Ladies and gentlemen... the WrongPlanet writing showcase

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Kraichgauer
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23 Dec 2018, 1:50 pm

AnonymousAnonymous wrote:
Kraichgauer wrote:
AnonymousAnonymous wrote:
^^
Thanks Bill! 8) In fact, I've had a fascination with the idea that Kafka may have been on the spectrum which makes sense given he was emotionally insecure most of his life, never married, and was pressured a lot by his parents.


That is in fact a common opinion about Kafka.


And the same has often been said about HP Lovecraft.


Yes, and Robert E. Howard, as well.


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vividgroovy
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02 Jan 2019, 8:24 am

Here are a couple of my stories, with illustrations drawn by me:

"Clap for Ballad"

Image

https://www.deviantart.com/animagusurre ... -450218122

CONCEPT: A gryphon encounters a group of skeptics who don't believe in gryphons. The story is a satire on how non-belief is depicted in fantasy stories in which the author explicitly shows that the supernatural exists in that world.

EXCERPT:

Quote:
He set down his basket at his feet and “knocked” at the door by patting it with his lion forepaw. The murmur of conversation within stopped dead. A few moments later, a male voice said,

“Who's there?”

“Good mornin'. I'm Ballad Quill!”

Locks clicked, and then the door opened to reveal a middle-aged man in formal purple robes. He seemed shocked to find a gryphon had come to call – a reasonable response, except, of course, when one has invited a gryphon over.

“Ah, thank you for coming,” he said. “Honestly, I didn't think you would. I am Professor Rhodissian, president of the Zoho Skeptics Society.”

“A pleasure,” said Ballad, bowing extensively with the front end of his body, while his tail swished high in the air.

After an awkward pause, the gryphon went on,

“So you, uh, wanna arrange a performance er somethin'?”

“Can you spare a few minutes right now?” The man showed no fear, but he seemed to be looking past Ballad when he spoke.

“Um...certainly, mate,” said Ballad, shifting his massive body to catch the man's line of vision.

“As mentioned, we'll gladly pay your fee. You can sing if you like, but it isn't necessary. You see, we've been challenged to prove the gryphon is a hoax -”

“The GRYPHON?” squawked Ballad, staring quizzically at the man. “You mean ME?”

“I'm sorry,” said the skeptic. “I'm getting ahead of myself. We can address it – you – directly, of course. But if you're an illusion,” (He called out, beyond Ballad,) “we'd prefer to address whoever's running it!”

“THANK YOU!” came a voice, echoing through the alley. “It's so nice to get some recognition for a change!”

“So you admit the beast isn't real?!” said the man, calling out to this unseen person, sounding almost disappointed (too easy!).

“No, I admit that's actually me -” came the voice again – now Ballad's own voice, though his beak remained clamped shut. “- throwin' me voice!”

(This last bit seemed to emanate from Rhodissian himself.)

“So y'see,” said Ballad, out of his own mouth. “I'm who's running the illusion!”

“Clever,” said the skeptic, raising an eyebrow, still not addressing Ballad directly.

Despite his grudging “if”, the man plainly didn't see Ballad as a fellow living thing. Some progress! thought Ballad. Either they think you're somethin' you're not, or they think you ARE NOT at all!

At Rhodissian's invitation, the rest of the Skeptics Society emerged from the doorway and dispersed around Ballad.

“May we touch it?” asked the lead skeptic.

“It?” said Ballad. “That's me again, right? So we're at least acknowledging that I'm a solid object?”

Then it occurred to him that they might be running the illusion. Something about all this felt vaguely trappish. What if they were questers in disguise, trying to get in close so they could slay him, diffusing his skepticism by feigning it themselves? That would be a good plan. But, he thought,I have no more reason to suspect them of bein' questers than the shopkeeps do of me bein' a man-eatin' gryphon. So he went ahead and let them approach him...



"Anatomy of a Superhero"

Image

CONCEPT: This story is about my beaver artist/superhero Remi “Dammage” Vitoux. Basically, the idea is to parallel a problem with Remi's civilian art training with one in his superhero training.

EXCERPT:

Quote:
Piers clapped his free hand on Remi's shoulder. “See, this is your problem, Remi. Every artist has to paint that. You have to learn the rules before you can break them. The rest of us did it ages ago. This one was painted by the professor. Look at the light bouncing off that apple! It's so perfect, it looks like a photograph!”

Piers' voice broke a little as he said “PHO-tograph”...he was almost getting choked up over the beauty of this image.

*It's a &%@#ing apple,* thought Remi. But he didn't say anything.

“Look,” Piers went on, “don't worry! If you work at it, you won't believe how quickly you'll improve!”

“You know,” said Remi. “It's supposed to be a little disproportionate. The sculpture, I mean. See, the head's not small, the body's --”

“Hey, don't get mad!” said Piers. He took a step back and held up his hands, as if Remi had suddenly pulled out a hatchet and lunged at him. “I'm just trying to help you!”

“I'm not mad! I'm just trying to explain what I was trying to --”

“If you don't want advice, don't ask for it!”

“But I do want advice!”

“It sure doesn't seem like it. I must say, I don't envy your professors. I'll bet you're difficult to teach. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do to prepare for the gallery show.”

As Remi turned to go, Piers called after him.

“Oh, one more thing. Try coloring things the color they really are, instead of the over-saturated color you think they are!”

Piers specialized in paintings of gryphons. What color were they, really?

Remi was relieved to be back at the base that evening. Piers Yerflander wasn't a superhero. And Remi's powers had only manifested six months ago, so nobody could accuse him of being years behind the curve on that training.

He'd just been teleported through the internet by the otter superhero, Streamline. Now, he was back in an environment that resembled a retro-futuristic space station. Back out of his street clothes and into his sleek, smooth training uniform. Although he was carrying the unfortunate sculpture from the meeting room, which he'd taken with him.

His afternoon session with Dobes went...same as usual. The towering Doberman, looking like something out of an 80s action movie, staring down at him with intense blue eyes, showing him the moves effortlessly, barking orders in a booming, Bronx-accented voice. The one difference was that this time, Remi also hearing Piers' words echoing back in his mind...Most art students probably would have taken that class by now. This semester, he was only taking a couple of classes he was interested in because...well, because he was training to be a superhero. Piers Yerflander wasn't a superhero...but he wasn't trying to be one, either...



Grischa
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12 Jan 2019, 4:30 pm

This is for all the Christians in the nation


https://medium.com/@mauriceE/words-bfbe06b2b7a0



Kenya
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12 Jan 2019, 10:07 pm

I have a song that I wrote back in May of 2014 about a girl I met at a convention a month before that I've never shared with anyone else, planning to debut it possibly on American Idol or something where I know she'll hear it. My hope is to learn guitar so that I'll have actual music to go with it, but I've been debating for a while now whether or not I should share it with others when it's not quite complete, at least from a musical standpoint.



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15 Jan 2019, 4:23 pm

Could I post things others wrote once?.

Quote:
"Genre films essentially ask the audience, "Do you still want to believe this?" Popularity is the audience answering, "Yes." Change is genre occurs when the audience says, "That's too infantile a form of what we believe. Show us something more complicated."


--Leo Braudy, "World in a frame"

Quote:
"If we look for problems, we will find them everywhere. Out of concern for ourselves and our psychic well-being, let us look instead for the aspects of wonder."


--Matthew Goulish, "39 Microlectures: In Proximity of Performance", I think.



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29 Jan 2019, 4:24 am

Patience with others is love, patience with life is faith.. :| I forget if 'patience with the self' is hope or if there even was a third one in addition to the two I remember.

How much more vulnerable would I be without a roof?. How much more vulnerable would I be without walls?.



dyadiccounterpoint
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31 Jan 2019, 3:34 pm

I recently discovered my condition. It was interesting to go back over some old poetry I had written. I always liked writing shorter pieces, so I thought I would share some of them here. I realize they aren't brilliant:


------------------------------------------------
I am like my picture frame
I am empty and left to hang
With shattered glass and splintered panes
------------------------------------------------


------------------------------------------------
Cold, unfathomable chaos
Sunders to fragments
Faults converge
Render to ash
Dissociation or annihilation?

A question...
------------------------------------------------


------------------------------------------------
Behind the eyes an artist slowly dies
The mind slips to sand and finds its form again
Forever a corrupted image upon shards
------------------------------------------------


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We seldom realize, for example, that our most private thoughts and emotions are not actually our own. For we think in terms of languages and images which we did not invent, but which were given to us by our society - Alan Watts


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31 Jan 2019, 10:08 pm

‘Only animating purpose of..lives,life’..

"You have to remove your choices..*all* your choices"--suicide.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoYMpk-Wzos

Visual poetry.



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03 Feb 2019, 11:08 pm

Question: What are some common clichés associated with time-travel movies?

Title: "On Repeat"

Genre: Science Fiction

Logline: Set in the distant future, this follows a group of convicts who are sent back in time to witness themselves committing the three worst crimes on their records. If they show certain feelings, they are released, but if not after three trips back, they are imprisoned again.


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sidetrack
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04 Feb 2019, 2:16 am

I don't quite feel like going into (this time) making a speculation as to how political philosophy has developed. I remember pitching a speculation about Western art movements once. Of course, mental health concerns are inescapable in all this.

Phases of (Western) philosophy

--Ancient Greek stuff

--Ancient Greek stuff becomes arguable religioized with Ptolemy, Neo-Platonism, Gnosticism et al

--Medieval Scholasticism

--Scholasticism ends and 'modern age' begins along with the Renaissance and new takes on Ancient Greek forms of skepticism (rationalism and empiricism) becoming more 'science-y'; cue Descartes, Leibniz and Spinoza for rationalism and you might see what I mean while shoehorning John Locke, George Berkley and David Hume for empiricism without factoring/thinking too much about how they fit in as far as chronological phases go

--Enlightenment period carries on Renaissance stuff even further and Kant's Idealism is 'some sort of consummation' to me

--~19th century:German idealism is in vogue, Romanticism is as well at least as far as literature but this will eventually sculpt what love means to many to this day. Those attempts at 'mass unifying' everything with big epistemic projects look even more appealing b/c of science and applied science (tech)

--~Industrial revolution makes on everyone one way or another including the stuff which will eventually be recognized as 'existential'. Kierkegaard 'was there first' with a religious flavour but it's Nietzche's inflammation which makes for the vocality of
most of the b.s. on the internet which is conflated for human nature which is going to need to end*; 'Continental' and 'Analytic' school divide begins

--More deeply complicated involvements with science particularly via math (*cough*formal logic*cough*) and the paint palette of moodiness that is existentialism grows even more

--Wittgenstein says nigh-everything needs to go to the trash b/c es un cuestion de lenguaje/it's a language issue. Big 'mass unifying epistemic projects' kind of fizzle out with Positivism by the 50's.

--Concurrent with politicized movements, thing finally get more so 'de-academic'. If you believe it happened then, would you believe in it now b/c of the internet?.

--We recognize the intersectional polyphony that comes with factoring non-Eurocentric cultures (b/c that *is a thing*) and marginalized groups who we dreaded to even factor in as community: examples include feminism.

My honest opinion on the present is that we got the post-Wittgenstein focus on language going on in several ways from high-end science and tech becoming informational to internet identity politics/ the need for expounding on rights, human or non-human as with the environment. Settlements and concessions on forms of assisted death are going to be the un-ignorable deal-breaking consummations of identity politics and the most dangerous to ignore*..our new 'arenas' are not so much social mechanisms and institutions if not at least as much as the psycho-geography of the internet.

I give this to lasting another ~30 years before anything effective different becomes more of thing.

From what I remember 'Digimon' are made out of the data from the internet become sentient in the vein of 'Iron' and taking on personalities and an arguable corporality. If 'wrong planet' made for a Digimon or several what would they be like?. What of self-learning 'AI' capable of making Youtube videos and images?.

All the sci-fi sceneries of ppl have their consciousness uploaded onto the internet or computers are going to remain beside the point if we don't settle things. *Functional apathy is going to need to become obsolete if we are seriously going to be involved profoundly with computational knowledge or information.


I realize how I didn't make explanations for political philosophy history nor Western art movements..the former, what is present in the former and what needs to be around more in the latter esp. with the internet: compassion.



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18 Feb 2019, 2:04 am

A pitch for a (short(?)) story idea for anyone who has the enthusiasm to write it and do it without feeling obligated to give credit:

A short story which starts with an 'Ancient thinker' (a Greek intellectual in Alexandria ?) stargazing and pondering about the position of the stars and the change in distance overtime. Having read 'Cosmos' by Carl Sagan long ago is on my mind.

Switch to someone underclass and middle-aged who doesn't care much for science and starts believing a 'Flat Earther movement' espouser. The 'meat and potatoes' of the story would be highly detailed introspective accounts of the experiences that person has of leadership, popularity, while relying on epistemically irresponsible appeals to conspiracy theories et al and becoming well to do in contrast to a younger person he's never meet being disparaged as 'nerdy' by other but thinking much in the same way as that 'ancient thinker'..climax of tense confrontation between the 'Flat Earther' and earnest younger high schooler about how the Earth is not flat.

The latter 'does not win' and the movement catches on. The high schooler finds solace in a group of 'kindred spirits' and their is a finally noting of how friendship grew among a group of people whose knowledge was increasingly depopularized in spite of it's evident factuality b/c of politicization.



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24 Feb 2019, 1:12 am

I have no body but am tired.

I am foreign to my body but am tired.

I am fighting for my soul.



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27 Feb 2019, 1:53 am

Want, agree, right, wrong and care..

I came to fear these words when they came from the perceptually unsatisfying auditory faces of ppl.

I came to fear these words when they came from the faces of ppl.

I came to fear these words when they came from the ugly voices of ppl.

I came to fear these words when they came from the ugly voices of ppl with faces I could add as well



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23 Apr 2019, 9:32 pm

Attention || Ontological supremacy.



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06 May 2019, 2:20 pm

My late father loved reading and watching Westerns, so if I can overcome a bad case of writer's block on this story, I will make sure it's written in a way he would have liked.

A title has yet to be determined, but the lead character will be female in the vein of "The Man With No Name" and Robert Rodriguez's "El Mariachi" character.

Pitch:
A Neo-Western in the vein of Sergio Leone's "Dollars Trilogy" and Robert Rodriguez's "Mexico Trilogy."

Logline:
After arriving in a small town and hired by a family to be an in-home tutor, a mysterious woman seeks revenge on behalf of the girl she suddenly becomes the protector of.

Synopsis:
After arriving in a corrupt small town and hired by a wealthy family to be an in-home tutor for their only child, a mysterious woman seeks revenge on behalf of the girl she suddenly becomes the protector of as they race against time to escape the town and its people who take pleasure in ostracizing. With her skills in using sharp objects as weapons, the woman vows to fight back in order to get the girl to a safe place.

Had my father managed to get through his treatments without any problems, he would be turning 60 today. Any potential titles would be much appreciated and even though I am not a huge fan of Westerns, I agree with many that the Western genre deserves a much-needed comeback.


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Zack1994
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20 May 2019, 4:22 pm

A Grade
By Zachary Goodwin

It was afternoon, the sun was shining through the window. A teenager was lying on the bed. He has a backpack next to him on his bed. The bed has a blue blanket with white sheets, and a white pillow. The bedroom had a dresser and a closet. There was a light above the teenager and a light on the dresser. The room was somewhat messy. The teenager on the bed had on a logo T-shirt, jeans, and white socks on. He pulls out his iPhone and goes through his texts. The teen finds text messages with his father about how to clean his car, another one on how to mow the lawn, and lastly how to sweep the floor. One of the text messages he reads reveals the teenager's name is Thomas. The text message reads from his father, "Thomas, if you could tell yourself you can do it more you would not feel so bad everyday. You are very smart."
The teenager opens up his backpack to pull out a math test which has a failing grade on it. The teen has a sad face. He pouts and says to himself while puting his hand on his face, "I'm going to fail high school."
Thomas with a frustrated look text messages his father again, "How can you be so sure that telling myself I can do it would work? I have a quiz tomorrow." asked Thomas again.
"You are my son and I care a lot about you. Just try telling yourself that you can do it and I think all will be well!"
Thomas's books in his backpack are laid out and closed. It was now 5 PM. The teenager closes his eyes and has a tired look on his face.
"I can do it. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it.", he repeated to himself.
Thomas falls asleep on his bed and snores. It is morning. He hears his alarm clock again. Soon Thomas rushes out the door with his backpack. Time passes by, and it is now late afternoon at 3 PM. Thomas opens the door looking at his math quiz grade,
"Why can't I do well!"
He then gets a text message from his father, "I heard about your quiz grade. Your mother told me after I was done with my meeting."
Thomas text messages back,
"It's just a lousy grade."
His father texts back, "Just a grade? Thomas you have so much going for you, but you need to try in your studies. Read and go over your notes and read the textbook."
"It won't work!" Thomas texted back.
"It will be better. Anyway, I have some news for you, my boss told me that I need to work overtime. I'll be home at 10 PM. I understand you are a light sleeper, but you got to finish your homework and go to bed at a decent hour."
Thomas feels somewhat tired still. He looks at his bed and then his bookbag, and then his bookbag again. Thomas looks there and there again. He sighs, goes for his bookbag, and gets to studying for his math test. Thomas reads the textbook and fills out papers. Time passes by until it is night.
"Thomas, dinner's ready!" said his mother.
In his bedroom is his meal his mother cooked. Thomas then cleans his room. He still focuses on his studies, reading and going through his notes. It is now 9 PM.
"I'm going to fail again." said Thomas sadly.
He slightly shakes his head and opens up his iPhone to reveal a text message from his father telling him to keep on telling yourself you can do it. Thomas sighs and he goes to sleep. He wakes up, grabs his bookbag, and he walks to the door. Thomas is somewhat scared he will fail the test; he then looks at his phone for his text message from his father. Thomas closes his eyes and then says to himself, "I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this."
Thomas takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, and walks out the door then closes it. Time passes by and he slowly opens his bedroom door again and walks into the bedroom slowly. Thomas looks at the paper. On the paper is a 97 A+ test grade.
"Yes!" said Thomas excitedly. Thomas then gets a text message from his father,
"See Thomas I told you you could do it! Your mother and I am proud of you. Good work."
"And I bet to you that I can get an A on the next test. Dad, I want to pass my classes and be as happy as I can be about it." Thomas texted back.
Thomas lays back on his bed smiling. He takes a deep breath with his arms on the back of his head on the pillow. Thomas then opens up his bookbag to get the books out of the bag.
"Just a grade." Thomas then laughed, "More like a great grade." He relaxed and smiled again. "I can do it and get through it. I'm going to pass high school." He then went back to studying for another class.