Call To Arms AKA Last Chance To Man The Eff Up

Twenty-one days, people.  Twenty-one days 'til it's over.  The world.  All of it.  Gone. 

Kaput.  Kaboom!  Bang!

Or maybe a whimper.  Who the hell knows.  But it's going to happen.  The Mayans say so.  It must be true.

So what are YOU going to do with your twenty-one remaining days?

If you're any kind of writer at all, there is only one correct answer:

Write a script.  

To hell with spending time with loved ones, or making peace with all the terrible crap you've done to people who really didn't deserve it.  I don't care how long your list is, you've got twenty-one days!  That other stuff will only take an hour.  Okay, two if you include your high school years and the hooker stuff we're never supposed to talk about.  But the point is, you're running out of time.

So what if the Mayan end-of-days crap has a 99.987265% chance of being nothing but hype.  Are you going to use that as an excuse to NOT write a script?  And you call yourself a writer?

What's that?  You have Christmas/Hanukkah/{Insert Politically Correct Seasonal Holiday Here} shopping to do, and parties to attend?  Where are your priorities?

Nobody knows when they're checking out, so why not use the latest end of the world scare to actually accomplish something.  Would it be any more real or urgent if a doctor gave you 3 weeks to live?  At least this way your typing strength comes from really bad junk food rather than a special low sodium diet sucked through a straw given by the same overly large woman with facial hair who gives you your enema.  You get to choose the conditions under which you write your final masterpiece.

Sure, I can see the lure of surrounding yourself with family and friends and all that loved ones B.S if the doc gave you, say, 48 hours.  But three weeks is a goldmine of time, and there's only so much goodbye kissing your loved ones can take.

Lord, I can hear the chorus of 'buts' echoing around the world.  "But...but...but...  Three weeks isn't nearly enough time to write a script!!

If it's all the time you got, you'll find a way.  And according to those badass Mayan dudes, it really is all the time you've got.  So man up already and just do it. 

Here's how:

1) Pull an extra couple of weeks worth of work out of your ass by cutting way back on sleep.  You can make up the deficit when you're dead.

2) Have all your food delivered to squeeze out an extra day or two.

3) Work in the bathroom so you have no excuse to go anywhere for any reason.

4) And hell, if you can't live without it, get your special significant other (or Sexy Susie from that secret 800 number... yes I know about her) to service you while you work, or better yet, save that for your last 12 and a half minutes, and use that pent up energy on your script.  

The point is, it can be done.  All you have to do is do it.  (Unless you're reading this on December 19th, in which case you're screwed buddy.)

And hey, if the world doesn't end, it'll be good practice for those crazy last minute production deadlines.  And you'll get a new script to flog around town out of it.  But on the off chance that those crazy Mayan kids are right, wouldn't you like to go out doing something truly meaningful?  

Your Christmas shopping can wait 'til the 22nd.  If we're gonna go out, I'm going out in a blaze of glory, not in some overcrowded mall where I'm half out of my mind with the urge to kill every second person I see.  Who's with me? 

Pic found at lolhoot

originally posted 12/1/12