Idea #6: Stemming the Invasion of Kipple

Description
I've been following through on the long-held idea to buy a car and move to another place, so I've been too busy to mull over hare-brained ideas. But while unpacking my stuff, I came up with one for getting rid of old stuff. I got rid of as much stuff as I could while packing, by put it out on the lawn with an ad on Craiglist saying "Curb Alert: Free shit!" (which is surprisingly effective - people [with horrible psychologically-based hoarding issues, no doubt] troll Craigslist for those kinds of ads), and dropping everything else off at Goodwill. But I still have all this stuff.

So I thought, "You know, if a fire rips through your home or a burgler puts his gun to your temple, there's really not much stuff you care to think about, other than your life." I wondered what I would choose to keep if someone put a gun to my head and said, "Is that really something you need?"

An extreme situation? Yes, definitely. But if this were some kind of new revival of the Saw films, and  Jigsaw were mind-fucking me to make me see some deeper meaning in life or something - what would I choose to get rid of in that dire situation?

The idea: each week, pick 10 things that are unnecessary to the continuation of my life and toss them in the trash. They could be big or small, like when playing strip poker and choosing to take off the watch or a sock so my shirt doesn't have to come off. But eventually, just like strip poker, I'd get down to the bare essentials. Every week, I'd get closer and closer to the smallest set of things I really needed.

Steps
1) Look around my room full of unpacked boxes.
2) Pick 10 items as I see them.
3) Throw them in the trash. No excuses.
4) Repeat the next week, moving to the various drawers of junk I have.

Enthusiam: Right now, with tons of stuff clogging up my smaller room with no basement to store junk in, it seems like a fantastic idea. I think my enthusiasm will wane as soon as I allow myself to make excuses for the things I keep.

Practicality: Seems incredibly practical, until some time in the future when I look around for something I decided to throw out during this life overhaul excercise. Whoops - there I go making excuses already.

Difficulty: Maybe humans are born hoarders - it's as difficult to let go of things as it is to accumulate them.

Idea #3: Roomates: A Saga of Intrigue and Despair and Beer Cans and Dick Jokes

Standard sink condition
if it were set in the kitchen

Description
A play about living in a house full of roommates. The setting would be entirely within the living room, so it would be ideal for a play because scenery changes would be unnecessary. Set the stage so that the couches of the living room would face the audience, as though the people in the play were looking at the TV, and the audience would be looking at the actors as though through the television screen. The actors could enter and exit through the sides of the stages as though they were entering and exiting through the front door, bathroom door, bedroom door, kitchen door, etc. The play would focus on the various stories behind each roommate, some that would include the other roommates, while others would be secret from the roommates altogether.

Steps
1) Outline the story.
2) Learn how to write in the format of a play.
3) Dedicate time to writing and bang out the scenes.

Originality: This would be like the stage version of Australian author John Birmingham's non-fiction book of the best stories from his years living with dozens of roommates, He Died with a Felafal in His Hand, except set in one living room. Although it would be really tough to compete with Birmingham's stories.

Enthusiam: Medium. I've had this idea before. But I have yet to dedicate any time to thinking about the stories that would drive the play.

Practicality: Not very, considering I consistently dedicate my time to other pursuits. But something to keep in mind for the future.

Difficulty: Very. Have you ever tried to write a play? I really don't know how Shakespeare banged out so many in his lifetime.