‘You Messed With The Wrong High School’ — #Lyrics To An Anti-Gun Rock Song

This would be a pop rock song that had a beat that you could dance to. It’s about Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School.

You Messed With The Wrong High School
lyrics by Shelton Bumgarner
@bumgarls
please give credit if you produce or perform

think you can walk all over us
without any care without any fuss
but let me be clear NRA
you don’t know the hornet’s nest
that you’re now messing with
you messed with the wrong high school
you messed with the wrong high school
you messed with the wrong high school

things are dire right now that true
the NRA is all powerful and adults tell us no
tell us to shut up and study hard
so we get into the school of our choice
what’s the point if we’re dodging bullets?

you messed with the wrong high school
you messed with the wrong high school
you messed with the wrong high school

[bridge]
just watch us as we fight, fight, fight
we’ve got teen spirit as they say
there’s more than life than grades
we want to live to get laid

we’re ready to show you our spunk
there’s no end to our fight
this struggle won’t be easy it’s true
thing’s are just beginning ’cause

you messed with the wrong high school
you messed with the wrong high school
you messed with the wrong high school

‘Kid’s Crusade’ — #Lyrics To An Anti-Gun Pop Song

This is my effort to talk about the Parkland anti-gun movement. It would be a peppy pop beat.

Kid’s Crusade
lyrics by Shelton Bumgarner
@bumgarls
please give credit if you produce or perform

adults are acting like children
bickering amongst themselves as innocents die
so it’s time for the kids to take control
take control of the debate
it’s time for a
kid’s crusade
kid’s crusade
we’re going to end the deaths

they say we’re too young
we should keep our views to ourselves
but adults’ time is up
they seem to be so out of touch
now is our time to make some change
we’re on a kid’s crusade

kid’s crusade
kid’s cruade
kid’s crusade

[bridge]
see on my TV screen
the NRA members scream
we’re going to shut them up
show them that Parkland is tough

this is not the end
this is just the beginning
we’re the future
those who cling to their guns the past

kid’s crusade
kid’s crusade
kid’s crudade

‘Crisis Actor’ — #Lyrics To An Anti-Gun Ballad

Writing lyrics is relaxing. These lyrics are decent.

Crisis Actor
lyrics by Shelton Bumgarner
@bumgarls
please give credit if you produce or perform

they try to tell me it didn’t happen
that it’s all a lie
the shots weren’t fired
the blood didn’t spill
my friends aren’t dead
it’s all in my head
but I know for a fact they’re wrong

I’m no crisis actor
I’m no crisis actor
I’m no crisis actor

we’re all in this together
gotta fight till our last breath
to get the laws changed or it’s or death
what can we do at our young age
when adults just scream
and act deranged
we’re in a crisis that’s the truth
but to call me a crisis actor
is just too much

I’m no crisis actor
I’m no crisis actor
I’m no crisis actor

[bridge]
we’re going to fix this problem
that’s for sure
march on Washington is just the beginning
we’re in it till the end
that’s no sin

you can claim I’m wrong
that we’re too young to know right from wrong
but adults won’t lead
so I guess it leaves it up to me

I’m no crisis actor
I’m no crisis actor
I’m no crisis actor

‘Last Man Standing’ — #Lyrics To An Anti-Gun Pop Ballad

This one turned out ok. Too bad no one cares about anything I write. But it’s relaxing to vent in verse.

Last Man Standing
lyrics by Shelton Bumgarner
@bumgarls
please give credit if you produce or perform

the day began normal enough I’m afraid
young teenagers hoping to get laid
soon enough, soon enough
things go pretty rough
active shooter alarm rang through the halls
teachers cover their children in a rush
hoping it was all a drill
who would be
the last man standing
the last man standing
the last man standing

fleeing for our lives
we screamed and screamed
hoping against hope that we would surive
would we be accused of acting once it was over
would we get death threats for speaking out
that’s the cost of being
the last man standing
the last man standing
the last man standing

finally things ended with a bang
we realized we could at last take a breath
the tears of rage began as they always do
what to do next was on our lips
it just too us time to process
our new status as
the last man standing
the last man standing
the last man standing

Could Gun Control Be Millennials’ Vietnam War?

by Shelton Bumgarner
@bumgarls

It occurred to me the other day that in a weird way, one could make a direct comparison between the Vietnam War and our current debate about gun control. With each mass shooting at a school, it hits home that the lives of young people are at stake, much like the draft put the lives of young people at risk.

So, it’s logical that it’s possible, just possible that the Parkland kids efforts at enacting common sense gun control might spark protests similar to what we had in the late 60s, early 70s with the Vietnam War. Millennials are at just the right age, too. They entering their late teens and they’re at just the right age to start to protest.

One difference, of course, is that 18-year-olds can now vote, unlike 50 years ago. So, it’s possible that if the Parkland movement really begins to take off they might be able to get things done more through the ballet box than protesting.

But only time will tell. The historical comparison eerily holds up, the more you think about it. It really does. Let’s hope it plays out that way. I’ve often said that the bad rap Millennials got came more from people my age feeling old and there being a lack of any reason for them to rise to the occasion than them being any different than any generation before them.

Maybe, just maybe, gun control will prove me right.

V-Log: Mulling #GunControl, #AR15s, War With The #DPRK & #Screenplay #Writing

by Shelton Bumgarner
@bumgarls

It looks as though we’re hurdling towards a war with the #DPRK. Or maybe not. Only time will tell. But this v-log has a few other interesting things in it as well.

We Have To Make An ‘A Rating’ By The NRA A Badge Of Shame

by Shelton Bumgarner
@bumgarls

If you want to change the national debate on gun control, if you want to save innocent lives, there’s a simple change of perspective that you can do that will help to caused that to happen pretty quick: make having an “A” rating from the NRA a badge of shame for a politician.

The reason why this is powerful is because it doesn’t cost any money. You just vow to yourself that something the whores in Congress believe is so cool is, in fact, pretty horrible. It’s the only way to combat the huge amount of dark money flowing into Congress from the NRA and their ilk.

You have to take a stand. You have to formulate some principles that you won’t waver from, no matter what. You won’t vote for someone with an A rating from the NRA. You’ll do what you can to support the efforts of the Parkland children. Tell all your friends that an NRA A rating is the worst thing a politician can have.

Get angry and don’t stop being angry until effective, common sense gun control is enacted. It’s the only way we can win this fight. It’s a battle that will take a long time and only end once we can claim total victory and lives are finally saved preemptively.

The Inciting Incident Of The ‘Big Chill’ Homage I’m Writing

by Shelton Bumgarner
@bumgarls

The “inciting incident” of a story is when it really actually begins. Anyway, here is the The Big Chill homage I’m writing up to the inciting incident. I’m going to try not to post the entire story online as I write it, but this gives you a taste of the general vision of the story. I’m really pleased with the concept I’ve managed to think up. If you want to see the entire scene summary, just let me know and I’ll send it to you.

The Big Shrug

A novella by Shelton Bumgarner

Blaze Hurt and his Korean wife Union looked at each other and grinned. This weekend was going to be an exciting one, no matter what, given the people involved. Soon enough, as expected, the door opened and a middle-aged man wearing a red Make America Great Again hat walked in and gave each of them a hug.

“Jackson!” Union said as she did. “My, your politics sure have changed since we last met.”

Jackson Colburn mugged sheepishly as he turned to hug Blaze as well.

“Well, you know,” Jackson said. “Things change. I’ve changed. Who else is here? I looking forward to catching up.”

Jackson shook Blaze’s hand and told him happy birthday.

“You’re the first person here, but the rest right behind you,” Blaze said. “There’s an envelope on the kitchen table explaining where everything is.”

As Jackson nodded and made his way past them, a gorgeous African American woman squealed and hugged them both passionately. She kissed them each on the lips as she did.

“Gaia!” Blaze said, his eyes wide open. “You haven’t changed a bit. What have you been up to since Seoul? Last I heard you were modeling in Phuket”

“Yeah,” Gaia said in a deep, silky voice. “I’ve been up to this or that. Seoul was so long ago. I try to keep my eyes on the future, not the past. Happy birthday, baby,”

She, too, pushed past the couple on her way to the kitchen.

After a moment, a middle-aged woman with a lot of luggage made her way to the door and greeted the couple warmly.

“Maude, my dear,” Union said, “It’s been too long. So glad you could make it. We’re in for a great time, I think. Things are going to be so much fun with you here.”

“You’re too kind,” Maude said. “I’m just glad I could make it. Who else is here?”

“The usual suspects,” Blaze said.

Maude smiled and made her way past the couple.

Soon, a middle-aged man and a much younger, stunning woman appeared at the door. The mood was significantly different. It was more somber.

“Hey, Tagger,” Blaze said shaking Tagger’s hand firmly. “I don’t think I’ve met your daughter.”

Tagger looked at the couple smiled, then looked down for a moment and laughed.

“This is Manhattan,” Tagger said. “She’s my WIFE and you know it, you old bastard .”

The two couples shared a knowing laugh and the tension was broken.

“I haven’t seen you in person in close to 20 years,” Tagger said. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Neither have you,” Blaze said. “You seem to have done well for yourself since then. How many times have you gotten the Vogue cover in the last few years, half a dozen times?”

Tagger looked at his wife, squeezed her hand and nodded.

“Yeah, something like that.” Tagger said. “Life isn’t a straight line, you know. But it all started in Seoul. The whole thing changed my life.”

“Well,” Union said, “it’s good to see you are doing well. Like I told the others, just go straight into the kitchen and you’ll find the information you need for the weekend.”

And with that, Tagger and Manhattan pushed pass the couple with their luggage.  

 

The group met a little later in the living room to have a drink and chat. Things were relaxed. Finally, Tagger broke the calm.

“So my old foe has finally hit the Big 50,” Tagger said, fiddling with his beer bottle.

“Tagger,” Maude said, “don’t get started with your usual bullshit. He was never your foe and you know it. We’re here to celebrate his birthday, not rehash the past.”

Tagger continued to fiddle with his beer bottle.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tagger said. “I have no idea why I’m here, it’s not like we exactly left on the best of terms. It was a long time ago, yes, but the magazine changed all our lives for better or worse. I wouldn’t be where I am today without what happened between Nuk and me.”

There was an awkward pause.

Tagger looked around, struggling to understand what was happening.

“Speaking of Nuk,” Tagger said. “Why isn’t she here? Seeing her was half the reason why I came.”

The silence grew longer and more potent by the moment.

“Tagger…” Blaze said. “There’s something you don’t know, I’m afraid. Nuk, she, she’s passed.”

“Fuck no,” Tagger said, standing up nervously. “That’s not possible. I would know. Someone would have told me. When…when did it happen?”

“Recently, about a month ago,” Blaze said. “We decided maybe it was for the best if you didn’t know, at least not right away.”

“OH MY GOD,” Tagger yelled. “You all intentionally kept it away from me? You all knew and you didn’t tell me? Really? How could you be so fucking cruel?”

“Calm down, honey,” Manhattan said. “I’m sure there’s a reason for all of this. Who was Nuk, anyway? Was she the woman you started the magazine with?”

Everyone looked at each other in shock.

“Jesus, Tagger, you didn’t tell her anything, did you?” Maude said with a gasp and placing her hand over her mouth in shock.

“Look,” Tagger said, “what I did or didn’t tell my wife is none of your business Maude. The issue is what happened to Nuk. How did it happen, damn it. I want answers!”

“Tagger,” Blaze said. “I don’t know if we need to get into this now. We’re here to celebrate life, not death. Maybe you should fix yourself a drink, calm down and relax. We can get to the details later.”

“OH MY GOD,” Tagger yelled. “I’m NOT going to calm down! I know all you think I was some sort of monster to Nuk, but she was no angel you know. We both did things to each other that we regret. We even talked about it a little bit a few years ago via email.”

“Tagger…she….she took her own life,” Maude said.

Tagger screamed and fell to the floor in front of the group and began to cry. Manhattan got next to him and attempt to console him.

“I think, I think maybe we need to be alone,” Manhattan said at last.

The couple got up and left the room.   

The Kids Are Alright: The Parkland Anti-Gun Movement Needs A Soundtrack

by Shelton Bumgarner
@bumgarls

One of the things that we really haven’t had in the last decade or so is rock music. It just doesn’t exist in mainstream music anymore. It’s really weird. I suggest that if the kids of Parkland want to really effect change, they’re going to need to start writing some rock songs.

If things are going to change, if we’re really at an inflection point, a tipping point, when it comes to the gun debate, then music has to be taken into account. The protest rock of the 1960s helped focus the attention of a lot of people and I think similar music with similar lyrics would do something today as well.

The First Scene, In Novella Form, Of The ‘Big Chill’ Homage I’m Developing

by Shelton Bumgarner
@bumgarls

I have vowed to myself that I’m not buying Final Draft until I finish a novella of the screenplay concept I’m currently noodling with. I am a complete novice and generally have no idea what I’m doing, but here’s a glimpse of what I’ve managed to write so far. This is the first scene where people are making their way into the house where they’re going to stay for a weekend to celebrate someone’s 50th birthday. It’s not much, I know, but it’s a start. You’ve got to start somewhere.

Anyway, in my fevered imagination, I see someone like Erykah Badu or Janelle Monae playing the Gaia part. Ms. Badu is the proper age for this vision, but I’m a big fan of Ms. Monae as well. Anyway, you’re not supposed to talk about who you want to play parts, but I always do what I’m not supposed to do.

It’s just fun to daydream and it keeps me motivated to daydream about who I would want to play this or that part. But I will try to control myself. Though, my birthday is coming up on the 26th, so I guess I am allowing myself to have a little fun.

The Big Shrug
A novella by Shelton Bumgarner
Blaze Union and his Korean wife Union looked at each other and grinned. This weekend was going to be an exciting one, no matter what, given the people involved. Soon enough, as expected, the door opened and a middle-aged man wearing a red Make America Great Again hat walked in and gave each of them a hug.
“Jackson!” Union said as she did. “My, your politics sure have changed since we last met.”
Jackson Colburn mugged sheepishly as he turned to hug Blaze as well.
“Well, you know,” Jackson said. “Things change. I’ve changed. Who else is here? I looking forward to catching up.”
Jackson shook Blaze’s hand and told him happy birthday.
“You’re the first person here, but the rest right behind you,” Blaze said. “There’s an envelope on the kitchen table explaining where everything is.”
As Jackson nodded and made his way past them, a gorgeous African American woman squealed and hugged them both passionately. She kissed them each on the lips as she did.
“Gaia!” Blaze said, his eyes wide open. “You haven’t changed a bit. What have you been up to since Seoul? Last I heard you were modeling in Phuket”
“Yeah,” Gaia said in a deep, silky voice. “I’ve been up to this or that. Seoul was so long ago. I try to keep my eyes on the future, not the past. Happy birthday, baby,”
She, too, pushed past the couple on her way to the kitchen.
Soon, a middle-aged man and a much younger, stunning woman appeared at the door. The mood was significantly different. It was more somber.
“Hey, Tagger,” Blaze said shaking Tagger’s hand firmly. “I don’t think I’ve met your daughter.”
Tagger looked at the couple smiled, then looked down for a moment and laughed.
“This is Manhattan,” Tagger said. “She’s my WIFE and you know it, you old bastard .”
The two couples shared a knowing laugh and the tension was broken.
“I haven’t seen you in person in close to 20 years,” Tagger said. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Neither have you,” Blaze said. “You seem to have done well for yourself since then. How many times have you gotten the Vogue cover in the last few years, half a dozen times?”
Tagger looked at his wife, squeezed her hand and nodded.
“Yeah, something like that.” Tagger said. “Life isn’t a straight line, you know. But it all started in Seoul. The whole thing changed my life.”
“Well,” Union said, “it’s good to see you are doing well. Like I told the others, just go straight into the kitchen and you’ll find the information you need for the weekend.”
And with that, Tagger and Manhattan pushed pass the couple with their luggage.