tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1857810184469085042024-03-14T08:39:46.758-04:00The Twisted Mind of Daniel GuytonPlaywright Daniel Guyton shares his thoughts and insights with the world (twisted as they may be...).Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-38577118381490524712021-03-19T22:15:00.002-04:002021-03-19T22:15:10.236-04:00Cancel Culture<div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"Cancel culture" is just a modern buzzword for "boycott". People boycott products, companies, and artists they don't like for all sorts of reasons, and they have been doing so for centuries. In this country, boycotting is a fundamental part of our First Amendment rights. Does anyone reading this actually believe that Civil Rights activists in the 1950's had no right to boycott or "cancel" the Montgomery Bus Company?</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">I remember Catholics attempting to boycott or cancel "The Last Temptation of Christ" back in the 80's, and I remember Evangelicals and Catholics joining forces to attempt to cancel the movie "Dogma" in the 90's. I certainly remember efforts to boycott or cancel "Harry Potter", Howard Stern, yoga, Colin Kaepernick, Ellen Degeneres for kissing a woman on television, rap music, heavy metal, and more. Going back a few generations, religious groups tried to boycott or cancel jazz music, Elvis, Ray Charles, and more. The main reason these religious groups were unsuccessful is because their numbers were, frankly, too small, and their attempts to cancel these films and artists ironically gave the films and artists extra publicity, which led to an extra boost at the box office. Therefore, the producers had a financial incentive to not only ignore the boycotters, but to increase their controversial output.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">I don't believe it's a coincidence that Marilyn Manson, Eminem, gangster rap, and shock comedy movies and television shows all gained in popularity in the late 90's through the early aughts. The attempted boycotting of these artistic endeavors in the 80's and 90's actually helped to vault the entertainment industry into record profits. Furthermore, the people boycotting were unlikely to have ever been consumers of said products anyway. Evangelical church group members were probably never going to buy a Marilyn Manson CD anyway, so why should his producers care what that group thought of him? They lost zero revenue from the boycott, and the extra attention only brought in more money.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">The issue we are running into today is that the actual consumers of these entertainment "products" (music, movies, television shows, etc) are the ones actually doing the boycotting and, to use the current buzz word, "canceling". This current trend of boycotting is having a very real economic impact on these companies' bottom dollars, and that is the ONLY reason contracts are being nulled and different actors/artists/personalities are being fired. The Catholics and Evangelicals couldn't do a thing to Marilyn Manson's record sales because they weren't the ones buying his albums in the first place. Young girls with a goth fetish are his core audience, and THEY are the main people boycotting him now because of the recent sexual assault allegations! So yes, "cancel culture" is an effective form of boycott (which is what makes it so scary for these artists), but it only seems to be effective when the artists' core audience are the ones doing the boycotting. Otherwise, said boycotting or canceling is likely to have no negative impact.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Here's another example: Recently, several Twitter users attempted to "cancel" Eminem. Millions of his fans responded by buying multiple copies of his albums and vaulting him once again to the top of the charts. The "cancelers" had no luck with him because the ones trying to cancel him were not his core audience anyway. Morgan Wallen is another example. He said the "N-word" in public, and got dumped by his record label, and yet his existing albums immediately shot to the top of the charts and have remained there ever since. It is almost guaranteed that his record label will re-sign him in a few weeks after the hubbub dies down.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">You literally cannot cancel someone who is making too much money for the industry. That's how capitalism works. However, it is entirely possible to cancel someone when their core audience refuses to pay for their products. It is only at that point that the industry begins to take notice.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">The Montgomery Bus Company had every legal right to segregate their buses in 1956 since segregation was not only lawful, but also encouraged at the time. However, after nearly a year and a half of losing revenue from their PRIMARY CONSUMERS, the bus company realized they had no choice but to give in or go bankrupt. Let's say a group of car owners had decided to boycott the Montgomery Bus Company in 1956. How effective would that boycott actually be? They weren't going to take the bus anyway. That boycott was only effective because African Americans usually took the bus more often than anyone else in town - because segregation also affected them in the workplace, and therefore, many African Americans in 1956 could not afford cars.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">As an artist, do I worry about being canceled? Sure, it could happen. I write a lot of satire that could easily be misunderstood. When I was younger, I used to dream about the Evangelicals trying to shut down one of my plays. The idea of it was actually exciting to me, because I thought, "Oh, think of the controversy! Think of the news headlines!" etc. But today, I'd just be grateful if ANYONE showed up to one of my plays - with or without a picket sign.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">But, while I certainly would hate to be canceled by folks that I respect or consider to be my peers, I also fear the alternative even more - a world in which we cannot criticize, boycott or challenge artists, companies, politicians and people that we disagree with. If person A says something terrible on the internet, I have the right to criticize that person. If I say something terrible on the internet, that person has the right to criticize me. That's how freedom of speech works. "Cancel culture" is only seen as dangerous today because it involves money, and specifically the loss of it. But, we live in a capitalist society, so why shouldn't we use money as a weapon? In the Citizens United case, the Supreme Court essentially ruled that "Money is speech", so I guess some people feel that if they are losing money, then that also means they are losing their freedom of speech?</span></span></div>Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-63068868958707461322018-09-30T20:13:00.001-04:002019-06-23T14:29:33.231-04:00I Support #MeToo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">The pain that I see in my friends' posts, my loved ones' conversations, and in the countless interviews I've seen in the news in response to Kavanaugh's hearing, as well as in the last several years of the <a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"type":104,"tn":"*N"}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/metoo?source=feed_text" style="cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration-line: none;"><span class="_5afx" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit;"><span aria-label="hashtag" class="_58cl _5afz" style="font-family: inherit; unicode-bidi: isolate;">#</span><span class="_58cm" style="font-family: inherit;">metoo</span></span></a> movement, have deeply affected me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">I have hurt people. Mostly without realizing it. Sometimes I did realize it, but I justified it by saying that other people laughed, so it was ok. Hurting people was never the end goal; the goal was usually to make people laugh - but if some people got hurt in the meantime, well, so be it. I was driven from a young age by a need to make people laugh - I found it to be an effective defense mechanism against an otherwise cruel world. But occasionally, I perpetuated that cruelty unto others.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">One time, I broke up with a girl in a really cruel way because it sounded funny in my head. Why would anyone try to be funny in a break up? I have no idea. I can't even begin to understand my own logic at the time, let alone explain it. All I know is that I recognized the cruelty even as the words were exiting my mouth. I do not regret breaking up with her (it was not a healthy relationship), but I have regretted the way I went about it for years. I even wrote half of a play about it once, but I didn't finish it because the friends I had shown it to said the male character was way too vicious, and they didn't like it. (They didn't recognize that character was me, and I didn't have the courage to tell them. I also didn't feel right watering it down, so I just set it aside for a time).</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Sometimes I was cruel in a way that I instantly regretted. Other times, it took a while for me to recognize how much I had hurt someone. (And I also don't mean to imply that my life has been spent inflicting one cruel joke after another - I hope I have ultimately brought more joy than pain to others over the long haul - but there were enough cruel moments in there for me to feel the need to share this.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">My wife is one of the most empathetic people I know. When we met, I was not in a great place in my life - but she listened, loved me, and made me feel like I meant something in this world. She also taught me that there are a lot more ways to make people laugh than just being cruel. Over the last 10 years, I have listened to her, I have grown with her, I have developed a far keener sense of empathy and compassion than I even knew I was capable of. Most people who have met me in the last 10 years probably would not have recognized me in the previous 30.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">When the #metoo movement began, I listened - to my wife especially - but also to many others.<br />In addition to waking me up to the horrific experiences of others, these stories have made me reflect upon my own bad behavior. I know that I have been a terrible person at times, and that I have caused people pain.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">When people say that Judge Kavanaugh couldn't have been guilty of hurting someone in his teens because he's "so nice now", I call bullshit. Maybe he found God (or lost God), or maybe his wife helped him to become a better person (or not, because based on his testimony, he certainly doesn't SEEM like a nice person). But, even the nicest human being in the world is capable of hurting others. This does not mean that anyone (even Kavanaugh) is incapable of redemption, but it certainly means that an effort must be made.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">If you have hurt someone in your past, please acknowledge it - at least to yourself. Listen to others. Reflect on your past. Promise yourself and others that you will do better - and actively work towards doing better. None of us are perfect. All of us are human and fallible - but if we can't even acknowledge our own shortcomings, then how can we expect it of others?</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">I am deeply ashamed and sorry for my actions which have hurt people. I truly wish I could undo those actions, but I CAN work harder towards being a better person today. The world is far too cruel as it is without my dumb ass adding any more to it. For all those who've shared <a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"type":104,"tn":"*N"}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/whyididntreport?source=feed_text" style="cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration-line: none;"><span class="_5afx" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit;"><span aria-label="hashtag" class="_58cl _5afz" style="font-family: inherit; unicode-bidi: isolate;">#</span><span class="_58cm" style="font-family: inherit;">whyididntreport</span></span></a> and #metoo messages, please know that I'm listening, I hear you, and that your words are having an impact. Please don't ever feel that you need to be silent. These messages break my heart, and they make me want to be a better person. I know I'm not alone in this. And neither are you.<br /><a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"type":104,"tn":"*N"}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/ibelievethewomen?source=feed_text" style="cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration-line: none;"><span class="_5afx" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit;"><span aria-label="hashtag" class="_58cl _5afz" style="font-family: inherit; unicode-bidi: isolate;">#</span><span class="_58cm" style="font-family: inherit;">IBelieveTheWomen</span></span></a></span></div>
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Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-37759255154626467042018-03-24T17:21:00.002-04:002019-06-23T14:29:02.519-04:00Atlas Shrugged Vs. The Fountainhead<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">So, I recently read Ayn Rand's "Atlas Shrugged" for the first time, and was... well... impressed by the scope of the novel, however disappointed by the actual writing - especially compared to her previous novel, "The Fountainhead", which I loved. A friend asked why I liked one, but not the other, and here was my reply:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"The Fountainhead" deals primarily with art and imagination and creativity, and not letting any other human dictate what one should or should not create. So much so, that Howard Roark (the novel's protagonist) will not be moved by public opinion OR by financial concerns. He would rather go bankrupt and be blasted publically by every newspaper from here to kingdom come, than to sacrifice his vision. To that end, I found it fascinating. Yes, the protagonist is an architect, not a playwright, but I still connected with him on an artistic level.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">In "Atlas Shrugged" however, we focus on businessmen. These businessmen have the same intensity of focus as Howard Roark in "The Fountainhead", which I admired, AND their approach to business is very similar to Roark's approach to his architecture. They plan to earn money REGARDLESS of public opinion, and even in the face of pending bankruptcy, they will still do everything they can to produce, create, and hopefully make their millions in the process. In many ways, I admired "Atlas Shrugged" and what it set out to do.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">However, "Atlas" is WAY too judgmental of other viewpoints. In a key scene, the main protagonist calls social workers the most evil people in America, because all they want to do is take money away from the rich and give it to the poor. I happen to like social workers. I have several family members who are social workers. They are about as diametrically opposed to evil as I am from a turtle. The most likable character in the novel makes a broad comparison of Robin Hood to the devil, and over and over again, Rand calls people with a social conscience "Evil" or "a looter", as if a person's desire to help others is a sin. Yes, I understand WHY she wrote this novel, and what worldy concerns were happening (Stalin was in power, Cuba was overthrown, the Red Scare was in full effect, and McCarthy was at the height of his popularity). However, the judgments hurled at some of my own philosophies were not well met by me as a reader. In fact, I felt many of her arguments were not even well formed. Had she been in the room as I read it, I'd have challenged her on many tenets of her argument.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">On the flip-side, the protagonist in "The Fountainhead" makes one thing very clear - he doesn't give a DAMN what others think of him or his work. Roark does not judge people - not even Peter Keating, who is stealing his ideas and marketing them as his own. He just does what he does, and allows others to judge themselves. He is a mirror by which others can see their own faults and reflections. Yes, the character of Ellsworth Toohey is a Socialist, and clearly the villain of the piece, but in the greatest line of the novel, Toohey asks "Why don't you tell me what you think of me, Mr. Roark?" Roark replies, "But I don't think of you." It sums up everything.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Had Rand been more subtle in "Atlas Shrugged", I might have been on board. But "Atlas" is SOOOOOOOOO judgmental, with the words "Evil" and "A socialist" tossed around so much that it resembled a McCain/Palin rally, and EVERY SINGLE ONE of her protagonists is so amazingly brilliant and of the same mind, I felt bored. Yes, there are some (possibly many) great businessmen out there who make a sizable profit doing the right thing. But as we've seen recently with Enron, Halliburton, BP, and many other examples, there are LOADS of businessmen who are JUST AS BAD as the corrupt politicians who are villainized in "Atlas Shrugged." Rand proposes (like a Tea Partier) that government should stay out of big business. That's all well and good, and I might be able to support it - Except in her example, all businessmen would naturally work within the United States, keep jobs for our citizens, promote the best employees, fire the worst, regulate themselves in order to maintain a better profit, and so on. Yet that doesn't happen! Businesses are constantly outsourcing, letting people go regardless of their talent, as long as they can save a buck somewhere else. Rand IGNORES the handicapped entirely, shits all over anyone who cares about their family more than work, and she favors social selection over any other societal model. Which again, is an ok philosophy worth debating, but in this novel, she makes NO ROOM for disagreement or doubt. Her protags are all perfect beings - ALL of them. And I get her point - we should encourage the best workers and discourage the worst. Fine, I'm all for it. But deregulating completely? Going back to "the perfect world" of laissez-faire capitalism? I'm sorry, I don't think it works. There is JUST as much temptation for a businessman to be corrupt as a politician.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">1) She blames the fall of capitalism on Robin Hood - the idea of stealing from the rich to give to the poor. Yet, Robin Hood didn't steal from the hard-working rich, who earned their money honestly! He stole from LAZY rich, especially from the lousy politicians who over-charged taxes on their citizens, without offering comparable benefits in return. Robin Hood would have NEVER stolen from King Richard, the king everyone admired - he only stole from Prince John, who is the same type of douchebag as James Taggart in the novel. Prince John and James Taggart were both handed everything, put forth zero effort, yet felt the world owed them everything. So Robin Hood said "Screw you, I'm taking all your unearned tax money back." Based on this novel alone, I would have thought Rand would LOVE Robin Hood. In fact, she even has a likable character named Ragnar Danneskjold who is a modern-day pirate, who does what? Oh right, he steals from the corrupt politicans who overtaxed the businessmen, and gives the money back to the rightful owners. Ragnar Danneskjold IS Robin Hood. This was a poorly conceived metaphor on her part. Robin Hood is actually about as Ayn Randian as you can get...</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">2) Two of her main protagonists were born rich and handed everything. Francisco and Dagny were both heirs to MAJOR sources of wealth and property. Yes, so is James - one of the antagonists. But maintaining one's wealth, and rising up from nothing to earn it are two different things entirely. If you want to argue about the merits of capitalism, to a country that is divided economically, these two characters are NOT the best examples. They work as foils, but they're not going to "speak" to someone who is raising three kids, working two jobs, and struggling to pay the bills. Reardon did work hard to get where he is, but he certainly didn't come from poverty. He rose up from the middle class. Unfortunately, because of this, "Atlas Shrugged" smacks of an "I-have-everything-and-I-want-to-keep-it" smugness. In "The Fountainhead", you at least have Gail Wynand, who rose up from the slums of New York to become wealthy, which is more impressive, and you also have Roark, who doesn't CARE about money. Possibly John Galt's background is comparable to Wynand's, though he's only in the novel a relatively short time, and really, he's more comparable to Roark. Money is important to Galt, but more as a philosophy - making money IS Galt's artwork.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">3) As a novel, Rand fails in "Atlas Shrugged" by creating TOO MANY perfect protagonists! There are not enough flaws (tragic or otherwise) in any of her protagonists, and there are SO MANY flaws in all of her antagonists. It's hard to swallow, at least on a dramatic level. I suppose the metaphor works for what she's trying to say, but as a novel, it sucks. In "The Fountainhead" you have ONE perfect person, and even the people who want to be like him fall short. I can buy that. I just can't buy that every single person who cares about money actually follows the same moral code as every other person who cares about money. I just don't buy it. They all use the same language: "The looters", "evil", "I will never put anyone else's interests above my own." etc. It's not that I don't get where she's coming from -- it's that for someone SO concerned with individuality, it seems weird and contradictory that these staunch individualists would each share the same philosophy - right down to the EXACT SAME WORDS every time they speak!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">4) Dagny sleeps with three dudes in the novel - each one more impressive than the last, and EACH TIME, the previous dude is like "Wow, I'm so glad you're sleeping with that dude - because he's so much better than me." BULLSHIT! That is such bullshit. I don't care how "perfect" you are! What MAN, let alone a staunch individualist such as Francisco D'Anconia and Henry Reardon, is going to back down on his sexual conquest in order to promote the greater good of his philosophy? WTF?!? Again, I get where her philosophy is coming from, but it's BULLSHIT, and goes completely against human nature and biology.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">5) And with all of those staunch individualists in that one community, are you really going to tell me that no wars are started? No arguments? No one has a bad day or gets sick, or wakes up on the wrong side of the bed and says something dumb to someone else? No one decides they want to make more money than the next guy, or tries to rob someone, hoping that no one will notice? And what about children? How will this society sustain itself without children? And if they have children, then what happens when those children become teenagers or decide they don't like the philosophy espoused by the rest of the community? I don't buy it. I DON'T BUY IT. The people in that community are described as having the biggest egos in the world. How are they even living near each other? Let alone not ripping each other's throats out? Again, it's a nice philosophy, but it's BULLSHIT. Human nature does NOT WORK THAT WAY.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">6) And what happens when one of these amazing people has a child who is handicapped, and unable to give back to the society? Who takes of the child? Obviously not a social worker, since they're all evil. And probably not the parent, since they're so busy making money and being amazing for the good of all society. So do the parents simply abort the child who is incapable of providing any benefit to the society? This is never even touched on, and yet it is the biggest flaw in her entire argument.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Perhaps I'm cynical, and I really TRIED to see it Ayn Rand's way, but I don't. I think her "community" would dissolve in a month if it ever came to be. It would fall apart EXACTLY the same way communism would. One person would eventually get tired of being equal, and would try to tip the scales in his or her favor, which would piss off the other people, and a war would start. One person would eventually get sick, and out of fear of dying, might do something dumb - or the people that love them might do something dumb, or they might have a stroke and go crazy and break the rules. I don't know! But she completely fails to account for human nature. Not all people are smart, not all people are capable, and not all people are of sound body and mind. In her "ideal world," those people would just die, I guess. I simply can't accept that... There are far too many flaws in this novel for it work on its own merits.</span></span></div>
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Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-38506665163521157732017-06-22T12:15:00.001-04:002019-06-23T14:28:27.940-04:00Death of a Snowman<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">So, my 40th is coming up in less than a month. Yikes! If anyone is interested in doing something special for me, I would love for you to consider donating to my <a href="https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/death-of-a-snowman-animated-short-film-cartoon/x/341382#/">IndieGoGo campaign</a>. I wrote "Death of a Snowman" back in 2009, and have wanted to see it animated ever since. It's a story about a young girl whose mother passed away, so she reaches out to her closest friend - a snowman - to discuss what happens in the afterlife. It's such a meaningful story to me, and I've heard man</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">y audience members tell me how meaningful it was to them, as well. (The play has been produced over 80 times around the world!)</span></span></b><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: black; display: inline; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><b><span style="color: white;">Two years ago, I finally raised up enough money to have a serious discussion with a professional animator. The money I raised was not enough to complete the project, but it was enough to get things moving, with the idea that I would do a fund-raiser once most of the initial pieces were in place. Well, that's where we're at now. Please take a look at the project. There are photos and a trailer on this link, plus I'm offering some amazing prizes - a signed animation cel, producer credit, Christmas tree ornaments, signed books, etc. Please take a look, and please donate if you can. This project means the world to me, and I think it would mean a lot to others as well. Thank you.</span></b></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: black; display: inline; font-size: 14px;"><span style="color: white; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><b><a href="https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/death-of-a-snowman-animated-short-film-cartoon/x/341382#/">www.indiegogo.com/projects/death-of-a-snowman-animated-short-film-cartoon/x/341382#/</a></b></span></span><br />
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Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-10693087852890245842015-05-17T12:02:00.000-04:002019-06-23T14:27:22.091-04:00Title Change<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">TITLE CHANGE</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">So I wrote a play a while back that was very well received. So well, in fact, that a friend of mine wanted to film it as a short movie. I was thrilled, so I adapted it into a screenplay, we cast the actors together and we filmed it. After that, the friend more or less disappeared off the face of the earth for close to a year, along with the footage. I asked him several times how it was looking, if he needed any help editing, etc. I kept getting the same reply: "I got this. Do</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">n't worry about it." (This should have been a red flag). The actors in the film asked me numerous times if I knew anything. All I could tell them was that the director kept assuring me that he "got this." Four days ago, he sends out a rough cut of the footage to everyone on his email list (he didn't even send it to the cast and crew for review first, as is custom on short films like this). Some of the edits looked really good - which was exciting. But he changed the title. Which I didn't expect. And the change was not a positive one. He also made some editing choices which I felt interrupted the flow of the action. But most upsetting to me was the title change - mainly because we had numerous discussions about the script and he never once discussed a possible title change - and if he had, I would have fought him on it tooth and nail.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><span style="color: white;">I sent him a very long email describing my concerns about the rough edit - both positive and negative comments, with most of my concerns revolving around the title change, since it violated our contract.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">24 hours later, he has not replied to me at all, but he sends out a mass email to his email group:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"Thank you very much for your emails. Your kind words regarding the film are greatly appreciated. And yes, to the request I heard from many of you, you can provide a link to the film even though this is what those folks in the software industry call a “soft launch”.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Kind Regards,"<br />--------------</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">My response to this email:<br />"I have to be honest, ____. You never once suggested that you might change the title. Not in any of our discussions, or even in the contract does it suggest that you were considering changing the title. I take it as a serious slap in the face that you would even think about changing the title without discussing it with me first.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">I am angry and I feel betrayed. When you and I spent several hours discussing this project, I thought "Man this guy really gets it." I told my wife that I finally found a director I could trust. But I was wrong. I fully expect that if I ever sell a script for thousands of dollars to Hollywood, they'll have the right to change whatever they like. But I didn't sell this to you for a dime. I gave it to you freely because I believed in you and I thought you would bring my vision to life. But I'll never make that mistake again.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">At this point, I'm so disgusted I don't even want my name associated with this project. Please remove it. Thank you."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">--------------</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">His reply:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"I'm sorry you're taking this so hard. I never imagined this would be your reaction to the title change. To take your name off would be dishonest."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">--------------</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">My reply:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"Why did you change the title? And why did you never think to discuss it with me? I made zero dollars off of this. I gave you my script for free, out of respect and out of trust. Didn't you think that I might be a little bit upset by a major change of this nature? Why keep it such a secret from me? Did you not trust me? Did you not respect me? I feel absolutely betrayed. And the fact that you're sharing it publicly AFTER I shared my feelings about it tells me that you don't give a fuck how I feel. If you told me in advance that you wanted to change the title, I would have refused. And I think you knew that. Which is why you waited until now to just surprise me with it. Well, color me fucking surprised, man. But even more than the title change is the lack of common courtesy to even tell me about it. That's the part that stings. You didn't buy this script from me. I GAVE it to you. And the only thing I asked in return was a little bit of respect. You fucking failed in that department, man. I'm angry. Really angry. It case it wasn't clear."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">-----------<br />His reply:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"Let's revisit the reality of the financials, I funded the entire project. There's never been an expectation of earnings coming out of this, so I'm operating at a loss -- but I have no complaints."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">-----------<br />My reply:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"Well I have a big complaint. Please remove my name from the project. Thank you."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Then I followed with:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"You can put "Alan Smithee" in there if you like. But I want nothing to do with it."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Then I followed with:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"Plus I offered to pay half. You turned me down every time I offered. So please don't act like you have some financial foothold over me. I'll be happy to reimburse any and all costs right now if it would sway you to change the title back. Just let me know."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">---------------</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">24 Hours later, the video was still up on YouTube with my name on it, and he had not replied. So I sent him this:</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">"I have requested three times now that my name be removed from this project. My next "request" will be in the form of legal action. You have altered my script beyond recognition and beyond the scope of our agreement. Furthermore, you have treated our friendship and collaboration with utter disregard and contempt. I appreciate and encourage creative differences between collaborators; but lies, disrespect, and outright breaches of contract will not be tolerated. Remove my name or be prepared for an unpleasant legal battle. You have 24 hours to comply." Within 6 hours, the video was removed. I hate that it went down like this, and I'm still sick to my stomach over it, but at least I know he's reading my emails.</span></div>
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Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-55120163684254417502015-01-15T13:26:00.000-05:002019-06-23T14:26:28.881-04:00NBC Universal Application<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;"><i>So I recently applied to do a workshop with NBC-Universal. It's a 4-day workshop with some of the head writers of "SNL", "Late Night With Jimmy Fallon", etc. One of the assignments was to write an opening monologue for a late night comedian, filled with topical jokes from contemporary news and media sources. This is what I came up with. (Keep in mind that I completed this a few weeks ago, and so some of these jokes are a few weeks old):</i></span><br />
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So, North Korea’s in the news again. Apparently, their internet was down for 9.5 hours the other day. That’s right. 9.5 hours. That’s actually how long it takes for Kim Jung Un to walk three blocks, so it really wasn’t that noticeable to him.<br />
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Meanwhile, President Obama said that it was a mistake for Sony Pictures not to show "The Interview" in national theatres on Christmas Day, since that would set a bad precedent for terrorist groups to strip away our freedom of speech. Almost immediately, the director of Kirk Cameron’s latest feature "Saving Christmas" said that it was a mistake for national theatres not to show his movie as well, since that would allow public consumers, and audiences, and fans of quality cinema to erode his freedom of speech as well. <i>(Beat) </i>We’ll see how that turns out.<br />
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In other media news, Kanye West recently teamed up with Sir Paul McCartney for their new single "Only One", which is ironic, considering McCartney’s previous collaborator John Lennon once claimed that he “was bigger than Yeezus.” <i>(Beat)</i> Which is… of course… the name of Kanye’s 6th album, "Yeezus".<br />
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In further Kanye West news, his wife Kim Kardashian, aka Keezus, recently tried to “break the internet” with a picture of a champagne glass on her butt. In response, North Korean leader Kim Jong Un has blamed Ms. Kardashian for their 9.5 hour internet outage, and has threatened to shoot a nuclear missile warhead up her ass. In lesser news, he states that all champagne glasses are considered enemies of the people, and must be summarily shoved up Seth Rogan’s butt.<br />
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Speaking of Seth Rogan, marijuana is now legal in Alaska. There’s no joke there. It’s just a train of thought from one subject to the next. But yes, marijuana is now legal in the state that once elected Sarah Palin to its highest office. Could it be that they’re just trying to forget?<br />
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And speaking of forgetting, Sylvester Stallone just announced that he’s making a new "Rambo" movie. That’s right. He’s forgetting that nobody gives a sh-t. He’s also forgetting that he’s 70 and he needs his heart medication before he blows up some North Koreans – which is… presumably whom he’ll be fighting in this latest movie. In retaliation, of course, North Korea has threatened to kill Stallone, and… anyone who likes "The Expendables".<br />
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Recently, Play-Doh released a toy that looks like a penis.<i> </i>Sylvester Stallone said that this was ironic, because his penis is starting to look like Play-Doh. In fact, he says he has to leave it out of its container for a couple of days whenever he wants it to get hard again.<br />
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Meanwhile, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation is developing a revolutionary product that will convert human feces into palatable drinking water. This is true. Of course, the purpose of this product is to purify the streams and rivers in third world countries that often have human waste dumped into them. It’s a terrible problem, and it makes absolute sense that someone would create this product. And the fact that it’s Bill Gates makes even more sense – since he’s been sh-tting all over us for years with products like Microsoft Windows 8 and Internet Explorer. So… yeah. Way to clean up the mess, Bill.<br />
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And speaking of messes, Bill Cosby has been accused by two more women of sexual assault – bringing the total now up to 23 women who have openly accused Bill Cosby of some kind of sexual wrongdoing. Of course, many detractors have been referring to some classic Cosby routines, such as the “Spanish Fly” bit on his 1969 album It’s True! It’s True! in which he refers to purchasing Spanish Fly in order to get women to sleep with him. <i>(Play segment of the track)</i> It’s pretty condemning stuff. However, another fan discovered more recently, an even more condemning bit. See for yourselves. <i>(Roll tape of Fat Albert, with a clearly dubbed voice saying “Hey, hey, hey. I’m Fat Albert, and I can’t get laid unless I drug some b-tches.” Back to host)</i> Hmm, yeah. So there’s a lot of ambiguity in this situation, folks. We’ll see what happens…<br />
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In medical news, ebola is still wildly out of control in many countries – due in large part to people drinking poo water. So… hopefully Bill Gates will get that product up and running very soon. But in the meantime, several Nigerian princes are reporting a new scam. It appears that white Americans are writing them and offering ebola vaccines in exchange for their Social Security information. So… Interpol is looking into the matter as we speak.<br />
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And finally, actor Steve Carrel is gaining a lot of attention for his role as a wealthy aristocrat in the new movie "Foxcatcher". Carrel donned a prosthetic nose, fake teeth, and a terrible haircut in order to capture the essence of Donald Trump. <i>(Looks at paper)</i> Oh, I’m sorry. I meant John Du Pont. Sorry. Easy mistake. Sorry.<br />
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But anyway, that’s the fake news. Good night, and have a pleasant tomorrow!</div>
Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-89412785325075332922015-01-14T08:23:00.000-05:002019-06-23T14:26:06.200-04:00Mr. Burr<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
INTERVIEWER: Tell me a story from your childhood that would best personify your personality today.<br />
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ME: In seventh grade, I had a math teacher named Mr. Burr. He was an older, mostly bald white man who always carried a comb in his front pocket, and spoke with a thick New Yawk accent. When the students would fall asleep, he'd kick the metal garbage can and yell, "Wake up! Wake up! What the hell you doin' to me? I'm trying to teach heah!" (New Yawker for "here"). In the winter, he'd open up the windows and let in the snow, and again yell "Wake up! Wake up! You lazy sons-a-you-know-whats! What the hell you doin' to me? I'm tryin' to teach heah!" And then he'd bust out the comb and run it up his bald head like Arthur Fonzarelli. So one day, I wrote a comic strip about him.<br />
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I had the man dressed up as Batman (Burrman), and had him do battle with the evil garbage pails who wanted to take over the world, using their freeze rays. Of course, Mr. Burr was impervious to cold, and his weapon of choice was a swift old kick in the garbage "can", if you get my meaning. My classmates loved it so much, I wrote more. I eventually had Superburr, Luke Burrwalker, Burrassic Park. You name it. I mean, it was just endless. I was not a popular kid in seventh grade (I had buck-teeth, bad acne, overweight, you name it) but my classmates LOVED "The Burr Files" as they were eventually called. I wrote comic strip after comic strip, and they ate that shit up. The only math lesson I remember from that class was "PEMDAS" or "Parentheses, Exponents, Multiply, Divide, Add, Subtract" in that order. I remembered this because of his mnemonic "Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally" which he repeated over and over again. Eventually, Aunt Sally became a character in the comics - farting, belching, removing her clothing in inappropriate places, and Mr. Burr would always have to excuse her, even while trying to save the world.<br />
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I eventually branched out to parody other teachers, but Mr. Burr was always the easiest and ripest for parody. Towards the end of the year, in English class, I was asked to write a poem, and so I chose to write about Mr. Burr (I'll never forget this line: "Bash, bash! Now the garbage can's dented. / Whew, said he. Good thing it was rented!") The English teacher loved it so much that he showed it to all of the other teachers - including Mr. Burr. A day or two later, I was walking down the hallway, and a GROWN MAN grabs me by the shoulders and shoves me into an empty classroom. It was Mr. Burr. His face was pale as a ghost, and he goes, "What the hell you tryin' to do to me, kid?! The entire staff thinks I'm some kind of moron! Oh marone. You're ruining my life!" And I realized he wasn't kidding. The entire class of students (And apparently the faculty) thought my work was hilarious - but he didn't get the joke. Here I had nearly 100 comic strips all making fun of this man, and the butt of my joke did not appreciate it at all. And that's when I realized the human cost of parody.<br />
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I really don't like hurting people, but I love parody so much. I crave sarcasm and satire in my life, but I'm always mindful of that look in that man's eyes when he realized I was making fun of him. And had been doing so for months and months on end. I like to think I still write satire, but it's satire with a conscience now.</div>
Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-88442168325109108432014-03-08T08:17:00.000-05:002019-06-23T14:25:29.618-04:00Fun With iChat<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><span style="background-color: black; color: lime;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #c27ba0;">CAUTION - Extreme Vulgarity!!!</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: white;">So, my friend Aimee recently wrote a really sweet birthday text to a friend of hers. The friend replied with a nasty barrage of insults and vulgarity, which Aimee found surprising, since her friend was usually very sweet. After sending an apology to the friend for whatever wrongs she might have committed, the friend sent her another barrage of insults and corruption, at which point Aimee realized that this person was not actually her friend, but a stranger who had ended up with her friend's old phone number.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: white;">So, out of righteous indignation, Aimee took to Facebook, and asked all of her friends to write a sweet and happy birthday message to this person, just to see what happens.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: white;">I complied.</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKgP8ln-w-qKwr7B0VcsSVU1vW7Zib-zQ_JIf0CGmmnTz4jOIQKf1Z518zmjlSJe-a2FXxx-VxAPtNURelfnc3oCFDQbUHt3uRTSx3cq9fwkjL_Q3A5rGghLmEBaWBl2f4rKv-XhXOiE/s1600/Aimee's+Friend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKgP8ln-w-qKwr7B0VcsSVU1vW7Zib-zQ_JIf0CGmmnTz4jOIQKf1Z518zmjlSJe-a2FXxx-VxAPtNURelfnc3oCFDQbUHt3uRTSx3cq9fwkjL_Q3A5rGghLmEBaWBl2f4rKv-XhXOiE/s1600/Aimee's+Friend.jpg" width="290" /></span></a></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Needless to say, I did not hear from her again after that. :)</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Dan</span></b></div>
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Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-66500977273881373942013-08-10T15:16:00.001-04:002019-06-23T14:23:52.514-04:00Letter to a Neighbor<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">LETTER TO A NEIGHBOR</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">My next door neighbor (Whom we've had issues with before) sent us a strongly worded certified letter the other day (Apparently a phone call, email, text message, or even a ring on the doorbell would not suffice), alerting us that water was running off of our lawn onto his, and that he "demanded" we do something about it. He claimed that this excess run-off was due to work we had done in our yard almost a year ago, nearly 100 feet away from our mutual property line. He addressed the letter solely to "Kate Guyton" aka "Dear Mrs. Guyton". Apparently, I am no longer relevant - OR he simply feels that I will not take him seriously (which I probably won't), so he bypasses me entirely and goes straight to my wife. Here's a tip, guys - if you ever want to piss me the f--k off, do exactly what this man did.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbxvT0YMhZufK0aVG-wamcUKzwzh9xQ5OiIfrYaN4mv4C7JURdMOJ4rThY8-r9nxuXjAQgE7QUi9DdLnKk1jZb9qlHKL4Atu3DZSm6EnqF_wRbJ3bbahUlaMc5e1HXCDsLHPBtJsUeOg/s1600/Mike's%2BLetter%2Bto%2BUs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbxvT0YMhZufK0aVG-wamcUKzwzh9xQ5OiIfrYaN4mv4C7JURdMOJ4rThY8-r9nxuXjAQgE7QUi9DdLnKk1jZb9qlHKL4Atu3DZSm6EnqF_wRbJ3bbahUlaMc5e1HXCDsLHPBtJsUeOg/s1600/Mike's%2BLetter%2Bto%2BUs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">So... I wrote him the following letter. Enjoy.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Dear Mr. _______:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Thank you for the lovely compliments regarding the work we’ve had done in our backyard. We are very pleased with it. I am so sorry to hear about the rain damage you’ve had in your yard however. It has been a terribly rainy summer, and according to the National Weather Service’s Rainfall Scorecard (See attached), we have had more rain in this part of Georgia THIS summer than in any summer on record since 2005, and that year appears to be an anomaly. I have no doubt Mother Nature will relent sometime soon, but in the meantime, I understand your desire to point the blame at a more earthly source. However, I would be most remiss if I did not point out several factors:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">1) Your property sits considerably higher than ours, and we deal with rain runoff from your yard all year long (With no complaints, mind you. We knew our property was lower than yours when we bought the house. It seems strange, however, that you would claim the rain is running UPHILL from our yard into yours. It seems geographically impossible in my opinion, but then again, stranger things have happened).</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">2) The walkway and fire-pit that we installed is over 100 feet away from our respective property line, and has been sanctioned by the Department of Planning and Zoning, by the Sheriff’s Department, by the neighbors across the pond, and even by the Fire Marshall. We did not do any significant grading to any other part of our yard except in the area surrounding the fire-pit, so your concern that our yard work has somehow caused this additional runoff is ludicrous at best. (Again, all evidence points to the significant increase in overall rain this summer as the culprit, as opposed to any man-made forces).</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">3) Two large tree branches have broken off of your trees this past year and caused property damage to our yard. One enormous tree branch landed on our garage roof and damaged some of the shingles. That same branch also landed on our wooden fence and damaged it. We repaired both without any fuss or argument (it didn’t seem neighborly to complain, but clearly we are not the paragons of neighborhood civility that you fine folks are). The other tree damaged one of our brand new fir trees. Again, no argument or complaint – that didn’t seem neighborly either, in my experience. But, I will be glad to hold you accountable for any and all damage that your trees may inflict upon our property at any time in the future. It seems only fair.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">4) We have four eyewitnesses that are willing to testify that you trespassed on our property on the date of August 9, 2012, when we were having the original work done in our backyard. These eyewitnesses will state that you not only trespassed on my property, but that you were verbally abusive to the men who were working on the property, and also to my mother-in-law, who was merely approaching you to try to figure out why on God’s green earth you were on my property without an invitation. That part never sat well with me – I don’t appreciate abusive behavior in anyone, let alone a neighbor, and especially not to a member of my family. But I did not choose to press charges at the time because, again, it did not seem neighborly. In the future, I will certainly be contacting the authorities if I hear or see you stepping foot on our property again without permission.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">All that said, we do appreciate you contacting us, and we hope, like you, that Mother Nature will be a bit kinder to both of us in the coming year.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Yours truly,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">Daniel Guyton</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;">PS Please address all concerns to me in the future, and not to my wife. She interprets all of your correspondence as threatening and as borderline harassment. I am far more easy-going, however, and far more likely to address your concerns in a timely manner. Thank you.</span></div>
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Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-75305147763188075922013-03-02T09:37:00.003-05:002019-06-23T14:23:14.516-04:00Home Movies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "tahoma" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><span style="background-color: black;">This is amazing! My father died when I was 4 months old, and I never got to know him. Up until now, I've never even seen a video of him - only photographs. Thankfully, my Uncle Bill recently found a treasure trove of old 8mm films from the 1970's, which feature my father and the rest of his family - including many who are no longer with us. Starring Papa and Baba Guyton (Bill and Betty), their sons Kirk, Bill, Eddie, and Danny (my dad), My aunts Carol, Ellen, Julie, and my mom Debi. Also starring my cousins Jenny and Matt (as babies!), and a quick glimpse of my cousin Mary. Also included are several friends and family members from Aunt Carol's side - including members of the Topping family, and many more that I don't recognize. This is an amazing treasure trove of videos that I am so glad I was able to see. I wish there was sound, and I wish some of the shots of my dad would linger longer, but still it gave me goosebumps just to watch. I believe these clips are from 1975 through 1980. Please enjoy! (PS If you see someone who looks IDENTICAL to me, it's my Uncle Kirk who was almost the same age then as I am now).</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "tahoma" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><span style="background-color: black;">View movie here?: </span></span><span style="color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "tahoma" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><a href="http://youtu.be/CHiEBzInDtI" style="background-color: black;"><b>Guyton Family Home Movies</b></a></span></div>
Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-26924761340161564182010-12-15T12:16:00.000-05:002019-06-23T14:22:50.629-04:00SANTA is a SOCIALIST!!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<strong>Top Ten Reasons Why SANTA is a SOCIALIST</strong><br />
<strong>by Daniel Guyton</strong><br />
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<strong>1) He wears red</strong><br />
<strong>2) He "shares the wealth" with all people equally. (Except Jews)</strong><br />
<strong>3) He undermines Christianity on a regular basis</strong><br />
<strong>4) He voted for Obama (in absentia, of course)</strong><br />
<strong>5) He lives in a town not unlike Siberia</strong><br />
<strong>6) He views coal as a punishment, not as a legitimate fuel source</strong><br />
<strong>7) Like Obama, he often asks for change - although it's usually outside of Walmart with a bucket and a bell</strong><br />
<strong>8) Though he symbolizes consumerism and capitalism to an nth degree, he himself makes no profits from his services. In fact, it appears his only source of income is from an occasional mall sighting (in which he often seems disgruntled) as well as royalties from that song he wrote about running over someone's grandma (sick bastard).</strong><br />
<strong>9) He claims to love all people, yet he lives miles away from society, surrounding himself only with common laborers</strong><br />
<strong>10) His favorite movie is "Home Alone"*</strong><br />
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<strong>(*number 10 has no bearing on this topic. It's just something I read somewhere)</strong><br />
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<strong>Oh, and:</strong><br />
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<strong>11) he believes in giving handouts to the poor and needy</strong><br />
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Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-32689606536870783332010-07-26T22:45:00.000-04:002019-06-23T14:22:01.983-04:00Buddy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"Buddy"<br />
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In the summer before I started college, and after my high school graduation, I began a five-year, summers-only job working with my father's friend, a carpet cleaner and all-around handyman named Buddy. We installed wood floors, doors, windows, carpeting and more. Did demolition, plumbing, office cleaning, rug cleaning, floor sanding, etc. You name it, we did it. Just Buddy and I (and later, a few Mexicans that he hired - probably illegally - to assist us). Buddy was an excellent craftsman. I learned more about cleaning, painting, maintenance and repairs while working with him than I ever even realized at the time. As a first time homeowner over 10 years later, I still find myself using many of Buddy's tricks and lessons in repairing my own home. <br />
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However, Buddy had a number of moments in which he was often too intelligent for his own good -- many times thinking 10 or 11 steps ahead of what he actually doing at the moment. For this reason, his handywork and repairs often came out like Mona Lisas, but his car and financial background, for instance, had more dings in them than a Chinese phone book. (or... whatever the analogy is...). <br />
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He was a decent looking guy, for the most part. On a normal day, he resembled John Fogerty from Creedence Clearwater Revival. And he played the guitar too, which helped this comparison. But on days when he was particularly frazzled (which was often), he resembled Rick Moranis from Honey I Shrunk The Kids (and Ghostbusters). And he had eyebrows too. Ginormous eyebrows which looked like caterpillars. And everytime he yelled at me (which was often), they wiggled and shook like a cheerleader's pom-poms. An angry cheerleader's dark black pom-poms, just wiggling in my face unhappily. It was hard to take him seriously at times.<br />
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Buddy usually picked me up at 6 in the morning (which is still hard for me today -- but especially difficult at 17! I am not now, nor ever have been a morning person!). On one particular morning, I remember Buddy picking me up in his old Isuzu pickup truck, ready for a day of carpet cleaning. His equipment was all very expensive (or at least they had been when he purchased them), but now the majority of his items were held together with duct tape (his truck included). I recall this morning, we stopped for gas. As mentioned earlier, Buddy was often 10 or 11 steps ahead of what he was currently doing, so I could sense that his mind was not completely devoted to the task at hand. Undeterred, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Buddy is one the few people I've met in my lifetime who prefers to stop every day to partially fill the tank, rather than fill it completely every few days. He says it keeps the car lighter, thus saving on wear and tear. Perhaps he is right, but it seemed excessive to me. In any case, I thought, it allowed me to sleep for a few extra minutes every morning - so I wasn't complaining. This morning, I could hear him doing his normal routine - start the gas pumping, shove the gas cap between the nozzle and handle to keep it pumping while he checked his oil (he needed new oil like every other day. It was ridiculous), then he checked his tires, his brake fluid, windshield washer fluid, etc. This was a daily routine.<br />
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Then, in my half-awake slumber, I heard him get in the car and start the engine. He asked if I was awake, I lied and said yes, and We were off on our big adventure. Until we suddenly heard a loud BA-DOING! CRASH! BANG! PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! from behind us. Buddy slammed on the brakes and I opened my eyes. Somehow we were still in the gas station - albeit several feet in front of where we were. I looked behind us and realized the gas tank was missing a hose. Buddy's truck had suddenly gained one. Gas was pouring out of the end like a garden hose, and of course it could have been worse. My immediate expectation of a tremendous gusher pouring out of the gas pump never came. Luckily, it was only a little dribble that remained inside the hose itself. Buddy released a four letter verb and adverb (and possibly a noun) from his subconscious, and jumped out of the truck like an army commando. I watched him try to re-attach the hose to the pump, like a fireman trying to tap a hydrant, or a Delta Kappa trying to tap a keg. He was surprisingly nimble (and desperate) - but to no avail. The hose would simply not attach. I believe my jaw was agape, and my mind completely stunned by what I saw (plus I had been partying the night before, so none of this really registered anyway). Buddy yelled out to the heavens "I don't understand! I've done this a million times and it always goes right back in!!!" He shoved relentlessly into the pump with this now defunct appendage, but still, it would not take. He exhaled a few more colorful words, and then finally sat on the back of the truck, defeated. <br />
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"I don't understand," He said, in the saddest tone I've ever heard from another human being, "I've done this a million times and it always goes right back in."<br />
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I shrugged helplessly, unsure of what to say. Buddy sighed and entered the shop, probably 20 minutes after the event occurred. Head hung low, he told the attendant, "I pulled your hose out of the tank. I... I'm sorry." The man did not flinch, did not move a muscle, did not even raise an eyebrow. He just sat silently for a moment, and said, "I know. I been watching you for the last twenty minutes trying to put that in there."<br />
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Buddy yelled, "You watched me?!? Why didn't you come help me?"<br />
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The man shrugged, "What am I gonna do? It's broken."<br />
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Buddy cried, "What do you mean it's broken?!? I've done this a million times, and it always goes right back in!"<br />
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"Well, maybe you did it to some other gas station, pal. But THESE hoses aren't meant to go back in."<br />
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"But how is that possible?!? I need to get to work! How do we fix this?!?"<br />
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"Oh don't worry, I called the police."<br />
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"You called the P-!?!? Whaddya mean you called the police?!? Why don't I just pay you?"<br />
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"Nope. You can talk to the police."<br />
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"Holy s**t, no police!!! I'll just pay you! How much do I owe you?!?" Buddy pulled out his checkbook, just as a police car pulled into the lot with the lights blaring. The man pointed to the police car. "You can take it up with him now, buddy." (**Author's note: I don't believe the attendant knew Buddy's name. I am pretty sure this was ironic.)<br />
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Buddy's entire face turned white, and he rushed out the door to meet the officer. I did not follow him, but I swear I heard him explain, as the door was closing, "Officer, I've done this a million times, and it always goes right back in!"<br />
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I watched the rest of the conversation through the window, as Buddy wiggled his eyebrows excitedly at the man, and the officer calmly took down several notes. I looked at the gas station attendant who was right back to reading his magazine as if nothing had ever happened. After many more minutes had passed, Buddy re-entered the gas station. Silent. Still. With a piece of paper in his hand.<br />
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"You ready, Dan?" He queried, stonily.<br />
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"Yes."<br />
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"Come on."<br />
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We got back in the truck without saying a word. Several miles down the road, Buddy muttered, "That son-of-a-bitch was lying. I know he could have fixed it. I've done that a million times and it always goes right back in!" He looked like Rick Moranis here.<br />
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I said, "Buddy, what did... what did the officer say to you?"<br />
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"He filled out an incident report. The insurance company will send me a bill." He was seemingly calm, but with an underlying anger that I could sense. "I can't believe how f***ing late we are."<br />
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"I know," I muttered, trying not to upset his calm.<br />
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After a while, he shook his steering wheel violently and slammed on it, and muttered some more curse words, but eventually calmed down enough to get us to the job site.<br />
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Oh, and this was before cell phones, so Buddy had no way of calling the clients to let them know we were late. When we arrived, the owner was visibly upset. His wife was calmer, but... presumably because she was more polite. The home was a vast, beautiful Long Island beachfront property any celebrity would be thrilled to call their home. This was their summer home. <br />
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The man was a retired CIA agent, I believe, and his life story was the basis for the Gene Hackman film "The French Connection." In fact, Buddy told me this summer home was built with his earnings from that movie. Incidentally, this couple's actual home was also on Long Island, two doors down from John Gotti's home - where they filmed the show "Growing Up Gotti." Just to clarify what kind of money we're talking about here. Apparently, he was a distant relative of Buddy's wife, which is how Buddy got the job. He'd worked for the man several times, and I could tell there was a definite superiority issue going on there, to the point that Buddy was ALWAYS nervous going to this man's home. Today was no exception. In fact, being so absurdly late made it even worse. We arrived at the man's house, and Buddy gave me some cleaning tasks to do while he negotiated some future work for us. When I was done, I joined them at the table, and the man said, "Hey you're two strapping young men. Why don't you help me move this giant rock out of my garden?" Buddy's eyes grew large, like "What kind of rock are we talking about here?" and the man said "Don't worry, come with me."<br />
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We walked towards the back yard, and were about to exit the foyer, when we hear a loud BA-DOING! CRASH! BANG!<br />
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We all froze. Buddy had walked through the screen door. Completely. To the point that it was no longer on its hinges, and was bent out of all recognizable shape and size. The man yelled "Jesus, Buddy, are you retarded?!?" Buddy looked up with those giant frightened eyes of his, and said (I swear to god) "Don't worry! I've done this a million times! It always goes right back in!!!" And he tried, the poor bastard, to get that sucker back in, but he was panic struck, and nervous, and it wouldn't budge. I tried so hard not to giggle, I really did. But the ex-CIA agent grabbed the door out of his hands and yelled, "Gimme that shit!" At which point, I had to walk away. It was not the cruel, ha-ha, mocking laugh, it was the holy god this isn't funny, but I can't control myself type of laugh. The kind that makes you want to pee, and the harder you hold your lips together, the more it comes out your nose. I felt so bad for Buddy, but my god, this was pure comedy.<br />
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The man threw the screen door aside and sneered, "I'll buy a new one. Just help me with this stupid rock."<br />
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So I finally composed myself, Buddy's cheeks turned to their normal, non-embarrassed hue, and we examined the rock. It was big, and he wanted it rolled down the hill about 2 feet. So Buddy walked around it, figuring out the best approach, when he smacked his head on the tree. I mean, a giant branch too, and it was hard. It sounded so painful, even the man didn't say anything. He just watched him carefully to see if he was all right. Buddy shook it off and said, "I'm ok." And then we moved the rock. <br />
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He asked me to load the car while he worked on the sprinklers a little bit, which I did. Then I sat in the car and waited for probably a half an hour. When he came back, Buddy was soaking wet from head to toe. I didn't ask what happened, didn't say a word. I just stared straight ahead and tried not to think about how freaking funny this day was.<br />
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Buddy didn't say anything either. We just drove on for a few miles, when he suddenly started rolling his neck around. "Wow." He whispered, "My neck feels great!" I looked at him. He smiled and said, "That tree was awesome. My neck hasn't felt this great in ages!" At which point I busted out laughing, and so did he. We laughed for a good 20 minutes, it felt like. When we both calmed down, he said, "What a day, huh?"<br />
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"Oh yeah," I replied. "What a day." We drove on in relative silence, except for a few chuckles, the rest of the trip.<br />
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(This is only the first of many funny stories I had with Buddy, and I hope to post some more soon when I get a chance. I hope you enjoyed reading it!)<br />
<br />
-Daniel Guyton</div>
Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-64014545072303959112010-03-05T14:24:00.000-05:002019-06-23T14:21:11.606-04:00New Song Recorded by FAKE OBSESSION<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My song "GOOD TIMES GO" was just recorded as an ACOUSTIC DEMO by the English Rock Band FAKE OBSESSION! They're working on a full electric version now, but the demo's available on my website: <a href="http://www.danguyton.com/Music.html">www.danguyton.com/Music.html</a>. I wrote the lyrics, Fake Obsession composed the melody and chords!</div>
Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-42850673668831124182009-11-13T21:12:00.001-05:002019-06-23T14:20:16.391-04:00I'm Not Gay!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVDFc_Zkic_8Tzam2YCQ7gGKAp5EsRw33Vxto8YHJt6RyBNotrs9_kwJT9kTAgCTX2KoI1GLqqMDuY0CL-LkgvpTClORZLkpgyLcqvcnAL50tX5aRDjeY5bjYqvk4OnL8AOe-1ZWfSkSo/s1600-h/I'm+Not+Gay+Cover+2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403776993889030210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVDFc_Zkic_8Tzam2YCQ7gGKAp5EsRw33Vxto8YHJt6RyBNotrs9_kwJT9kTAgCTX2KoI1GLqqMDuY0CL-LkgvpTClORZLkpgyLcqvcnAL50tX5aRDjeY5bjYqvk4OnL8AOe-1ZWfSkSo/s320/I'm+Not+Gay+Cover+2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 216px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">My play "I'm Not Gay!" has been published and is now available on Amazon.com!<br /></span>Gary is a homophobe. The play explores his prejudices in one of the funniest, most shocking tragedies of all time. Revered and hated by critics across the globe, this play nearly caused someone to choke to death on opening night in Iceland. Some say it was from laughter. Others say it was the bile in the back of her throat. Regardless, you'll never forget the experience as Gary tries to prove how "not gay" he truly is. Mature audiences only.<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Im-Not-Gay-Dark-Satire/dp/0557092477/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_4">www.amazon.com/Im-Not-Gay-Dark-Satire/dp/0557092477/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_4</a><br /><br />Also, find several of my other plays at this link:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Daniel-Guyton/e/B002I0OQJG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1">www.amazon.com/Daniel-Guyton/e/B002I0OQJG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1</a></span></div>
Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-24190697760210655852009-09-03T14:39:00.001-04:002009-09-03T15:26:03.954-04:00"Where's Julie?" is on Amazon.com!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjftfEp3m4X632J2iw04Dmj5nDrz29hGUMGr3ExGR6fAYP9ZzReZGMtTMiwmsOSDkYPZ6P7PKcK5qZrBjBBktoadpxaMWuqi8S_HGiR5X9n44H-qLOHVXuOg44_1G1TtWkQUOQwgvsZs6A/s1600-h/Where's+Julie+Cover+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjftfEp3m4X632J2iw04Dmj5nDrz29hGUMGr3ExGR6fAYP9ZzReZGMtTMiwmsOSDkYPZ6P7PKcK5qZrBjBBktoadpxaMWuqi8S_HGiR5X9n44H-qLOHVXuOg44_1G1TtWkQUOQwgvsZs6A/s320/Where's+Julie+Cover+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377324452797859730" border="0" /></a><br />My play <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.danguyton.com/WheresJulie.html">Where's Julie?</a> has been published and is available on Amazon.com and Lulu.com. It's a melodramatic comedy about teenage pregnancy and abortion. It's very funny, and won the Kennedy Center/American College Theatre Festival New Play Award in 2001. Check it out here:<br /><br />"Where's Julie? (Lulu.com) -- <a href="http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/wheres-julie-%28a-melodramatic-comedy%29/7345667">http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/wheres-julie-%28a-melodramatic-comedy%29/7345667</a><br /><br />"Where's Julie?" (Amazon.com) -- <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Wheres-Melodramatic-Comedy-Daniel-Guyton/dp/0557082722/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252003527&sr=8-1">http://www.amazon.com/Wheres-Melodramatic-Comedy-Daniel-Guyton/dp/0557082722/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252003527&sr=8-1</a><br /><br />I also have two other books published and available through purchase here:<br /><br />"The Twisted Mind of Daniel Guyton (Poetry and Plays in the Dark Comedy Vein)" (Lulu.com) -- <a href="http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-twisted-mind-of-daniel-guyton-%28poetry-and-plays-in-the-dark-comedy-vein%29/7138612" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-twisted-mind-of-daniel-guyton-%28poetry-and-plays-in-the-dark-comedy-vein%29/7138612</a><br /><br />"The Twisted Mind" (Amazon.com) -- <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-Daniel-Guyton-Poetry-Comedy/dp/0557070139/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1247787135&sr=8-2" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-Daniel-Guyton-Poetry-Comedy/dp/0557070139/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1247787135&sr=8-2</a><br /><br />"The Mother of God Visits Hell" (Lulu.com) -- <a href="http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-mother-of-god-visits-hell-%28a-play-in-iambic-pentameter%29/7155841" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-mother-of-god-visits-hell-%28a-play-in-iambic-pentameter%29/7155841</a>.<br /><br />"Mother of God" (Amazon.com) -- <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mother-Visits-Hell-Iambic-Pentameter/dp/0557068606/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1247787230&sr=1-1" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.amazon.com/Mother-Visits-Hell-Iambic-Pentameter/dp/0557068606/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1247787230&sr=1-1</a>Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-18191536751392501792009-09-03T14:23:00.000-04:002009-09-03T14:38:00.014-04:00Georgie Gets a Facelift<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-sYCtQ97Rhu98SUlPYdlzwwLdum6db8NS2TTSSWKUNlCv4zkPVH1nZD0ixUQQdWLuCNTR64-ptVdvzqSQEt3Ri9fxBuwEIXas3GZcekpO22iVBG3wRlEwJYu1-CTNatR2iOGLgOXWr5M/s1600-h/Shelterskelter+SSXIVPoster2iPreview350.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-sYCtQ97Rhu98SUlPYdlzwwLdum6db8NS2TTSSWKUNlCv4zkPVH1nZD0ixUQQdWLuCNTR64-ptVdvzqSQEt3Ri9fxBuwEIXas3GZcekpO22iVBG3wRlEwJYu1-CTNatR2iOGLgOXWr5M/s320/Shelterskelter+SSXIVPoster2iPreview350.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377310672320429666" border="0" /></a><br />My play <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.danguyton.com/Georgie.html"><span style="font-style: italic;">Georgie Gets a Facelift</span></a> has been accepted by the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.shelterbelt.org/SSXIV.html">Shelterskelter XIV Festival</a> at the Shelterbelt Theatre in Omaha, Nebraska. It runs October 8th through the 31st. The festival features "10 Original Tales of Horror, Murder, Dark Comedy, and the Macabre."<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">Includes: </span><ul style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><li><b>Georgie Gets a Facelift</b> by Daniel Guyton - motherly love and murder make for an uncomfortable match<br /></li><li><b>Old Friends</b> by Tom Deiker - the sins of the past intersect with the sins of the present<br /></li><li><b>Never Wear a Dead Man's Shoes</b> by Judd Lear Silverman - a comic look at whether old wives' tales can be true<br /></li><li><b>One Danger of Routine</b> by Matthew S. Vodicka - predictability can be deadly<br /></li><li><b>Anniversary</b> by Josh McIlvain - two couples meet in the park, and reminiscing turns into something else<br /></li><li><b>Hemo Phobia</b> by Pat Bourgeois - a timeless story of love, life and death, set in a cemetery<br /></li><li><b>The Inciting Incident</b> by Mark Cornell - delve into the mind of a distressed and disturbed neighbor<br /></li><li><b>Damn Spot</b> by Alex Dremann - what would you do if your floor was haunted?<br /></li><li><b>Safe</b> by Deborah Finkelstein - sometimes abusive actions require retaliation<br /></li><li><b>Fortnight of the Living Dead</b> by Dusty Wilson - zombies love our brains, but can they also steal our hearts? </li></ul>Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-11873954419887978022009-08-13T16:08:00.000-04:002016-05-31T23:59:47.152-04:00Searching for My Father<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOQKc5KMGbXJT8jXTwAPSLzvuxwdN0aXl6rNjIjBq9lkOrN7RAH1x7NYtU758ymCyFctAh2z3bHDvRVJnClSwqu83x6ncUGGpkEByDke0G7YBww5My9Y51bk92zLwBYPIEYTl_9qxgFs/s1600-h/My+dad.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369555138587274770" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOQKc5KMGbXJT8jXTwAPSLzvuxwdN0aXl6rNjIjBq9lkOrN7RAH1x7NYtU758ymCyFctAh2z3bHDvRVJnClSwqu83x6ncUGGpkEByDke0G7YBww5My9Y51bk92zLwBYPIEYTl_9qxgFs/s320/My+dad.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 183px;" /></a><br />
My father died when I was four months old. He was only 20 (in fact, a week after his 20th birthday). The year was 1977. December. Throughout my childhood and adolescence, my mother told me that he'd died in a car accident. Tragically, my mother's brother died that same year - only three months after my father. It was a banner year for my mother. She'd lost her husband, her brother, her grandmother and her dog, all in the same year. <span style="font-style: italic;">Hopefully</span>, my birth took some of the pain away. Actually, she’s told me several times throughout my life, that had I not been there, she might have killed herself - she was that depressed. So I guess, in a way, I saved her life. In a way, she also saved mine. But I'll get to that later.<br />
<br />
In any case, her brother had died in a car wreck three months after my father. As I grew up, she told me they'd died under similar circumstances. Until I turned 15. That summer, I was doing some cleaning and organizing in my mother's basement, when I found a large box full of papers and items about my father. Included in those items was a newspaper article about my father being shot and killed at Scott Air Force base in Belleville, Illinois (where he was stationed). The article suggested he was murdered, and not by a car but by a shotgun. This stunned me for about a half an hour, and then I asked my mother about it. She cried, and we had a lengthy heart to heart. I asked her why she'd told me it was a car accident. “Because a lot of people thought it was suicide”, she answered. This information also surprised me because the newspaper made no mention of it.<br />
<br />
I asked her what she thought, and she cried some more and said he'd been very depressed, and that the military was an awful place for him, and she wished he'd never joined, and then, she didn't come out and say it, but it seemed that she believed it was a suicide. That was the last time we discussed it for many years. That same day, I returned to the large box and pulled out a letter, dated one day before the shooting, and the letter was very depressing and sounded much like a suicide note.<br />
<br />
Based on my mom's reaction, and based on that note, my 15-year old brain was convinced he had killed himself. Oddly enough, this thought actually helped me get through some difficult times in my life. I have experienced a lot of depression in my life - particularly in my teenage years, and thoughts of suicide would enter my head regularly. So when I discovered this information, I made the decision that I would NEVER take that way out.<br />
<br />
It sounds odd, perhaps, but when I saw the pain etched on my mother's face, because of what she believed was my father's suicide, I realized I could never do that. I could never put her through that kind of agony again. No matter how bad things ever became in my life, I realized I could never kill myself - if only because of that look on my mother's face that day we discussed this.<br />
<br />
In a way, it was a blessing. Had we not had that discussion, who knows what I may or may not have done to myself? I had really never discussed this with anyone until my mid- to late- twenties. I just carried it around inside. It seemed odd, disrespectful, and frankly, uncomfortable for me to discuss it with anyone. So I kept it hidden. If anyone asked about my father, I calmly stated that he'd died when I was four months old and that I didn't wish to discuss it. If they persisted, I explained that he'd killed himself and it was a sensitive subject. That usually shut them up. Sometimes, depending on the person, I might say, "Well, he died under mysterious circumstances. Some say he killed himself, others say he was murdered. It was never solved."<br />
<br />
In my mid-twenties, I wrote a play entitled "Georgie Gets a Facelift" which was a thinly veiled parody of my own suicidal thoughts, plus a bitter take on the manner in which I believed my father had died. The action of the play is very different than the actual events, but in spirit, I was channeling the energy of those events - as I saw them at that time.<br />
<br />
About two years ago, a friend of mine was visiting my grandparents (my father's parents) with me, and much to my chagrin, he asked my grandfather directly about how my father had died. I didn't wish to discuss it, but Papa was so convinced that my father had been murdered, that it made me question what I had believed for at least 10 years at that point. He mentioned something about my father investigating illegal drugs, which were apparently prominent at Scott Air Force Base during the 70's. And he insisted that my father was murdered because of that investigation. I had not heard this part of the story, and it seemed intriguing.<br />
<br />
However, I was so convinced by my own theories that I assumed my grandfather was just protecting his son's memory - and possibly protecting me, so I didn't believe him. I loved my grandfather, but did not trust his recollection of events.<br />
<br />
That was the last I discussed it with anyone until I discovered some files at the Ohio State University about a month ago. While doing a Google search on my great-great uncle Milton Caniff (the famous cartoonist of the 40's and 50's - His comic strips "Terry and the Pirates" and "Steve Canyon" were some of the most popular comics during World War II and after). When Caniff passed away in 1988, his estate was willed to Ohio State University, including almost all of his artwork, and many of his personal letters and artifacts. Milton himself was a celebrity in his day - on par with Charles Schultz and other comic book giants. Unlike Charles Schultz, however, Milton was primarily famous in military circles, due to the nature of his comic strips. In fact, there are photos of Milton shaking hands with every president from Truman to Gerald Ford, smiling and laughing like they were old high-school buddies. He was such a celebrated figure, that a small town in Colorado even changed their name to Steve Canyon (to honor his most famous cartoon character), erected a gigantic statue of Steve Canyon in their town square, and donated a gold mine to Milton Caniff to thank him for his "military service" (which I am incidentally now a proud part-owner of). Ironically, Milton never served in the Armed Forces, due to a disability, but he loved American soldiers so much, he devoted his life to entertaining them, and inspiring them, and depicting them in heroic battle situations.<br />
<br />
At Ohio State University, Milton had folders upon folders of letters and correspondences between fans, family, friends, military leaders and more. One particular folder caught my eye. It read:<br />
<br />
"Box MAC.P302 / Folder 14 // Guyton, Daniel J.\A1c USAF, [1977] // Materials related to the death of Daniel Guyton including reports and correspondence to and from Milton Caniff regarding the investigation."<br />
<br />
I contacted Ohio State and ordered copies to be mailed to me, and unfortunately (or fortunately, I suppose), they did not arrive before my most recent trip to visit my grandparents. However, when I mentioned the files to my grandfather, he became very engaged, and we talked again about my father (for the first time in many years), and about that time period. He opened up even more about the events that took place that terrible December in 1977. I also spoke with my mother's parents that trip, and was surprised to learn that they, too, believed he was murdered. When I was 15, Mom seemed so sure it was suicide, but now here was my father's father, plus her own mother and father telling me several different stories about why they couldn't believe it. And my mother's father does not mince words. If he doesn't like somebody, he'll say it. But he spoke very highly of my father, and I can't quite remember who said what exactly, but between my two grandfathers and my grandmother, I learned the following details:<br />
<br />
During the late 70's, Scott Air Force had a very well-known problem with drug-smuggling. The airmen would do missions in Panama, Columbia, etc, and on the side, bring home large quantities of illegal cocaine, marijuana and more. This was such a big problem, that it was actually in the local newspapers at the time. Supposedly, my father had always wanted to be a policeman, and when he enrolled in the service, he enlisted as an MP (Military Police), in order to eventually become a civilian policeman. Everyone that knew him describes him as being very brave and noble, and according to my mother's father, "he was brave to the point of naiveté." Given his nature, and the chain of events, it is entirely possible that he walked right up to the perpetrators and said "I know what you guys are up to, and if I catch you doing it, I'm going to arrest you." Now, we don't know for sure if he actually said any of this, but those who knew him seem to agree that it would have been within his character to do so. Most people would also agree that it is within the character of many drug smugglers to try and kill the people who are trying to bring them down. There is also an hypothesis that someone tried to bribe him, and he refused, which might also have led to a grudge killing.<br />
<br />
In any case, the actual specifics about who was involved in the trade, and how much my father knew, etc, are all up in the air. What almost everyone agrees on, however, is that he wanted to be a good police officer, he was honest to a fault, and he was assigned to this case. He died a few weeks after being assigned to this case. There are a few other specifics that I'll get to in a moment, but these are all details that I've learned only recently.<br />
<br />
My grandmother also told me a story I had never heard before - but which has now been verified by several sources. Apparently, my father worked part time for a local pharmacist during his off hours from the base. Keep in mind, this is rural Illinois, during the 70's. The pharmacist said he needed some extra help, and my father said he knew a guy at the base and asked if the pharmacist would like to meet him. The pharmacist said sure, and my father brought in a black man with whom he worked on the base. The pharmacist said, to the man's face, "I'm sorry, but I don't hire ni--ers." My father threatened to quit if he didn’t hire the man, and the pharmacist yelled, "Good, then get outta here, you damn ni--er lover!"<br />
<br />
My father's friend took the pharmacist to court, and my father was the key witness. When the pharmacist lost and was fined some exceptional amount of money, he walked past my father in the courthouse, and in front of my mother and several other witnesses, whispered, "I'll get you, you son of a bitch. You just watch your goddamn back." My father died only a few months after this court case.<br />
<br />
Now, the fact that he died on the Air Force base tells me it probably wasn't the pharmacist. I doubt he'd have access to the base, let alone support from the airmen on the base - many of whom were African-American, or had African-American roommates and co-workers. But still, the fact that my father had this kind of courage, and the willingness to stick to his convictions tells me he probably was NOT the type to commit suicide.<br />
<br />
Ever since I was 15, I had believed my father was a coward who had killed himself when he had a 4-month old son and a young wife at home. At times, I have felt that cowardly in my life, so I didn't judge him, but that's what I believed. And now, after hearing all of these stories about how brave he was, standing up for a man's civil rights, standing up against drug smugglers, etc., I suddenly can't imagine him ever being cowardly enough to kill himself. Suddenly, I feel almost miniscule and ashamed to be his son. Like what do I have to offer to compare myself to him?<br />
<br />
So then I returned home from my trip, and the files pretty much corroborated all the other stories I had heard by this point. Plus, I'd learned several other details - my father and mother had plane tickets to fly home in about two weeks to show me off to my grandparents for the first time. The time frame doesn't add up. Why kill yourself only two weeks before introducing your mother to your grandchild for the first time? My grandmother was Irish Catholic, for God's sakes! The moment she met me, my father would have been holier than the Pope in her eyes. It seems odd, time-wise, for him to have killed himself.<br />
<br />
On top of that, I also read in the files that my mother didn't believe the so-called suicide note (apparently the same note that I had read when I was 15) was actually his handwriting. In my uncle’s files, my mother is quoted as saying “Daniel never used upper-case F's in his letters, but in this letter, every F is in the upper-case - which could indicate that he was either forced to write this letter, or that someone else had written it for him.”<br />
<br />
I also learned that he'd died in the morning, around 9am. Statistically, most suicides occur at night. I also hadn't known that he died inside of his patrol jeep. Up until now, I'd believed that he was alone in his barracks - at night. And I had no idea he was shot in the chest. I always just imagined he had the gun in his mouth. I don't know why, but that's what I imagined.<br />
<br />
So here's a man, at nine in the morning, on a military base, when presumably most military men are up and about, marching, going to breakfast, etc. His jeep is parked in a semi-remote part of the base. The butt of the gun is on the floor between his legs. The barrel of the gun is up against his chest, and there is a fatal wound through his chest and out his back. The coroner said he didn't understand how my father could have reached the trigger in that position (his arms were shorter than the barrel). He said it wasn't impossible - just very unlikely. They also found two shotgun shells on the floor of the jeep.<br />
<br />
The “shells” information is interesting, because it suggests that someone actually cocked the gun AFTER it was fired, in order to remove the shells. If they hadn't cocked it, the shells would remain inside the barrel. If my father's wound was as instantly fatal as they believe, certainly my father could not have cocked the gun after it was fired. AND, if he did have just a few moments of breath after it was fired, why on earth would he bother to cock the gun after he fired it? It just doesn't make sense.<br />
<br />
However, the military did rule it a suicide, due to the note, and my grandparents and uncles and mother fought for almost two years to get them to change this ruling. Not only did this insult their child/brother/husband, but also the military would not give out benefits if it were ruled a suicide. My mother being only 20, with a 4-month old infant, would have had a very difficult time surviving in that position. Most of the letters in my Uncle Milton’s file were written by my grandfather, my grandmother, or my Uncle Kirk (my father's brother), fighting desperately for someone to listen to them. The other letters were written by military personnel, with cold, bureaucratic tones that sent shivers down my spine:<br />
<br />
"I thank you for your correspondence. I know it's difficult to lose a loved one, and Daniel's death is painful for all of us here as well. However, due to overwhelming evidence, we have concluded that his death was a suicide, and therefore, no further inquiries will be made. I hope with time that you are able to accept this loss.” Blah blah blah.<br />
<br />
It was very frustrating, and I began to get the sense that if my father WAS murdered, that maybe some of the higher-ups were in on it as well, and it was easier for them to cover up my father's death, than it was to expose those who may have been responsible. Otherwise, why such unwillingness to examine the situation further? Their stubbornness is what infuriated me more than anything else.<br />
<br />
In the end, my grandparents pleaded with Milton Caniff (who is my grandfather's uncle - my father's great-uncle) to help in any way he could. Because of Milton's powerful connections with the military, the case was eventually re-opened, and his death was declared a murder. In 32 years, the murderer has never been found, tried, or punished, nor was it ever fully laid to rest whether it was indeed a murder, or simply a suicide. To this day, the question is - did Milton have political strings pulled to declare it a murder? After all, the man knew every president from Truman to Ford. Or did he simply present the case in a clear and concise manner that the military hadn't considered before, and that's why it was declared a murder? I'll never know.<br />
<br />
In the end, my mother and I received full medical benefits until I turned 21. The case was never pursued further, and it remains officially an unsolved murder. I don't believe any investigation was ever held after it was declared a murder, nor was anything ever solved. So, was my Uncle Milton's involvement just or unjust? I’m very glad for his involvement, but it leaves a burning question: Did we rob the government by receiving benefits for my father’s suicide? Or did we receive proper and just compensation for a murder that occurred in the line of duty? I don't know. I wish I did. But even more so, I wish I could have known my father. In hearing all of these stories and reading all of these letters, I certainly have more respect for him now than I did when I was 15. I wish I could have known him. He sounds like an incredible man... I only hope I can be like him someday.<br />
<br />
RIP Daniel J. Guyton, A1c USAF<br />
<br />
Essay by Daniel C. Guyton (his son)</div>
Daniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-185781018446908504.post-16618511309161750462009-08-13T15:58:00.000-04:002009-09-03T15:28:45.939-04:00Two Books Published!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaI2JKXo28-Ow3GyIeSjhRZMj10UfRmOyYZBxmKc1Cg6rkOJPvavdmiKEfiwNzU8yltmhF-185tt3ffaab2l44WxJK_XPHbY8iDHUzK-1A0nXr7eUBuPl_R0mpoZTCxNgcBnUSpFDHhnU/s1600-h/MOG+Poster+1123.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaI2JKXo28-Ow3GyIeSjhRZMj10UfRmOyYZBxmKc1Cg6rkOJPvavdmiKEfiwNzU8yltmhF-185tt3ffaab2l44WxJK_XPHbY8iDHUzK-1A0nXr7eUBuPl_R0mpoZTCxNgcBnUSpFDHhnU/s320/MOG+Poster+1123.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377325295486097074" border="0" /></a><br />My play "<a href="http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-mother-of-god-visits-hell-%28a-play-in-iambic-pentameter%29/7155841">The Mother of God Visits Hell</a>" and my short play anthology "<a href="http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-twisted-mind-of-daniel-guyton-%28poetry-and-plays-in-the-dark-comedy-vein%29/7138612">The Twisted Mind of Daniel Guyton (Poetry and Plays in the Dark Comedy Vein)</a>" are both on Amazon.com now!!!<br /><br />"The Twisted Mind" is also on Barnes & Noble and other bookseller sites as well!!! "Mother of God" isn't there yet, but should be soon.<br /><br />Please go to Amazon and search "Daniel Guyton" to see both books. Please purchase, and please, please, please leave feedback!!! If you've read, seen, or even like the premise of any my pieces, please share your opinions on the Amazon, and on the Lulu.com pages!!! You do not need to purchase to leave feedback.<br /><br />If you're interested in buying, you can buy from either Amazon or Lulu.com, though I actually get a few more dollars if you buy directly from the publisher, so... I would ask that you please visit the following links to purchase (please note that Amazon keeps a larger portion of the Amazon sales for themselves. Lulu.com ALSO keeps a portion of the Amazon sales, which is why I get more if you buy from Lulu than Amazon -- and the prices are - or should be - the same). Thanks! And please visit these links to check them out!<br /><br />-Dan Guyton<br /><br />"The Twisted Mind of Daniel Guyton" (Lulu.com) -- <a href="http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-twisted-mind-of-daniel-guyton-%28poetry-and-plays-in-the-dark-comedy-vein%29/7138612" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-twisted-mind-of-daniel-guyton-%28poetry-and-plays-in-the-dark-comedy-vein%29/7138612</a><br /><br />"The Twisted Mind" (Amazon.com) -- <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-Daniel-Guyton-Poetry-Comedy/dp/0557070139/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1247787135&sr=8-2" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-Daniel-Guyton-Poetry-Comedy/dp/0557070139/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1247787135&sr=8-2</a><br /><br />"The Mother of God Visits Hell" (Lulu.com) -- <a href="http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-mother-of-god-visits-hell-%28a-play-in-iambic-pentameter%29/7155841" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/the-mother-of-god-visits-hell-%28a-play-in-iambic-pentameter%29/7155841</a>.<br /><br />"Mother of God" (Amazon.com) -- <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mother-Visits-Hell-Iambic-Pentameter/dp/0557068606/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1247787230&sr=1-1" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.amazon.com/Mother-Visits-Hell-Iambic-Pentameter/dp/0557068606/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1247787230&sr=1-1</a><br /><br />Remember, Lulu.com AND Amazon have feedback sections. Please leave feedback!! I'd love to hear your thoughts!<br /><br />Yours truly,<br />Daniel Guyton<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.danguyton.com">www.danguyton.com</a><br /><br />Some quotes:<br /><br />"The Mother of God Visits Hell has my strongest recommendation. It holds out the hope that American playwrights will move above realism. What’s more, Mr. Guyton’s talents as a poet and dramatist are stellar, and the script is a model for other dramatists." -- Steve Capra, Producer, The Living Theatre, NYC<br /><br />"The Mother of God Visits Hell... is tightly structured, with an amazing premise... The story captivates you. It has a premise that is delectable to the nth degree." -- What The Butler Saw theatre website review<br /><br />"Dan Guyton wrote a play... he knew would defy convention and test theatres on every level. Its controversial title, after all, was The Mother of God Visits Hell. He penned every line of dialogue in Iambic Pentameter and based the play on a remote poem referenced by Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoyevsky." -- Erin Rossiter, Athens Banner Herald NewspaperDaniel Guytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06563987578983937769noreply@blogger.com0