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josh_bowe
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Name: joshua anthony
Location: Rome, Italy
Gender: Male
Interests: movies, friends, and that damn basketball.........but damn in a good way like when a hot chick passes by and all da fellas go "ooooohhhh daaaaaaaaaaammmn"
Expertise: sports knowledge, basketball, and helping others, being an absolute nigga
and gangstah
Occupation: Artist
Industry: Media
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  joshbeezie
Member Since:
2/2/2004
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| So for some reason I felt compelled to write out a novelization to The Dark Knight sequel. First off the movie won't come out till 2012 at least (ain't that a stinker?) and I think it would be fun to throw in my ideas, plus being able to use Heath's joker because I think if he was still alive everyone would be perfectly fine with him returning, maybe not the main villain but in there nonetheless.
So I'll keep posting chapters when I have free time and if people actually like what I write. So let's get started shall we?
(Oh and for a title I'm being really lazy and doing The Dark Knight Returns. And yes I know that's a Frank Miller graphic novel but some of the other prospective titles I've heard tossed around (Caped Crusader and Shadow of the Bat) sounded really dumb to me.)
The Dark Knight Returns
by Josh Bowe
Prologue:
Stan Connley walks through the corridor with a sense of dread and boredom.
"Can't believe I have to do this every night," he mutters to himself, almost hoping that one of the security cameras picked up his snide sediment.
"Just five more months ago," Stan thinks to himself. "I was out there."
Five months ago Stan wasn't patrolling a dark and quiet mental institution.
He was on the streets, for better or for worse, patrolling the loud but equally as dark city. But three court appearances and a plea bargain later, Stan has to settle for rent-a-cop duties.
Justice has been a rude awakening for most of the men in blue in the last two years. Corruption isn’t as widely accepted as it used to be. Even though Stan was on a payroll however, he never became a mobster. He just had to turn away from certain things, that’s all.
“I even helped put some of these loonies in their cells,” he quips to nobody, almost justifying him to forces above.
But tonight at least there is some variety. Some journalist wants to actually sit down with one of these “patients” as Stan references them sarcastically.
The institution officials determined that the later the better for this interview. The less commotion made, the better. Stan hears the buzzer call him annoyingly, disrupting his daydream of years past.
He presses all the keys and swipes all the cards necessary to get the door to click.
As Stan opens it, he finds to no surprise, the journalist wait patiently with notebook and recorder in hand. The report fit all the billings of what Stan had in mind: Skinny, glasses, and a pretentious smirk.
“Right this way Mr..” Stan says awaiting the name.
“Charles.” The reporter says astutely. “Bill Charles, Gotham Times.”
Stan gives a nod of reassurance, and leads Charles into the bowels of the institution. But Stan knows that’s just the politically correct term.
“Welcome to Arkham Asylum.” Stan says, mocking a tour guide. “Surely you’ll find all the comforts of home here.”
Charles looks into one of the empty cells about to be cleaned by the late night janitorial staff and his stomach at least immediately disagrees.
“So they never told me which nut you wanted to talk to, just what ward,” Stan says. “But judging by the ward the doctors told me, any pick and you’ll be in for a treat.”
Charles doesn’t say anything, and starts to sweat a little. Stan notices this. Seems to be his nerves he thinks to himself.
“Must be somebody real whacked,” He mutters.
After what seems like an eternity to Charles, Stan finally arrives at the hallway of Charles’s destination.
“Ok, ok, which room is it,”
Charles fumbles for a slip of paper in his pocket and reads the doctors predictably terrible handwriting.
“7-26.”
Charles swallows a lump in his throat as the color starts to wash out of Stan’s face. Stan manages to pull it together and proceeds to unlock the door. He offers some small goodbye.
“Good luck.”
Charles goes into the room. Slightly padded on the walls. Completely dark except for a one lightbulb hanging by a wire. It illuminates a single steel desk and chairs. He notices them bolted to the ground and he starts to relax a little.
“Well at least I won’t get the chair,” he says to himself. Like his jokes are going to really win him over this interview.
"Why hellooooo Charles,” the patient says with a familiar cackle. “I’ve been so eager to meet you after all this time.”
“Why is that?” Charles responds puzzled. His editors helped him get the clearance to run this interview. He never talked to the patient, just some Arkham officials and a detective.
“So much to say, so much to say,” the patient continues.
“Well, uh that’s exactly why I’m here,” Charles says as he starts to get ready and try to get comfortable as humanly possible. He sets the recorder down, the red light on, and gets his notebook out and a brand new ballpoint pen.
“So first, I think one of the main things people wonder is, what’s your past like? Any family at all?”
Immediately after asking this question Charles wonders if he has already asked too deep of a question. He looks up as the face slides into the light of the bulb.
Charles puts his head right into his notes.
“The less I have to look at him, the better” he thinks to himself.
He writes down first a few quick observations as he hears the patient clear his throat to answer the question.
He mainly writes down these descriptions because the patient is almost unrecognizable to what he’s seen before. A buzzed haircut and a clean face except for one glaring blemish: the infamous scars.
Charles can’t believe it. He supposes the haircut was a mandatory thing, almost like the army. He had never seen his real face before.
The patient’s answer quickly draws Charles back into focus.
“Oh Mom and Pop, such a tragic story,” he says. “Almost makes me want to cry.”
Hysterical laughter follows, as the patient can’t even keep what is obviously a false statement.
“Do you even know your parents, or who they were?” Charles follows up.
“Eh, I prefer not to go there,” the patient quips back. “The past is so boring to me. Why go back there and think about old actions when you can have so much fun right now.”
The emphasis on ‘right’ makes Charles want to stand up and leave. But this is his break. He gets this story and he won’t have to send a resume in to other media outlets.
“Why such a pessimistic outlook on life then? “ Charles continues.
“Pessimistic?” the patient asks, with an exaggerated surprised look on his face. “I would like to think I’m doing everyone a favor and being the only realist in this city.”
“It’s a dog eat dog world out there, and I like to say that I’m the vet. Whenever those dogs get sick of going after each other, I can get them all better and back to normal.”
“So what you’re saying is that man is in nature destructive and whenever something good occurs, you like to restore that balance?” Charles says. He’s feeling more confident and at ease somehow.
“In a way…” the patient trails off. “For a while there, it looked like it would take a little bit longer to get this city back on track.”
“But now it looks like everyone thing is almost perfectly in chaos.” The familiar laugh starts up again.
“Looks like my best friend isn’t Mr. Hero after all, huh?”
“Well, yes it certainly looks that way…and I notice your choice of words: ‘best friend’” Charles says, as he believes he’s onto something remarkable. “Would you care to elaborate on that word choice.”
The patient sits back and shakes his head.
“Tisk, tisk, that’s grown up discussion there.” The patient says mockingly. “In fact I think we’re done.”
Charles is in shock, just as he was onto a once in a lifetime interview he’s already blown it.
“But if I could just ask a few more…”
“Save it.” The patient cuts him off. “Excuse me guard? We're done here.”
Stan had been watching through the small door window the entire time. He notices that the patient is done and he goes to unlock the door.
Charles gets up hastily; upset but still thinking he has a manageable amount of info the write up at least something. Stan opens the door and shuts it as quickly as possible behind Charles. The patient offers an eerie wave of goodbye as Stand pushes Charles to walk faster.
“The faster we get out of this ward, the better,” Stan says.
As Charles puts his pen away, something catches Stan’s eye.
“Wait, let me see your pen,”
Charles offers it up willingly, bewildered by what he could want with it. Stan gives it a quick look and he finds what got his attention. A small tracer is blinking on the side of the pen.
“What is this?” Stan starts to raise his voice. “Why do you need this for your pen, lose it often” Now Stan is really sounded irritated.
“I don’t even know what that is, I just grabbed a pen to borrow from the officer that I received the information from about this interview.” Charles says. “I didn’t want to use one of my old ones.”
“What was the officers name?” Now Stan is starting to get worried.
“Uh I believe Detective Flass.”
Stan’s heart almost skips a beat as he rushes back to the hallway. Flass is higher payed up with all the wrong people than he ever was back in the days. That tracer could have been located on a GPS. He runs to door 7-26. He looks inside the window.
"Oh my God"
Stan watches in terror the back of an armored van plows its way through the back of the patient’s room. The patients sits there almost as if nothing happened. Stan yells at Charles to leave and get help as every alarm in the Asylum goes off. Then it only gets worse.
Stan tries to open the door but it wont budge, not even after security clearances. The alarms triggered by the truck’s impact have put the entire place on lockdown. None of the patients doors will open to anything until the alarm can be turned off. By the time that happens, they’ll be well on their way. Stan gives chase to the emergency exit as the patient crawls into the back of the armored van. He passes the guard station and gets a 9mm pistol. "This is my fault, I have to do something," He thinks.
He gets through the door as the van starts to rumble out of its wreckage to his left. Stan takes careful aim at the back tire closest to him, and lets lose a round. It slows the van just enough for it to spin out. He let’s lose his extra clip into the rest of the tires he can see.
He connects on about half of his shots, enough to get the armored van to ride on its hubcaps. More guards and cop cars seem to be coming out of every corner of Stan’s vision. The screeching sound of metal against pavement ring at his ears as a patrol car is able to get the van to stuck on a grassy median.
Stan wipes the sweat from his forehead as he heads back to Arkham to make sure everything’s all right on the inside and if any other guards need his help. He hears the cops screaming at presumably the driver to get on the ground and to stay still.
“At least I did something right in my lifetime,” he says to himself.
“Oh and did you ever.”
Stan feels the knife cut into his throat like butter. The warm blood starts to pour down his neck and onto his chest.
“I’d like to thank you Stanley on a truly bang up job,” the patient coos. He never got in the armored van. The obliviousness of his plan finally sinks into Stan’s mind as he sees the unmarked police car pull up.
Stan falls to the ground, bleeding, dizzy and in shock. He takes his last breaths to think about what he’s done.
The patient climbs into the back seat and gives a smile. He roles down the window, not to say goodbye. But to laugh.
"Dear God forgive me for what I’ve done." Stan is almost gone. As his eyes roll into the back of his head the last sounds he hear is the cackling, piercing laughter fading away.
The Joker has been set free in Gotham once again.
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| In Baseball terms, the dog days of summer are roughly around June/July usually before the All-Star break. It's when you are right in the middle of the season, you're stuck in a rut, because the freshness of a new season has worn off, and it's oh so long before (hopefully) you can start looking forward to the playoff push.
I think right about now (or coming up, they will be in full stride in the middle of October) are the dog days of fall. Which implies to school, but is more adequate with college. The cool, "Hey it's a new school year!" is starting to wear off. You've now reacquainted with your college friends, and now the classes are starting to become even harder (and usually duller) than they were at the start. Yet, you have nothing to look forward too usually, as Thanksgiving is a month away and that's only a three day break usually, with Christmas following about another three weeks after thanksgiving.
For me, It's come a little earlier, thanks to the hellish work load I encounter week in, and week out.
Honestly If I had just the basic class workload, I would still feel overburdened. But now newspaper has taken over my life, and if it weren't for me having an absolute love for sportswriting, I'd be in hell as we speak.
But as amazing an experience working on the paper is, it's hurt a lot as well: I put stories above papers, interviews over study times for tests and so forth. The schedule has also made me have to quit Lacrosse AND the radio station. Simply put, when you have four stories a week, it doesn't leave much time for anything else.
Also contributing to the dog days of fall happens to be my roommate Paul, but it's ok as I'm starting to get over that. Simply put, I have nothing to look forward to anymore. I wake up with the same routine everyday. Class, Study, Stories/interviews. Maybe I find time for eating, maybe not. Usually not. And then videogames. Yes as much as a sportsgeek and workout freak I am at times, I love me some electronic entertainment. But I haven't touched my systems in about over two weeks coming up, and that's sad times for me. Luckily our Apt. complex has an outdoor basketball court, so I try to take about an hour or two to shooting. (Yes that's a hard concept for many, "why practice when you aren't on a team or anything, why shoot by yourself?" If you have to ask that question, you should probably get to know me better haha.)
So right now I have to celebrate my little victories throughout the weeks, the little things that can turn a day from routine to special. Such as The Office season premier tonight, Amanda's 20th birthday party this Saturday, and the release of Iron Man on Blu-ray next week.
And as much as I would LOVE to find a girl right now, I almost think it would be too much. I don't think a girl deserves me right now, as a girl needs to be payed attention too, spent time with, and spoiled every now and then. And right now I would not do a girl justice with my schedule. It's, as it always is, a "me" thing. Maybe I'll find one that understands my hectic life? Or find someone with just as busy a schedule as mine? Who knows, but I cannot let it be the burden of my thoughts, as hard as it is for it to be.
So I guess Christine, since you are the only one I know with at least more than 90 percent chance will read this. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATS UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
man that post was way too serious and well written. jesus christ lets get some typos in hear! god oh mihty. I need to hang 10 and busta move
SRSLY OFFICE TONITE I AM SO EXCITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTEDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
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| Y HALO THUR!
sorry I'm just SUPER PUMPED for my newest entry, the return of josh_bowe ladies and gentlemen!
I went back to reading my old posts, and almost all of them had at least one of these comments
"Josh, update please, your posts are so funny!"
So with that (and mainly to Christine's pestering) I'm back!
So a lot has happened in the year my xanga followers. I broke up with Meredith, went to College....oh wait looks like I did catch that in my last entry, well ok so since then, I saw The Dark Knight, The mavericks have sucked, I'm kicking ass as a sportswriter at college, I saw the Dark Knight, and figuring out how to exist as a nice guy in this un-nice world we live in.
So I used this to tell what's on my mind, so as the Joker in The Dark Knight (read my facebook note review, It was truly breathtaking and a visual masterpiece) says, "here we go!"
First some things I can't write on facebook status's because my roommate is also a certified creeper, I think I officially hate my roommate Paul, now Travis on the other hand rocks.
But Paul is a womanizer, a one-upper, and fake. Three of the things I HATE the most in people, esp that first part, but ladies I forgot where being a jerk to women gets you to sleep with them? Come on now ladies be better than that! Take a chance on that quiet, tall, awkward dude standing around talking to people and making them laugh. It'll be a life changer I promise, haha.
And also the one-upper thing makes me want to punch a baby (speaking of babies, why are all my friends having them?) here are some excerpts of actual conversations
Conversation Number one:
Paul : "So what are you cooking for dinner Josh?"
Me: "Uh, I guess a pizza, or a sandwhich, or maybe nothing, not to hungry." (authors note, I really need to eat more)
Paul: "Oh well that's cool, I think I'm cooking up some chicken with some home made salad and salad dressing, I'll probably marinate the chicken too."
Commentary: What is this the food network? I could give a rat's ass what you do with the chicken just as long as you don't have sex with it. Jesus tap dancing Christ (thanks Mom) just tell me you're making chicken, THAT'S ALL I CARE ABOUT.
Conversations Number two:
Paul (coming into my room) : "So uh guess what your high school is nationally ranked in football?"
Me (without looking up, saying this answer before he finishes the word football): "One"
Paul: "Yeah, that's pretty amazing."
Me: "Yep"
Paul: "Well you know my high school won six state championships in a row."
Me: "That's awesome."
Paul: "Yeah we were real good." (Leaves)
Commentary: So I want to be a sportswriter for a living, and you think I wouldn't know my high school is ranked number one in the nation in September?! I've known since early August, and thanks for clearly trying to win back your pride by telling me how many titles your Kansas team won, sorry but Football is bigger AND better in Texas.
I could go on and on, but I don't want to type them all out, more examples include, him trying to tell me the Royals stadium is better than the Rangers, him gloating about how much alcohol he drinks, when at parties, he clearly is a lightweight, talking about how Longhorn Steakhouse (where he works) as if the second coming of Jesus will occur there, and how hot all the volleyball players are, and how I should ask them over to the apartment sometime (seriously, you can't make that up), also finding a girls shoes as I went to get something to drink at about 3 in the morning is a frequent occurrence. Maybe I'm jealous of him and the girls he gets you say? While I am a little sore about not finding anyone up here, I wouldn't want to be with any of the girls he brings home, I honestly don't know how they don't gorge his eyes out after 10 minutes of speaking with him.
So after that you may think that I am having a miserable time here, I'm not, as Paul does manage to introduce to me good and fun people (somehow) and I know they'll never read this but hanging out with Amanda, Whitney, and Mark always make a bad day a good one. The first two will be going with me to see MOTION CITY SOUNDTRACK on Mass st. this friday, YES. And since she'll never read this, I have a crush on Whitney, just not sure if I want to pursue it because she is such a great friend, and God knows I need them more than ever up here by myself in a way.
As for the newspaper I write four, yes count 'em, four stories a week. It's tough, but its my life and I love doing it.
Classes blow. It's class
So that about wraps it up I think.
oh yeah
I forgot
I'm supposed to make my posts long with spaces so there we go
and the game I am currently gaming isn't out yet, not till October, but I'm playing the online multiplayer beta with phill and it kicks ass!
damn right | | |
| as the title implies college is busy Mondays: class 11-1 then 3-4. then homework later that night. my unbussiest night Tuesday: class 12-1 then 2:30-3:45 then work from 6:30-9:30 followed by more homework Wednesday: class 11-1 then 3-4. KJHK sports radio meeting at 5 then lacrosse from 5:30-7:30 and you guess it more homework Thursday: class 12-1 then 2:30-3:45 then lacrosse from 5:30-7:30. more homework Friday: class 11-1 then 3-4. then work from 4:30-7:30 then maybe homework and of course its party time. Saturday: if its a gameday and i'm working with the radio station i have to meet up at 3, dont get home till around 11. if i'm not working with the radio station tailgate around 3 or 4. get home around midnight or later. (but this day is actually fun) Sunday: lacrosse from 1:30-3:30 then lots of homework and laundry. of course thats not all i do. i'm sorta writing for the newspaper. i have to think of some ideas. and i'm having to write about homecoming. OH GREAT I LOVE HOMECOMING. plus the various projects and tests that require more studying and homework. i know more people are busyier. but whatever. also sorry about emo xanga post. now that i am busy i dont have time to be lonely or sad. hahaha nah being busy actually means meeting more people. i finally have a cool group of bros to chill with from lax, floor, or radio station. oh and i bought halo 3. which figures into every moment of my existence. hahaha | | |
| so college. seems to be all i'm writing about. maybe its because it is the root of all my happiness and sadness. (yuck i hate the word sadness, anyone think of a better word? cause depression is too strong)
In one hand, i love walking to class, enjoying how beautiful the campus is, going to the lecture classes to disscuss intersesting topics, and totally kicking ass in a higher level english class. I love hanging out with my new friends who share the same humor as i do, and the occasional halo 2 deathmatch or madden showdown doesnt hurt either. I love that while it may be a club sport, i am still playing a sport on the college level, it just makes me realize that i've accomplised something. I love that i will be doing radio broadcasts and writing for the school paper.
In the other hand, i hate being away from my friends... my girls (meredith, lauren, christine, ashley G and S, emily) my boys (phill, patrick, robert, jeff, alex, will, keith, cameron, tristan, cody and the countless others) i hate that sean asks about me 5 times a day, still not really understanding where i am. i think suprisngly if i could do one thing, it would be to see him. i never realized that while sean was growing up, i was there. brian was in college/out of state for work. and i was his bro, his true bro and best friend. he would watch basketball games on tv even when he didnt want to. he tries to play videogames even though he has no idea what hes doing. He even went to the movie theater with me (which he never does, he cant sit that long) and SAT THE WHOLE TIME during batman begins...now whenever batman is on tv we watch it. i hate not being with brian. we got so much closer right before i left. and yes i miss my parents. who wouldnt? I also hate that i mostly eat my meals alone, that my math class is rediculously hard. i hate that my bros on 10th floor ALWAYS want to drink..like not just weekends. every damn night. i hate that lacrosse practice is tearing me apart physically. i hate that i have 58 dollars left to my name and its so damn hard to get a job here.
theres the thing....the hate is so much more than the good.
but i dont hate college. i love it.
i'm just missing things i thought i would never miss.
sept. 25th pleeeeeeease come quicker.
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