> In-Class Sudden Fiction
November 23, 2004
The ceiling, the light is blinding, bleeding through my eyelids. The straps burn. Teal pastel paint smothers the walls. A chair, the single other thing in this room, sits in the corner patiently.
The birds. The Air. Smells. Ah. Sigh. Relief. Wetness and violence. Blood, but the place is sterilized. No infection. Lice, a virus that has attacked the system.
A pool boy with blonde rich wife. Husband approves but commits crime, murder. Who dies?
Anyone? Care to seek revenge? Children at a playground. Watch these innocent devils giggle. Anti-molester posters wired to the fence. Dogs playing, laughing, pooping.
Clean these messes! I order you!
Ah, a butterfly. I see snow. Her wings have frozen, so she’s left to die. She didn’t’ make it.
Grab a gun. Fire at will! Darn! No such thing exists.
The sun is hidden behind skyscrapers in the city, and storm clouds in the fields.
Tick, Tick, Tick. A clocks’ repetition, it drives me mad.
What about what I want?
The breeze of the ocean, halt! Is suddenly interrupted by the breeze of the trucks rolling on the highway.
The newspaper, with coffee. A hammock left in ruins. War waged. Battlefield bloodied. Dead grass vs. manicured lawns. Bloody mess. Mud pies. Warm apple pies, cider and mugs.
Fresh paint. The dead body of a baby. How unfortunate. Some one sick is happy…SICKO!
Love mystery, fear death, adrenaline surging. Restlessness.
Old book smells. Ice cream taste. Make sure you aren’t too late, too late!
Alarm sounding. Ringing in your ears. Alarm ringing warning. Spreading panic and fear.
Who will remember the good times?
Who will see the bright side?
Who will hide?
To the coward: I order you to march!
Insane! Insane…insane
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
I'm having trouble
> Sudden Fiction
November 23, 2004
Click. Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. Rip. Tear. Sigh. Click. Tap. Tap. Yawn. “huh?” Tap. Eye roll. Yawn. Sigh. Shake. Shake. Shake. Click. Click. Rip. Snap. Squeak. Sigh. Tear. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. Thud! Snap. Squeak. Tear. Click. Tap.
Murmuring in the background. The white board. There’s writing on it. I have no idea what it says.
The window open. Car alarm. Whoop. Whoop. Swish. Zoom. Honk. Beep. Beep. Beep. Skid. Jack Hammer. Thud. Honk. Honk. Honk. ZZZMMmmmmmm the bus.
Cold metal on the chair. My name is called.
MY NAME IS CALLED.
WAKE UP!
A dream shaken. A world shattered. Images sharpen. Head is heavy. Class has started. Pay attention. Whatever…
Click. Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Rip. Tear. Sick. Moan. Sigh. Tap. Tap. Yawn. Tap. Yawn. Sigh. Shake. Shake. Shake. Shake. Click. Click. Rip. Snap. Squeak. Sigh. Tear. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. THUD! Snap. Squeak. Tear. Click. Tap.
r r R R RRRRRRRing!
Class excused!
Life begins…
November 23, 2004
Click. Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. Rip. Tear. Sigh. Click. Tap. Tap. Yawn. “huh?” Tap. Eye roll. Yawn. Sigh. Shake. Shake. Shake. Click. Click. Rip. Snap. Squeak. Sigh. Tear. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. Thud! Snap. Squeak. Tear. Click. Tap.
Murmuring in the background. The white board. There’s writing on it. I have no idea what it says.
The window open. Car alarm. Whoop. Whoop. Swish. Zoom. Honk. Beep. Beep. Beep. Skid. Jack Hammer. Thud. Honk. Honk. Honk. ZZZMMmmmmmm the bus.
Cold metal on the chair. My name is called.
MY NAME IS CALLED.
WAKE UP!
A dream shaken. A world shattered. Images sharpen. Head is heavy. Class has started. Pay attention. Whatever…
Click. Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Rip. Tear. Sick. Moan. Sigh. Tap. Tap. Yawn. Tap. Yawn. Sigh. Shake. Shake. Shake. Shake. Click. Click. Rip. Snap. Squeak. Sigh. Tear. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. THUD! Snap. Squeak. Tear. Click. Tap.
r r R R RRRRRRRing!
Class excused!
Life begins…
"The ceiling, the light is blinding. The straps burn and itch. A chair in thr courner, it cradles.
The birds, the air. Smells. Ah *sigh* Relief. Wetness and violence. Blood, but the place is sterilized. No infection. Lice, is a virus that has begun attacking the system.
A pool boy with blonde rich wife. Husband approves, but shoots. Who dies?
Anyone? Care to seek Revenge? Children at the playground. Innocent little devils. Anti-molester posters wired to the fence. Dogs playing, laughing and pooping.
Clean these messes! I order you!
Ah, a butterfly. I see snow. Her wings have frozen so she is left to die. She didn't make it.
Grab a gun and lets shoot! Darn, no such thing exists.
The sun is hidden behind skyscrapers in the city, and storm clounds in the feilds.
The newspaper and coffee. A hammock left in ruins. War waged. Battles. Dead grass, manicured lawns. Bloody mess. Mud pies. Warm apple pies, cider and mugs.
Fresh paint. A dead baby...how unfortunate. Someone sick is happy. SICKO!
The breeze of the ocean. The breeze of the highway trucks rolling away.
The coward who fears all.
Love mystery, Fear death, adrenaline surging. No rest.
Old book smells, ice cream taste. Make sure you aren't too late...
too late!
Who will remember the good times?
Who will see the bright side?
Who will not hide?
INSANE! Insane...insane."
The birds, the air. Smells. Ah *sigh* Relief. Wetness and violence. Blood, but the place is sterilized. No infection. Lice, is a virus that has begun attacking the system.
A pool boy with blonde rich wife. Husband approves, but shoots. Who dies?
Anyone? Care to seek Revenge? Children at the playground. Innocent little devils. Anti-molester posters wired to the fence. Dogs playing, laughing and pooping.
Clean these messes! I order you!
Ah, a butterfly. I see snow. Her wings have frozen so she is left to die. She didn't make it.
Grab a gun and lets shoot! Darn, no such thing exists.
The sun is hidden behind skyscrapers in the city, and storm clounds in the feilds.
The newspaper and coffee. A hammock left in ruins. War waged. Battles. Dead grass, manicured lawns. Bloody mess. Mud pies. Warm apple pies, cider and mugs.
Fresh paint. A dead baby...how unfortunate. Someone sick is happy. SICKO!
The breeze of the ocean. The breeze of the highway trucks rolling away.
The coward who fears all.
Love mystery, Fear death, adrenaline surging. No rest.
Old book smells, ice cream taste. Make sure you aren't too late...
too late!
Who will remember the good times?
Who will see the bright side?
Who will not hide?
INSANE! Insane...insane."
"The ceiling, the light is blinding, the straps have given me burns. A chair so comfortable it cradles.
The birds, the air, smells. Ah. *sigh* Relief. Wetness, but violent. Blood but the place is sterilized. No infection. Lice, a virus has attacked the system.
A pool boy with blone rich wife. Husband approves...but shoots. Who dies?
Anyone? care to seek revenge? Children at playground. Anti-molester posters wired to the fence. Dogs playing, laughing and pooping.
Clean these messes! I order you!
Ah, a butterfly. I see snow. Her wings have frozen so she sits left to die. She didn't make it.
Grab a gun lets shoot! Darn, no such thing exists.
The sun is hidden behind skyscrapers in the city, and storm clouds in the feilds.
Fresh paint. A dead baby...how uncomfortable. Some one sick is happy, SICKO!
The Newspapaer and coffee. A hammock left in the ruins. War waged. Battles. Dead grass vs. Manicures lawns. Bloody mess. Mud pies. Mmmmm. warm apple pies, cider and mugs.
The breeze of the ocean. The breeze of the polluted trucks rolling on the highway.
Love mystery, fear death, adrenaline surging, no rest.
Old book smells, ice cream taste, make sure you aren't too late...
too late...
INSANE! Insane. insane..."
The birds, the air, smells. Ah. *sigh* Relief. Wetness, but violent. Blood but the place is sterilized. No infection. Lice, a virus has attacked the system.
A pool boy with blone rich wife. Husband approves...but shoots. Who dies?
Anyone? care to seek revenge? Children at playground. Anti-molester posters wired to the fence. Dogs playing, laughing and pooping.
Clean these messes! I order you!
Ah, a butterfly. I see snow. Her wings have frozen so she sits left to die. She didn't make it.
Grab a gun lets shoot! Darn, no such thing exists.
The sun is hidden behind skyscrapers in the city, and storm clouds in the feilds.
Fresh paint. A dead baby...how uncomfortable. Some one sick is happy, SICKO!
The Newspapaer and coffee. A hammock left in the ruins. War waged. Battles. Dead grass vs. Manicures lawns. Bloody mess. Mud pies. Mmmmm. warm apple pies, cider and mugs.
The breeze of the ocean. The breeze of the polluted trucks rolling on the highway.
Love mystery, fear death, adrenaline surging, no rest.
Old book smells, ice cream taste, make sure you aren't too late...
too late...
INSANE! Insane. insane..."
Class
> Sudden Fiction
November 23, 2004
Click. Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. Rip. Tear. Sigh. Click. Tap. Tap. Yawn. “huh?” Tap. Eye roll. Yawn. Sigh. Shake. Shake. Shake. Click. Click. Rip. Snap. Squeak. Sigh. Tear. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. Thud! Snap. Squeak. Tear. Click. Tap.
Murmuring in the background. The white board. There’s writing on it. I have no idea what it says.
The window open. Car alarm. Whoop. Whoop. Swish. Zoom. Honk. Beep. Beep. Beep. Skid. Jack Hammer. Thud. Honk. Honk. Honk. ZZZMMmmmmmm the bus.
Cold metal on the chair. My name is called.
MY NAME IS CALLED.
WAKE UP!
A dream shaken. A world shattered. Images sharpen. Head is heavy. Class has started. Pay attention. Whatever…
Click. Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Rip. Tear. Sick. Moan. Sigh. Tap. Tap. Yawn. Tap. Yawn. Sigh. Shake. Shake. Shake. Shake. Click. Click. Rip. Snap. Squeak. Sigh. Tear. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. THUD! Snap. Squeak. Tear. Click. Tap.
r r R R RRRRRRRing!
Class excused!
Life begins…
November 23, 2004
Click. Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. Rip. Tear. Sigh. Click. Tap. Tap. Yawn. “huh?” Tap. Eye roll. Yawn. Sigh. Shake. Shake. Shake. Click. Click. Rip. Snap. Squeak. Sigh. Tear. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. Thud! Snap. Squeak. Tear. Click. Tap.
Murmuring in the background. The white board. There’s writing on it. I have no idea what it says.
The window open. Car alarm. Whoop. Whoop. Swish. Zoom. Honk. Beep. Beep. Beep. Skid. Jack Hammer. Thud. Honk. Honk. Honk. ZZZMMmmmmmm the bus.
Cold metal on the chair. My name is called.
MY NAME IS CALLED.
WAKE UP!
A dream shaken. A world shattered. Images sharpen. Head is heavy. Class has started. Pay attention. Whatever…
Click. Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Rip. Tear. Sick. Moan. Sigh. Tap. Tap. Yawn. Tap. Yawn. Sigh. Shake. Shake. Shake. Shake. Click. Click. Rip. Snap. Squeak. Sigh. Tear. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. THUD! Snap. Squeak. Tear. Click. Tap.
r r R R RRRRRRRing!
Class excused!
Life begins…
Sunday, November 21, 2004
Glaxy Quest
>How Galaxy Quest is postmodern.
November 21, 2004
Postmodernism is concerns the incorporation of the time setting of the author in a piece of work. The time frame is a reference to the events that have occurred until the 1980s. It is the emphasis on modernism where the meaning and value of the things we find in our world are viewed. The process in which things are defined as real or unreal merge and the question of this "boundary" become blurred.
Galaxy Quest is a movie where a show has become the focus for reality. Where the imagination holds truth and the once unreal interacts with the real. It is the perverted vision of role playing, and extends the fact that what is faked or acted out, could ultimately be something that must be done. The commander and his crew, in order to save the alien race must actually act as a commander and crew. They must actually function as what they've only pretended to do.
How things are seen or the way they are thought about does not necessarily prove that it is real. This idea is extended in postmodernism and in Galaxy Quest. The science fiction conventions show that there are people in this world who are willing to dedicate their lives to an alternate reality and take part in human imagination. The little kids who lived as if they were commanders themselves ended up being an essential tool in saving the alien race. Their knowledge of such a far fetched obsession gave them a surprisingly valuable and heroic role in the movie.
Galaxy Quest captures some of the qualities looked for in a postmodern piece of work. It is an evaluation of the relationship between what’s fake and reality. It is an impossibility that could be possible or impossible.
November 21, 2004
Postmodernism is concerns the incorporation of the time setting of the author in a piece of work. The time frame is a reference to the events that have occurred until the 1980s. It is the emphasis on modernism where the meaning and value of the things we find in our world are viewed. The process in which things are defined as real or unreal merge and the question of this "boundary" become blurred.
Galaxy Quest is a movie where a show has become the focus for reality. Where the imagination holds truth and the once unreal interacts with the real. It is the perverted vision of role playing, and extends the fact that what is faked or acted out, could ultimately be something that must be done. The commander and his crew, in order to save the alien race must actually act as a commander and crew. They must actually function as what they've only pretended to do.
How things are seen or the way they are thought about does not necessarily prove that it is real. This idea is extended in postmodernism and in Galaxy Quest. The science fiction conventions show that there are people in this world who are willing to dedicate their lives to an alternate reality and take part in human imagination. The little kids who lived as if they were commanders themselves ended up being an essential tool in saving the alien race. Their knowledge of such a far fetched obsession gave them a surprisingly valuable and heroic role in the movie.
Galaxy Quest captures some of the qualities looked for in a postmodern piece of work. It is an evaluation of the relationship between what’s fake and reality. It is an impossibility that could be possible or impossible.
Sunday, November 14, 2004
The Outsider
The Outsider
> Write about a theme we discussed in class
November 14, 2004
Perfection is something that the governments try to imitate through regulations. Some customs are less severe than others, but when making laws and decisions they keep in mind the idea of utopia, what’s best for their people. Social norms derive from this vision; ideas of being like perfect citizen, the model utopian. Fads controlled by the media, like Buster Friendly, and Religion, like Mercerism, are huge controls in society that are broadcasted and are the main source of influence for people to decide what they believe morally. However, there are always outsiders. It could be said true that everyone is an outsider in their own way (since it has not been proven that perfection has been entirely reached yet). In this book the theme of not belonging to the ideal human race is brought up and every character mentioned can be analyzed and related to the crisis of being included.
In this book J.R. Isadore is a chickenhead. He does not have the genetic capabilities to consider himself normal. He is below average, considered retarded. And those outcasted are indeed, left to be alone, and left to do the dirty work, “Maybe, he thought. I’ve been living here all alone too lone. I’ve become strange. They say chickenheads are like that. The thought made him feel even more glum…” (64, Dick). J.R. is a driver, not a highly viewed profession.
The androids feel outcasted as well. They are created with real organs, they have minds with the thought process of computers far advanced than the human mind, yet they remain inferior to the mass of humans that still dominate. They are not real and can be proven false. Once they are caught, the false sense of inclusion that Luba and the gang feel is then erased and they are brought to the reality that they don’t belong.
It does make sense that the drive for perfection and obligations/duties to society make the qualified human citizens like Deckard, terminate and exclude the outside parties. However, why don’t governments just accept the fact that everyone is different? That you cannot achieve complete and total happiness for everyone. They have two things in mind, to include each individual, yet they must stick with their idea of keeping everything under control, fair, regulated, and the same. Yet it is impossible to please the individual while giving them all the same thing. Each mind is different, genes are individually unique, DNA is different for every being. The idea of the outsider in this book show that it continues even in the future.
> Write about a theme we discussed in class
November 14, 2004
Perfection is something that the governments try to imitate through regulations. Some customs are less severe than others, but when making laws and decisions they keep in mind the idea of utopia, what’s best for their people. Social norms derive from this vision; ideas of being like perfect citizen, the model utopian. Fads controlled by the media, like Buster Friendly, and Religion, like Mercerism, are huge controls in society that are broadcasted and are the main source of influence for people to decide what they believe morally. However, there are always outsiders. It could be said true that everyone is an outsider in their own way (since it has not been proven that perfection has been entirely reached yet). In this book the theme of not belonging to the ideal human race is brought up and every character mentioned can be analyzed and related to the crisis of being included.
In this book J.R. Isadore is a chickenhead. He does not have the genetic capabilities to consider himself normal. He is below average, considered retarded. And those outcasted are indeed, left to be alone, and left to do the dirty work, “Maybe, he thought. I’ve been living here all alone too lone. I’ve become strange. They say chickenheads are like that. The thought made him feel even more glum…” (64, Dick). J.R. is a driver, not a highly viewed profession.
The androids feel outcasted as well. They are created with real organs, they have minds with the thought process of computers far advanced than the human mind, yet they remain inferior to the mass of humans that still dominate. They are not real and can be proven false. Once they are caught, the false sense of inclusion that Luba and the gang feel is then erased and they are brought to the reality that they don’t belong.
It does make sense that the drive for perfection and obligations/duties to society make the qualified human citizens like Deckard, terminate and exclude the outside parties. However, why don’t governments just accept the fact that everyone is different? That you cannot achieve complete and total happiness for everyone. They have two things in mind, to include each individual, yet they must stick with their idea of keeping everything under control, fair, regulated, and the same. Yet it is impossible to please the individual while giving them all the same thing. Each mind is different, genes are individually unique, DNA is different for every being. The idea of the outsider in this book show that it continues even in the future.
Monday, November 01, 2004
Metropolis
Metropolis
November 1, 2004
>Movie Response
The silent film Metropolis is a really interesting black and white film that demonstrates the style of science fiction during 1927. It is directed by Fritz Lang, who is able to capture the essence of a futuristic world and portray the emotions and split situation of the working class and aristocrats both of whom inhabit the city without vocal sounds, or color. Science fiction today typically relies on the help of technological sound and visual effects, with animation and green screens. Lang is able to use orchestral music and the conduction of the music fits the expressions of the characters’ faces or their actions throughout the film.
This dramatic and very effective music is used to set the mood of each scene, slow, low octave horns are used while the workers march, in unison, like robots into elevators. More upbeat and flute-like music is used to capture the carelessness of the aristocratic people who run around freely.
One of these aristocrats, the son of the leader of the city, is in search for a female entertainer. He finds a playmate, but has a jaw dropping reaction to the caretaker of the children. She keeps yelling to him “these are your Brothers!”
The meaning of this line shows that he has not been able to accept that he is the same being as the workers. He realizes his fortune and in reaction decides to switch places with a worker, removing himself from his title and ‘sticks his hands in the dirt’. The chief of this great city, an authoritative ruler, shows that he is angered and disturbed, but also shows signs of understanding in reaction to his son’s decision to merge with the working class.
The working class with its obligations to the city, has a unity that allows them to function even through difficult situations and portrays them as the backbone to the city of Metropolis. Metropolis is nothing without its workers.
Lang is able to create a realistic version of this futuristic city, and through the acting and music selections, he is able to show the idea of science fiction while lacking (what would be) helpful technological features (such as color, audio lines, or even computer animation).
November 1, 2004
>Movie Response
The silent film Metropolis is a really interesting black and white film that demonstrates the style of science fiction during 1927. It is directed by Fritz Lang, who is able to capture the essence of a futuristic world and portray the emotions and split situation of the working class and aristocrats both of whom inhabit the city without vocal sounds, or color. Science fiction today typically relies on the help of technological sound and visual effects, with animation and green screens. Lang is able to use orchestral music and the conduction of the music fits the expressions of the characters’ faces or their actions throughout the film.
This dramatic and very effective music is used to set the mood of each scene, slow, low octave horns are used while the workers march, in unison, like robots into elevators. More upbeat and flute-like music is used to capture the carelessness of the aristocratic people who run around freely.
One of these aristocrats, the son of the leader of the city, is in search for a female entertainer. He finds a playmate, but has a jaw dropping reaction to the caretaker of the children. She keeps yelling to him “these are your Brothers!”
The meaning of this line shows that he has not been able to accept that he is the same being as the workers. He realizes his fortune and in reaction decides to switch places with a worker, removing himself from his title and ‘sticks his hands in the dirt’. The chief of this great city, an authoritative ruler, shows that he is angered and disturbed, but also shows signs of understanding in reaction to his son’s decision to merge with the working class.
The working class with its obligations to the city, has a unity that allows them to function even through difficult situations and portrays them as the backbone to the city of Metropolis. Metropolis is nothing without its workers.
Lang is able to create a realistic version of this futuristic city, and through the acting and music selections, he is able to show the idea of science fiction while lacking (what would be) helpful technological features (such as color, audio lines, or even computer animation).
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