comic book writers who happened to subscribe some sort of pagan/wiccan religion. One person posted a comment along the lines of, "There is nothing worse than people who use some screwy religion as an excuse to indulge in excess sex and drugs." Of course he was using hyperbole when he said that there is "nothing worse". But I decided to play on it in my response. Of course the answer to "What if there was something worse than this writers religion?" is obvious. At least to me. I know many would disagree, but I generally don't lose sleep over the fact that other people view religion differently that I do. The real "What if?" was "What if I fought hyperbole with hyperbole?" From that question came what was the be the start of "Untitled". I responded, "There is nothing worse? What about having your testicles nailed to a table and then being forcibly felated by a rabid mongoose. I would think that would be worse."

Nothing much more came of that until one day I was called into my then manager's office. Up until that point, I had received nothing but glowing praise for my performance. I expected the same again. I was wrong. I was reamed for not fulfilling certain job standard that seemed to have nothing to do with my actual job - standards that I had not been previously unaware. I left his office pissed off. My anger led to "What if someone was literally reamed for failing to live up to some idiotic performance standard?" As I ran that through my mind, I remembered the post I had made at Warren Ellis's forum. I decided that it had happened to my character. Of course, that led to "What if he got some and she did not react well to his missing testicles?" The situation begged to be in some sort of sci fi situation. These events would be headline news in our world. I wanted them to be everyday occurrences in my character's world. Sci Fi and missing testicles led to the testosterone generator, the visor and most of the rest of the set dressing.

Of course this all begs the question, "Why was the whole nailed testicle and rabid mongoose thing the answer to my 'What if?' in the first place." There are any number of ways to shock, to exaggerate. Why that? While your friendly neighborhood Freudian might have an answer, I don't. All I really know is that sometimes I look at a situation and my mind decides to twist it around. Maybe it is a form of mental illness - a controlled schizophrenia. Lord know that when I really get into a story, it becomes way more real that what is going on around me.

All I know is, when it comes down to it, I don't know.