Pretty much one year today we started filming Ghostumentary, and now... it's online. It was a debate what to do with it. We sent it out to a couple of the bigger Film Festivals, each one giving us the nicest letter saying "We love it, we don't know what to do with it."
Then we talked to a few distribution companies but each really wanted to limit an audience and roll the dice in specific markets.
We came to the conclusion that we really wanted as many eyes as possible on it. So, let's just put it online.
So, here it is.
First, it's on Amazon. So if you're looking to rent something... here you go.
First off, you're going to hate reading this post as much as I hate writing it. It's because my favorite character in the Star Wars universe had ALWAYS been Boba Fett. It was my favorite toy growing up. I used to write personal fan-fiction stories about him as well and hide them under my bed so my brothers wouldn't find them a ridicule me.
I've always kept a close eye on him through life. I sat a little taller when he came on the screen. He was my guy. So this is why it was so painful to notice a few things over the years that made me realize that he may be the worse character in the Star Wars story itself.
Let's talk about when we first see Boba Fett (before Lucas screwed up on the second round of edits). He's on board Darth Vader's ship among other Bounty Hunters. Oh wait... no... not true. He actually was first seen animated in the dreaded Star Wars Holiday Special.
He rides a dinosaur, but basically verbally and physically abuses them. Not cool man, not cool. When he's discovered to be bad, he runs away from a group of unarmed rebels.
So NOW we're back on the Empire. He has one job, get Han Solo by the orders of Darth Vader. But wait, he already had this job for Jabba the Hutt. So now we have a guy who's double dipping bounty rewards. What a dick. Right?
Mark... set... go... he's off to find them. How does he do this? He hangs out in the garbage. Seems creepy but, alright. Han and the gang take off, he follows quietly all the way to Bespin. Boba is known as one of the galaxy's deadliest bounty hunters, and he proves is by calling for back up when he gets to Cloud City. Instead of getting Han alone, he alerts the Empire to do it for him. Essentially only qualifying for a finders fee. But who am I to butt in.
Side note, how did the Empire beat Han to Bespin? Did anyone do the math there? This leads me to my next theory where Lobot is Snoke... don't get me started.
So, Darth Vader captures everyone, Boba watches and in return gets to take off with Han for a very undeserved reward. Boba is like that one guy at your job that watches everyone work, then takes all the credit.
We enter the next episode and we're in Jabba's lair. Essentially it's hanging out in a friend's basement because he has all the pot. Boba thrives. He walks around in his Mandalorian armor talking to alien chicks about his days of glory. Mandalorian armor that if you look at, really doesn't fit him very well. It's like the first time you wear your dad's jacket and your hands don't poke through the sleeves. What does he weigh? A buck twenty five?
Leia sneaks in and is in disguise, threatens everyone and Boba gives a nod. Essentially saying "I appreciate you not talking off your helmet, so I don't have to either."
Can you imaging the musk in there? It's like hot-sick dug up from a musty-stump at Endor.
Now we're in the desert, still latched on to Jabba in a desperate attempt to be accepted, rides bitch on the barge. All hell breaks loose and bam...
Fett gets rammed from behind and finds his jet pack has activated. So here's where I really find him to be a little bitch. Have you never flown with it before? I mean, your dad fought off Obi-Wan Kenobi with it, you act as if you just found a spider in your sock drawer. You scream like a 3 year old girl and land in the sarlacc pit. To die a thousand deaths or something bitchy.
At least your Dad battling Jedi, you fell prey to a pothole in the sand.
So, with a heavy-heart I spew out the thought that Boba Fett was truly the worst character in the Star Wars Universe.
So 2015 was a very good year. I fell even more in love, I grew closer to my kids, made a film (Ghostumentary), and I went to my first Burning Man.
Though it was my first, it was Emilee's 5th. So I had a little insight. Also, many of our friends have been going for years, so gobs of info was thrown my way.
We were joining a successful camp who took me in like a lost, but loved cat.
The drive was what I expected, a lot of time in a car slowly driving by Navajo Taco stands.
A lot of dust, few radio stations.
We get to camp and set up. Tent missing parts, shelter as well. I turned up my Macgyver a went to town. Success.
Bikes, so many bikes. We spent the next few days on our bikes riding around and taking in all the art. All the people.
And all the boobs.
There was an excessive amount of nudity. That perhaps makes me sounds like a prude. By no means am I. I mean, Holy Cats! I LOVE nudity. I love boobs. I think most people do. And beyond the sea of 55 year old penises I had seen (seriously, I saw a gaggle of naked men on bikes) I had seen so many boobs that I couldn't see anymore.
Imagine eating your favorite cookie from a giant tub. How many cookies do you eat until you can't eat anymore cookies.
Cookies = Boobs.
Prior to leaving one of my coworkers said "you're going to be high the whole time". I asked him why he believed this. He said it was because that's what people did there. One of the giant misnomers people have about the event. Beyond our morning mimosas, it was one of the most soberishly fun times of my life. It seemed to be that way for most people I surrounded myself with.
Our camp hosted a full-size Hungry, Hungry Hippo event. Popular enough that a Business Insider covered it. Afterwards, a good friend slipped something in my hand. It was a mint. But not just any mint.
I was just given acid.
I placed it in my pocket and journeyed out into the deep playa with Emilee to take pictures of her in her wing.
The wings were amazing. She had them specially made for Burning Man. You couldn't walk by someone with out a compliment. People taking pictures of her. She looked so beautiful. As usual, no one even knew I was there.
I took a crazy amount of photos. Each one was amazing. I posted a few on Instagram only to see them immediately stolen. It's the internet, it happens. But one girl actually claimed the photos where her.
A few of them went viral and were picked up by the Daily Mail, Huffington Post, Mashable, etc. Her ass almost broke the internet.
Walking back from the shoot, I switched lenses in my pocket a few times and must have pulled out the acid that was lingering there. Lost somewhere in our path.
I literally "dropped acid at Burning Man".
The basics of my adventure was this. There are so many good people out there. Far more than you have remembered. I hugged people, I gave things away, I was given even more. I watched people smile, laugh and love. I didn't see people fight. I didn't see people indulge. I didn't see people sad or lonely.
I saw people at their best. I was at my best as well.
I'm going back again someday. Once probably wasn't enough for me. But before you judge the event and the people who go, I truly believe you should go yourself.
You'll see the bright side of humanity again, and have a little more hope.
Interesting thing about 2016. I started the new year with an adult-type car, I purchased stocks, I decided after a decade it was time to have a credit card again, and I threw away over half my homelessish wardrobe.
I'm not a complete adult yet, but I taken a giant step towards one.
Are adults still allowed to tell poop jokes?
Last month we finished principal photography on our documentary "Ghostumentary". We did a few investigations, talked to people on the streets, and interviewed one of our new favorite people, Dr. Loyd Auerbach. Being a skeptic is difficult when you converse with someone who has intelligent answers to your stubborn questions.
We just scheduled our screening for the 18th of October in a 700 seat venue. More info on that to follow.
I've completely lost control of my email. I can't even archive it fast enough. There was a time when I used to label for later. One of the biggest files? The mass forwards of jokes my Dad used to send me. Not only did my Dad forward me dozens of jokes a week, he's ask me about them the following week.
"Did you like that joke I sent about the Nun?"
"Sure Dad" [Giant lie]
I miss my Dad and in a weird way I miss the forwards.
Probably why this folder isn't going anywhere.
Maybe one day my life will be spent forwarding these to my kids.
It doesn't help either that the reality TV shows looking for them never find anything. Ghost Hunters has been on Television for a decade(ish) and hasn't ever produced any real evidence. And they have a budget that could feed my fat family Golden Corral for a year.
Yet most people I know HAVE seen something. Generally only armed with an iPhone. I never assume they are lying when they tell me their tales. I truly believe they think they saw something. I just don't believe it's a ghost.
A few years ago I decided I'd actually try to have my own ghost story. A friend I were going to drive from "haunted" location to location and film our investigations. It seemed like a fun project. And it almost happened until he did a bunch of cocaine in my house and almost punched my girlfriend.
We no longer talk.
But on SuperBowl Sunday I learned that good friends had a relative that purchased an old brewery in Virginia City, NV and have been bombarded with supernatural activity. I watched a view videos and decided it was time to try again. I hooked up with a fellow filmmaker, grabbed our ladies and headed down last weekend for a sleepless quest.
We still have a long way to go to finish this film. More locations, gobs of interviews and research. Things to make it more informative that just a few people with a camera trying to find a ghost.
But... as I continue to film and dig through footage, I will post little chunks of good stuff we find.