Jacob’s Escalator

Sorry it’s taken me so long. We’re up to Exercise IV, I just haven’t posted this one yet.

Anyway, here it is… the theme was character. Parts I and II consisted of making a character, first by a short paragraph and answering several questions from a list, then by actually describing them in a scene that portrayed their job.

Part III… was writing a kiss scene in three different viewpoints - first person, third person omniscient (with everyone’s mind open to the reader) and third person objective (as an observer). Read More »

Cherry Trees

Pink pedals sprinkle the grass.
Pink pedals shower the lawn.
Pink pedals rain o’er the yard.
Pink pedals grace their old home.
Pink pedals cascade in the wind.
Pink pedals blanket the landscape.
With time comes only greatness.

Okay. Exercise two.

Part one: Join a scene and an emotion in a paragraph or poem, using images to describe it in great detail. The scenes and emotions you can pick are listed. I picked high noon on the river, and… sinister. I’m not sure if I did well, the teacher wasn’t sure if I had picked dangerous or sinister. >__>

Part two: write a bad poem. Like, bad poetry, the worst that you can imagine. Then explain what’s so terrible about it.

Part three: Take a paragraph that was given to us, and space it out to turn it into a poem. In a poem, timing is everything, so the spaces were important. Then write a paragraph explaining your reasoning on the spaces. Then at the end of that paragraph, define the difference between prose and poetry.

I got 100% on this assignment~. Read More »

While I do not (or try not to) assume that whoever I might be talking to understands the faces I make in internet conversation, I do tend to make these faces anyway, out of reflex, to express emotion. It has been brought to my attention that frankly, you have no idea what they mean. So, I hope to clear this up, on the off chance I use them in my posts. That, and because evidently, my writing amuses you, and you haven’t had any of my words for a while, so why not? Read More »

http://www.fairgamed.org/fairgame.htm

ENEMY :

SP Order. Fair game. May be deprived of property or injured by any means by any Scientologist without any discipline of the Scientologist. May be tricked, sued or lied to or destroyed.

Absolute0SK (3:09:45 PM): How come they’re allowed to exist? > >
Absolute0SK (3:09:48 PM): I don’t think that’s legal.
Mavrick882 (3:10:22 PM): Anon’s get followed home, killed, raped, whatever the f*** they feel like doing to us. And Scientology protects them within the law, so if you don’t have a mask…Do one brave thing, then run like hell.
Mavrick882 (3:10:54 PM): Scientology hides behind being a “religion”.
Absolute0SK (3:11:05 PM): Religions are not allowed to kill people.
Absolute0SK (3:11:07 PM): That’s legal no matter what.
Absolute0SK (3:11:09 PM): *illegal
Mavrick882 (3:11:24 PM): Scientology has some of the best damned lawyers.

Anonymous is a strange entity.

They have their own sort of religion, in a way. Anonymous is everyone; everyone is Anonymous. They’re a group of people on the internet who are… bored. They hide out on the internet where anonymity is easy to preserve and discuss many things. What separates them from other ‘groups’ of the internet is that they act.

If you are bored enough, search Youtube for a video on Fox News’ report on Anonymous. Be aware before you search that Fox News is - pardon my italian - retarded. They don’t know anything about the actual Internet or the actual Anonymous. (I don’t know or care if they can be trusted but I heard a comment on Youtube somewhere that stated that the Fox News anonymous they did a report on wasn’t at all related to the actual Anonymous.) Read More »

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As a younger schoolgoer, I hated English class. First it was my natural expertise at spelling and grammar that bored me; then it was the constraining styles of writing that frustrated me (Five-paragraph essays are WORTHLESS). However, as a younger student, I also enjoyed the reading portion of the class. I liked the novels they gave me to read. I enjoy childish, fairy-tale type stories, the stories with conflict and fighting and difficulties, but a somehow happy ending (or sometimes not very happy, but somehow satisfying). They also stick to themselves. They don’t try to reach out and mess with me, or point to things outside of itself.

As I’ve gotten closer to college level classes, however, things have changed. The average writer’s skill gets closer to my own, so more freedom is allowed, and I can use my skills as much as I please. Writing is a pleasure, even those boring essays. The situation has… inverted.

So has the reading situation.

College-level literature isn’t hard. It is not particularly difficult for me to understand. It’s merely intolerable. I hate it.

I like to read a story that’s only a story. I like to read a novel that’s all about plot and characters, and whose plot advances by a character’s actions, not by what happens to them. (If you can’t imagine a story that advances by events, think of tragedies - all the characters seem to just be watching each other die.) I like a story that’s told for the sake of the story, like the Dark Tower, like Night’s Dawn, like Orson Scott Card’s books and Stephen King’s books and Robert Heinlien’s (spelling…?) books, not these collages of symbols and themes. Read More »

“The Celebration of the Initiation of the Activation of the Emancipation Proclamation” - Eric Claybrook

I didn’t have the heart to explain that the Emancipation Proclamation came several decades prior to MLKjr’s civil rights movement.

Today is the fourth of January, 2008. I wish to extend a belated welcome into the new year. I have high hopes about this one, if only because it is a multiple of four and therefore a new president will be due.

My sight, while it is quite far when I look down at the escalator’s lower reaches, is limited when I look up. Clouds and choice platforms obscure my vision. However, I’ve studied the stars and plotted a bit of my course, so I can give you a little insight into what the year holds, for me and for this site.

Those very close to me - most notably, my parents - are aware of my short-lived desire to write a story based on Rush’s song 2112 Overture. Now that I have a good place to release my writing, I have decided to take up the pen and the MP3 player and once more see what can be made from someone else’s story. The length and completion date of this mini-saga I am not sure about, but I know it’ll take a lot longer than the 20:37 it takes to listen to the song itself.

Very few of you readers know all that much about the things I know a lot about - Pokemon, perhaps, is the most memorable of these. Pokemon has held my interest since I was about seven (or something) and the first game came out for the ancient Gameboy. However, it’s a concept extremely difficult to grasp for most of the adult family, for two reasons;

1. Its extremely large scope. Pokemon Red was strange enough; Diamond, one of the newest, is thrice as complex. It would be hard for anyone to fully understand at first.

2. The fact that my mouth is disabled, in a way. Stupid ADHD.

However, Pokemon is definitely not the only interest of mine that could use a bit of explanation for you. Therefore I hope to soon introduce a new category of posts, where I describe to you in my own thoughts something that interests me. Once you’ve learned a bit about something that interests me, some of the pictures and posts I might write about that something will make more sense to you.

Which leads me, finally, to the Digital Artwork category, which I hope to begin publishing works in. Digital Artwork is fancy longhand for “Sprites”. Before I post any of these “sprites”, I will write an introductory post that explains them and their usage. They are a bit too unwieldy to be described here.

As for my new year, I have so far only made one resolution - one that I think I can keep, realistically. That resolution is to practice guitar once a day, every day, for at least an hour. I think that between this blog, a few interactive stories, work, school, school work at home, work work at home, the friends and the family, I can spare a whole hour each day. Don’t you?

(Please read the Prologue)

After some time of sitting on the stair, digging through the backpack, I finally stood and cast my eyes about. The wind had died since I’d gotten aboard, although the cold made the air nearly tangible. Far, far below, the earth glowed a soft white color, decorated with shadows that were the marks of rolling hills and valleys. This was on the left side of the stair; to the right, mountains were much more clearly defined, and they held an almost blue shade, with their bottoms and tops covered with snow.

I looked back down at the backpack. Whose was it, I wondered. How did it get lost on the Platform of 16? Was it abandoned intentionally, or is someone looking for it? I reached down and took the notebook from it, flipping through its pages. Nothing - not even a page torn out. It was totally unused. I reached down and grabbed the pencils, and I saw they too were sharpened to a point - but completely unmarked.

A sudden fervor came over me and I sat down again, holding the side of the escalator against my back. I flipped open to the first page and began to write.

It’s been a while since I got on this particular escalator… the view hasn’t improved much, which disappointed me. Indeed, my life seems to be getting… well, worse isn’t the word. It’s actually wonderful. Fuller, perhaps? The long hours I used to have to myself are fading away. I hope I get used to that. I’m not sure if I ever will, but I certainly hope I do.

But I look around at myself, and things are indeed wonderful. School is going well. It’s no longer a breeze! Huzzah! Something to occupy myself with - now if only I could actually occupy myself with it. And friends, I’ve been out a lot more and enjoying the company of others, and that’s… actually much better than I imagined. I must do that more often. And I have a good, palpable talent now - I can play guitar! Well, sort of… but I’m working on that. I keep dreaming of going big, and then I have to keep knocking myself down because surprise is a much better emotion than bitter disappointment. But I know I’ll at least try. Once. Twice, as many times as it takes…

I frowned. I was wandering around with this paper. Where was my topic? My theme? My point? The answer was simple: there was none. And did there have to be? Maybe not, not now. I looked around again, this time looking up and not down. The sky was filled with papers and objects and pictures, flying hither and thither, cast about by people and various other escalators. I grabbed one as it flew near; a message from my Father, to “all readers”, with a vast collection of beautiful snowflakes he himself had made out of paper. I smiled at it, stuffed it in the back of the Notebook, and quickly returned to writing.

In any event, I will try to dedicate some of my fading free minutes to this Notebook I have come across upon the Escalator. My life might not interest you - none of me might, in fact - but I’ll write all the same. (I pause, willing more appropriate words to come.) I hope that you’ll enjoy reading the works of my eyes and imagination.

Until there is more to write about - happy living!

I smile. “That’s enough for now, I think.” I tore the paper from the notebook; to my amazement, the words have copied onto the next page, saved to be seen again, later. I stood and held the paper out over the side of the escalator; the net of winds caught it and whipped it about before I even let go. When I did let go it was whirled about and seemed to split into many, flying through the skies to be seen by the masses.

I sit back down and begin to think, smiling. What to write about next…?