I’ve invented a new form of pornography.
We all know how traditional porn works: it’s just naked naked naked, skin skin skin. Nothing but nudity. After a while you’ve seen so much epidermis that everything begins to lose context. Breasts lose their shapely resplendence and their capital b to become breasts. Just breasts. Like a carriage returning to a pumpkin, they lose their magic and revert back to what they are: mammary glands. Sure they still come in a variety of sizes and shapes and colors, but what’s the point?
The same thing happens to every part of the body. From the mysterious feel of the privates to the elegant elongation of the limbs. After seeing too many they lose their grandeur and you begin to feel like a doctor who’s just going through the motions. And this process isn’t limited to specifics, but to the full figure as well. The thrilling beauty of a bare body is soon lost. Just as breasts lose the magic of their individuality, so do the people. No longer people, in fact, but simply images of people: more akin to objects than individuals.
But not anymore.
The answer is so simple it's obvious after you’ve considered it. We simply do away with the mountains of mammaries, the volumes of vaginas, and the profusion of penises. We narrow our focus. We go from the panorama of an establishing shot and zoom in for a tight close up. We focus in on the individual.
Not just any individual, no, that would be too easy; nothing but a case study. The key lies in exposing yourself (no, not in that way...just yet). Gone is the way of unintimate anonymity. Replaced instead with familiarity. Why leer at pages of strangers when you can find an individual who actually knows you. Not only knows you, but likes you! Loves you even! Imagine it!
The moonlight isn’t subtly framing just any breasts in pale moonlight; they’re gently illuminating Her breasts. That goofy looking dong isn’t just any dong, that’s His dong! If you were to lose yourself in their body you’d be able to find your way by the familiar constellations of freckles that dot the landscape. Round the tattoo she regrets but that you secretly find endearing, left at the scar from where he fell off his bike, make a stop at those laugh lines for the scenic outlook of their smile.
Yet some naysayers are surely saying, “You are mistaken, good sir! Why, limiting yourself to only one individual would be a great bore. It would be like limiting yourself to looking at one painting for the rest of your life.”
But oh ho ho, dear reader, for that is where they are mistaken! A person is not a painting. A painting is only good for looking at, but a person is good for so much more. A person evolves. Each part of their body is constantly changing, stories and memories attach and detach to every piece creating a flowing tapestry that only you will have the experience and expertise to decipher.
Now there’s a multimedia experience that is sure to put any other to shame.
And yet, while this type of pornography I’ve invented is extraordinary, it is also fragile. One wrong move could potentially ruin everything. But that doesn’t mean you can no longer engage in art appreciation. For if you feel the need to take in a few painting or some artistic photography, just be sure to follow museum rules: look, don’t touch, no loud noises, be respectful, go home when you’re done.
Showing posts with label Creative Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Creative Writing. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Punny Titles
So a year or so ago I started watching this little series of animation shorts called Blamimations. One of their running jokes was for the two characters to bounce ideas of one another and then having their set-ups lead into a punchline title. For example:
Anyways, it got me started and from time to time I've tried my hand at making my own. So here is the collection of all the ones I've done so far.
12/08/2010
Armed with only a magical squirt gun, high schooler Jonas Salk must defeat the demon that crippled his girlfriend. It's called, Super Salker.
12/08/2010
It's a sitcom about depressed vampires. It's called, Sucks to be You.
01/19/2011
A dark comedy about a widowed man and a smart aleck bird. It's called That's so Raven...what do you mean that title's already been taken!? Damnit, Raven-Symone!
02/02/2011
03/06/2011
Meet Jane Eyre. A walking social disaster that has just landed her dream job as a Safety Inspector. Although a string of kooky clients generally keeps her pretty busy, she can't help but notice that something is strange about her new boss. Can she handle her life, her job, and a mystery? Coming this Fall it's, Eyre on the Side of Caution.
06/01/2011
Milo is a depressed gondolier living in Venice who's lost sight of life's beauty. That is until he comes across a mermaid who's wandered into the Venetian canals and together they discover the wonders of the city and of life. It's Splash meets Roman Holiday, it's called: Venice de Milo.
10/08/2011
A woman overcomes her drug addiction through mountain climbing. It's called, I'm So High.
10/08/2011
Children's Book Idea: Dino Sores: A Child's Guide to Epidemiology
10/08/2011
A group of students at a school for the blind team up to solve mysteries. It's called, No 'I' in Mystery.
10/09/2011
After 45 years working at the bucket factory 70 year old Walter Pail loses his job. With a sick wife to support, Walter desperately needs to find another job. However, no one will hire him because buckets are all he knows. With the bills mounting he's left with only one option: participate in a kickboxing tournament to try and win the grand prize. He's gonna kick ass or die trying. It's called, Kick Bucket!
10/22/2011
Jenni Takahashi is a sullen and introverted 13 year old. That is until she meets Gregory Zane, a young boy who was raised by Giraffes. With Gregory's help Jennie starts to learn what friendship is all about. It's called, Stick Your Neck Out.
10/26/2011
A motley crew of 5 elite fighters, each one missing one of the 5 major senses, team up to fight evil. It's called, Senseless Violence!
Dirk Shaughnessy is a bare-knuckled brawler who can FEEL no pain!
Clementine Jones is a sniper who's never HEARD the word "impossible".
Chad "Zato" Matsumoto is a weapons expert who has never SEEN a person he couldn't kill.
Larry Williams is a demolition expert who doesn't mind the SMELL of blood.
and Noelle Durand is a former circus performer who has never had a TASTE for killing...but that won't stop her from doing it anyway.
11/04/2011
After all the master wizards of the world have been defeated by a fearsome demon the only one left to face it is an incompetent wizard-in-training named Peasly. Clearly outmatched Peasly uses the only spell he can think of and ends up accidentally trapping the demon in his bladder. Can he hold it in until he can figure out a way to defeat the demon? And can he do it while the demon whispers not-so-sweet flushings in his ear? Find out in: You Gotta Go.
12/05/2011
Matokai Jun is an intelligent, but socially awkward high school freshman. She'd rather just fly under the radar, but that's hard to do when you've just found a magical pair of shoes that can turn you into a monster. Especially when people with similar powers start showing up. Ones who aren't so inclined to lie low. It's “怪洵後-ハイ”! [Kaijun Kou-High]
12/05/2011
When all the senior members of Sen's high school math club graduate, they leave her in charge. Why? Because she's incredibly smart, spirited, tenacious...and the only one left. Now it's up to her to revitalize the club to its former glory, but first she's gonna need to get some other members. It's “千π”! [Sen Pi]
1/15/2012
Chuck was just an average grunt at a local McFly's franchise. That is, until the day he was exposed to a contaminated tub of chicken wings and transformed into a chicken! Sure it wasn't long before he returned back to normal, but the real problem is that it keeps happening! Can he keep these unexpected bouts of avian transmutation under wraps until he can find a cure? Find out in: Guess What, Chicken Butt.
"Stephen Hawking gives up his life as a quantum physicist and uses his incredible mind to solve murders. It's called, A Brief History of Crime."
-Blam #9
Anyways, it got me started and from time to time I've tried my hand at making my own. So here is the collection of all the ones I've done so far.
12/08/2010
Armed with only a magical squirt gun, high schooler Jonas Salk must defeat the demon that crippled his girlfriend. It's called, Super Salker.
12/08/2010
It's a sitcom about depressed vampires. It's called, Sucks to be You.
01/19/2011
A dark comedy about a widowed man and a smart aleck bird. It's called That's so Raven...what do you mean that title's already been taken!? Damnit, Raven-Symone!
02/02/2011
- Another dark comedy, but this time a novice beekeeper finds out his queen bee is actually a witch. It's called, BeeWitched.
- It's a talk show where noteworthy curmudgeons come together to complain about the topic of the day. It's called, We Bitched.
03/06/2011
Meet Jane Eyre. A walking social disaster that has just landed her dream job as a Safety Inspector. Although a string of kooky clients generally keeps her pretty busy, she can't help but notice that something is strange about her new boss. Can she handle her life, her job, and a mystery? Coming this Fall it's, Eyre on the Side of Caution.
06/01/2011
Milo is a depressed gondolier living in Venice who's lost sight of life's beauty. That is until he comes across a mermaid who's wandered into the Venetian canals and together they discover the wonders of the city and of life. It's Splash meets Roman Holiday, it's called: Venice de Milo.
10/08/2011
A woman overcomes her drug addiction through mountain climbing. It's called, I'm So High.
10/08/2011
Children's Book Idea: Dino Sores: A Child's Guide to Epidemiology
10/08/2011
A group of students at a school for the blind team up to solve mysteries. It's called, No 'I' in Mystery.
10/09/2011
After 45 years working at the bucket factory 70 year old Walter Pail loses his job. With a sick wife to support, Walter desperately needs to find another job. However, no one will hire him because buckets are all he knows. With the bills mounting he's left with only one option: participate in a kickboxing tournament to try and win the grand prize. He's gonna kick ass or die trying. It's called, Kick Bucket!
10/22/2011
Jenni Takahashi is a sullen and introverted 13 year old. That is until she meets Gregory Zane, a young boy who was raised by Giraffes. With Gregory's help Jennie starts to learn what friendship is all about. It's called, Stick Your Neck Out.
10/26/2011
A motley crew of 5 elite fighters, each one missing one of the 5 major senses, team up to fight evil. It's called, Senseless Violence!
Dirk Shaughnessy is a bare-knuckled brawler who can FEEL no pain!
Clementine Jones is a sniper who's never HEARD the word "impossible".
Chad "Zato" Matsumoto is a weapons expert who has never SEEN a person he couldn't kill.
Larry Williams is a demolition expert who doesn't mind the SMELL of blood.
and Noelle Durand is a former circus performer who has never had a TASTE for killing...but that won't stop her from doing it anyway.
11/04/2011
After all the master wizards of the world have been defeated by a fearsome demon the only one left to face it is an incompetent wizard-in-training named Peasly. Clearly outmatched Peasly uses the only spell he can think of and ends up accidentally trapping the demon in his bladder. Can he hold it in until he can figure out a way to defeat the demon? And can he do it while the demon whispers not-so-sweet flushings in his ear? Find out in: You Gotta Go.
12/05/2011
Matokai Jun is an intelligent, but socially awkward high school freshman. She'd rather just fly under the radar, but that's hard to do when you've just found a magical pair of shoes that can turn you into a monster. Especially when people with similar powers start showing up. Ones who aren't so inclined to lie low. It's “怪洵後-ハイ”! [Kaijun Kou-High]
12/05/2011
When all the senior members of Sen's high school math club graduate, they leave her in charge. Why? Because she's incredibly smart, spirited, tenacious...and the only one left. Now it's up to her to revitalize the club to its former glory, but first she's gonna need to get some other members. It's “千π”! [Sen Pi]
1/15/2012
Chuck was just an average grunt at a local McFly's franchise. That is, until the day he was exposed to a contaminated tub of chicken wings and transformed into a chicken! Sure it wasn't long before he returned back to normal, but the real problem is that it keeps happening! Can he keep these unexpected bouts of avian transmutation under wraps until he can find a cure? Find out in: Guess What, Chicken Butt.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Old Enough To
We all know about those momentous landmark ages. At 16 you can drive, at 17 you can see R movies, at 18 you can smoke, at 21 you can drink...and that's it. There's so few of them! You have a whole life to live and yet there are so few occasions to revel in the unlocked features of a Level Up. Or are there? I have looked into it and collected some of the unlocked abilities that are out there for all of us to look forward to and enjoy.
Additional Landmark Ages
- >0 - Old enough to be an individual
- 5 - You can to attend Kindergarten
- 6 - You now have to pay to ride the bus
- 7 - No more choking hazard warnings on toys
- 10-12 - You can get your Junior SCUBA certification
- 13 - You can get a Facebook page (without resorting to deceit)
- 15 - You can now A) get your full SCUBA certification, and B) Be on American Idol
- 16 - You can now A) donate blood (w/ parent's consent), B) be an Olympian, C) be a jockey, and D) get your Private Hot Air Balloon Pilot's License
- 17 - You can get your Pilot's License
- 18 - You can now A) buy a rifle/shotgun, B) Gamble, C) Vote, D) Buy spray paint, E) Get Married, F) Change your name, G) Rent a Port-a-Potty, H) Pawn something
- 21 - You can A) buy a handgun, and B) get a Taxi Cab Driver's License
- 23 - You're old enough to join the FBI
- 25 - You can A) rent a car, and B) run for Congress
- 26 - You can no longer be drafted into the military
- 28 - You can no longer be on American Idol
- 30 - You can run for Senate
- 35 - You can run for President
- 37 - You can no longer join the FBI
- 55-62 - Eligible for Senior Discounts
- 65 - Eligible for Medicare
- RIP+24Hours - You can be cremated
- RIP+1Year - Eligible to appear on a postage stamp (but only for former presidents)
- RIP+2Years - Eligible to get your face on currency (but only for former presidents)
- RIP+5Years - Eligible for A) Sainthood, and B) having a landmark named after you
- RIP+10Years - Eligible to appear to appear on a postage stamp (for everyone else)
- RIP+70Years - Your copyrights expire
Monday, August 23, 2010
Post-Postal Apocalypse
While every letter I wrote for the Extravaganza was different I thought I'd give you a little peek into one of them. The following is the opening to letter #33. While most of the letters weren't quite so literary, every once in awhile I'd go on a kick. Overall they didn't turn out too bad, which is surprising because I did it on the fly and in pen.
“The city looked bleak. At least that's what people said. The sun would brave a quick peek from its blanket of smog and dust, illuminating the wreckage of relics that made up the former metropolis. People would gaze upon the landscape as if the light were showing it to them for the first time and they'd sigh. Then the sun would disappear, the gloom would return, and the people would mutter, to no one in particular, “what a bleak city”. Sonja did not see it that way.
To say the city was “bleak” would be inviting the mistaken interpretation that the city was bare. Certainly there was less of it after the years of bombing, but even rubble takes up space. Sonja preferred to say that the city was doleful. Doleful. A proper definition wrapped in a bright and colorful set of syllables; the product of a rose-colored dictionary. If you can't find enjoyment in the little things you might as well lay down and try to catch an explosion on your tongue.
These are just a handful of the thoughts running through her mind as she walked home. Miraculously her apartment building had survived, thus far. Sure the roof was gone, and sure the toilet's pipes weren't connected to anything anymore, but it was familiar and that was nice. She began to walk up her front steps when she noticed her mailbox was broken. Its lid had come right off. Not that it mattered in this post-postal world, but she picked it up and was just about to return it to its proper place when she noticed something. There was a letter in her box. She picked it out of the tattered mailbox and looked at it. As the realization of what it was hit her, she laughed.
'Well,' she said while still chuckling, 'I guess it's better late than never.'
Hiya Sonja! This letter is super late, but not so late as to be sent in some post-apocalyptic, war-torn future. So, in the grand scheme of things, it isn't very late at all.”
“The city looked bleak. At least that's what people said. The sun would brave a quick peek from its blanket of smog and dust, illuminating the wreckage of relics that made up the former metropolis. People would gaze upon the landscape as if the light were showing it to them for the first time and they'd sigh. Then the sun would disappear, the gloom would return, and the people would mutter, to no one in particular, “what a bleak city”. Sonja did not see it that way.
To say the city was “bleak” would be inviting the mistaken interpretation that the city was bare. Certainly there was less of it after the years of bombing, but even rubble takes up space. Sonja preferred to say that the city was doleful. Doleful. A proper definition wrapped in a bright and colorful set of syllables; the product of a rose-colored dictionary. If you can't find enjoyment in the little things you might as well lay down and try to catch an explosion on your tongue.
These are just a handful of the thoughts running through her mind as she walked home. Miraculously her apartment building had survived, thus far. Sure the roof was gone, and sure the toilet's pipes weren't connected to anything anymore, but it was familiar and that was nice. She began to walk up her front steps when she noticed her mailbox was broken. Its lid had come right off. Not that it mattered in this post-postal world, but she picked it up and was just about to return it to its proper place when she noticed something. There was a letter in her box. She picked it out of the tattered mailbox and looked at it. As the realization of what it was hit her, she laughed.
'Well,' she said while still chuckling, 'I guess it's better late than never.'
Hiya Sonja! This letter is super late, but not so late as to be sent in some post-apocalyptic, war-torn future. So, in the grand scheme of things, it isn't very late at all.”
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Needed: Partner in Inevitable Zombie War
Let's face it, soon enough hell will run out of room and the dead will begin to walk the Earth. While most of humanity will be taken by surprise and promptly eaten, I plan to be prepared. And there's nothing better to have during a zombie apocalypse than a true partner.
Someone to talk to, thus avoiding the need to befriend volley balls and mannequins. Someone to keep lookout while I raid the grocery store. And most importantly someone to shoot me in the face if I happen to become infected.
Must be able to run when necessary; when a hoard of zombie children come swarming out of the Chuck-E-Cheese, with their hunger for tickets turned to brains, we gotta be ready to book it double-time. Of course there are exceptions as the ability to crush a man's skull with minimal effort or tear off someone's arm and bludgeon them to death with it, could certainly come in handy.
But seriously, you gotta be able to shoot me in the face if the need arises.
Someone to talk to, thus avoiding the need to befriend volley balls and mannequins. Someone to keep lookout while I raid the grocery store. And most importantly someone to shoot me in the face if I happen to become infected.
Must be able to run when necessary; when a hoard of zombie children come swarming out of the Chuck-E-Cheese, with their hunger for tickets turned to brains, we gotta be ready to book it double-time. Of course there are exceptions as the ability to crush a man's skull with minimal effort or tear off someone's arm and bludgeon them to death with it, could certainly come in handy.
But seriously, you gotta be able to shoot me in the face if the need arises.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
There's a Chupacabra in My Yard, George Clooney
Dear George Clooney,
My name's JC. How are you today? I was just sitting here by my lonesome and I figured, why not see how my favorite movie star is doing. I...
Did you hear that?...I thought I heard something outside. Hmmm...oh well.
Anyways I'm a big fan of your movies. And that's saying something, because the only thing I enjoy more than movies is raising goats.
Okay, what the heck was that? Is someone on my lawn?
I'm probably just overreacting. The night will play tricks on you sometimes, eh Mr. Clooney? Silly how easy it is to let the unknown get the better of you, huh? I mean any rational person wouldn't give in to, SWEET BABY JESUS! What the hell was that? Okay, there was some freaky thing looking at me through the window. Oh jeez. Oh jeeeeeez. Deep breaths, JC. Deeeep breaths.
In.
Then out.
In.
Then out.
Okay. It was probably just some ordinary peeping tom. Just some ordinary, run-of-the-mill voyeuristic peeping tom. Just some normal pervert. A perfectly normal pervert with huge pointy teeth and the cold dead eyes of Lucifer. I'm sure you get those all the time. In any case, I'll be right back I'm just gonna go close the shades. I mean, it never hurts to err on the side of caution, am I right?
Oh dear lord, MY GOATS! Oooooooo, my precious goats. Oh God, they're all over the lawn. Oh, I'm going to be sick. Oh, Nibbles. Bleaty! Tin Can Tom!! Marky, you're still alive...son of a bi- you're eating my roses again! Dangit, Marky. I must've told you a million times to stay out of there! But this isn't the time for that. Oh, Marky. Sweet, sweet, Marky...where's your head?
WHERE IS YOUR FREAKING HEAD!?
Oh, there it is! That perverted monster is eating it. It's eating Marky's head! You piece of shit! Oh, and it saw me...ducking down now. Maybe if I turn off the lights it'll think I've gone away. Yup, nobody here. Just an old dark house. Safe inside the dark house.
Unless it can smell me. Oh crap, I probably reek of goats! Damn those goats. I should have listened to the people that thought raising goats was a bad idea. Why didn't I listen to them? Damn, this goat-loving pride! Okay, so I'll burn my clothes. Yes! Burn them and their goaty odor!
Sitting behind the couch in my skivvies now. Nothing weird about that, eh Mr. Clooney? Perfectly normal. Got my clothes burning away nicely. Got my kitchen knife in reach. Goats are all outside. Even their insides are outside. Ha ha. Yes, nice. Laughter. Laughter is my friend. And you...
You're my friend. Right?
My name's JC. How are you today? I was just sitting here by my lonesome and I figured, why not see how my favorite movie star is doing. I...
Did you hear that?...I thought I heard something outside. Hmmm...oh well.
Anyways I'm a big fan of your movies. And that's saying something, because the only thing I enjoy more than movies is raising goats.
Okay, what the heck was that? Is someone on my lawn?
I'm probably just overreacting. The night will play tricks on you sometimes, eh Mr. Clooney? Silly how easy it is to let the unknown get the better of you, huh? I mean any rational person wouldn't give in to, SWEET BABY JESUS! What the hell was that? Okay, there was some freaky thing looking at me through the window. Oh jeez. Oh jeeeeeez. Deep breaths, JC. Deeeep breaths.
In.
Then out.
In.
Then out.
Okay. It was probably just some ordinary peeping tom. Just some ordinary, run-of-the-mill voyeuristic peeping tom. Just some normal pervert. A perfectly normal pervert with huge pointy teeth and the cold dead eyes of Lucifer. I'm sure you get those all the time. In any case, I'll be right back I'm just gonna go close the shades. I mean, it never hurts to err on the side of caution, am I right?
Oh dear lord, MY GOATS! Oooooooo, my precious goats. Oh God, they're all over the lawn. Oh, I'm going to be sick. Oh, Nibbles. Bleaty! Tin Can Tom!! Marky, you're still alive...son of a bi- you're eating my roses again! Dangit, Marky. I must've told you a million times to stay out of there! But this isn't the time for that. Oh, Marky. Sweet, sweet, Marky...where's your head?
WHERE IS YOUR FREAKING HEAD!?
Oh, there it is! That perverted monster is eating it. It's eating Marky's head! You piece of shit! Oh, and it saw me...ducking down now. Maybe if I turn off the lights it'll think I've gone away. Yup, nobody here. Just an old dark house. Safe inside the dark house.
Unless it can smell me. Oh crap, I probably reek of goats! Damn those goats. I should have listened to the people that thought raising goats was a bad idea. Why didn't I listen to them? Damn, this goat-loving pride! Okay, so I'll burn my clothes. Yes! Burn them and their goaty odor!
Sitting behind the couch in my skivvies now. Nothing weird about that, eh Mr. Clooney? Perfectly normal. Got my clothes burning away nicely. Got my kitchen knife in reach. Goats are all outside. Even their insides are outside. Ha ha. Yes, nice. Laughter. Laughter is my friend. And you...
You're my friend. Right?
Monday, April 20, 2009
A Philosophic Story of S's
One time a few weeks ago I was sitting on the toilet thinking random thoughts to while away my forced time there when I began to wonder how long I could go only using words that began with a particular letter. For one reason or another I settled on the letter S. After I was finished in the bathroom I began working on it, but promptly grew bored and went to do something else. Tonight while searching for a good way to procrastinate on homework I remembered it and decided to finish it up.
Sunday, 6:16
Susan slowly strolls southward. Stratospheric stains spawn seraphic sunsets soliciting sentiment. She sighs. Suns sets, space spins, Susan speculates. Should souls still seek shape? Should skeletons still seek substance? Susan's Skeletal soul seeks sapience. Sidewalk skirting shrubs seem sick. Silently spoiling. Surroundings so stark stop saplings' successful sprouting. Susan's soul selfsame? She sees Saint Simon's Sanctuary's steeple surpassing sky. Sacrosanct scriptures seep solutions superfluously. Still...spirituality seems suitable sometimes, so sacrilegious speculations simply stall sagacity. "Stupid sentience" she says softly.
As silly as it is it took freaking forever. It is really hard trying to put sentences together without being able to use words like And, But, Or, With, The, Be, A, etc. I could have probably put even more work into improving it and yet even I think that would probably be a waste of time for such a silly project.
In other news: I can't wait until this semester is over. It is way too stressful and there is way too much to do. Despite all there is to work on I find myself not caring. When things like living situation, jobs, LIFE start getting into your head it is kind of hard to truly care about writing papers and the like.
Sunday, 6:16
Susan slowly strolls southward. Stratospheric stains spawn seraphic sunsets soliciting sentiment. She sighs. Suns sets, space spins, Susan speculates. Should souls still seek shape? Should skeletons still seek substance? Susan's Skeletal soul seeks sapience. Sidewalk skirting shrubs seem sick. Silently spoiling. Surroundings so stark stop saplings' successful sprouting. Susan's soul selfsame? She sees Saint Simon's Sanctuary's steeple surpassing sky. Sacrosanct scriptures seep solutions superfluously. Still...spirituality seems suitable sometimes, so sacrilegious speculations simply stall sagacity. "Stupid sentience" she says softly.
As silly as it is it took freaking forever. It is really hard trying to put sentences together without being able to use words like And, But, Or, With, The, Be, A, etc. I could have probably put even more work into improving it and yet even I think that would probably be a waste of time for such a silly project.
In other news: I can't wait until this semester is over. It is way too stressful and there is way too much to do. Despite all there is to work on I find myself not caring. When things like living situation, jobs, LIFE start getting into your head it is kind of hard to truly care about writing papers and the like.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Don't Trust the Ocean
When you're at the Ocean you might notice the noise. It isn't quiet. Even on a calm day you can hear the noise constantly. The roar of the ocean, as some would say. Personally I think it is more like a growl. As I sit here looking out at it I've come to the conclusion that the Ocean is disturbing. Like the man at the grocery store who wears sandals with socks or your ex in the arms of someone else; there is just something unpleasant about it. It is unnerving to watch, but to turn your back on it would be welcoming a knife in the back. Assuredly some will laugh at this idea, after all it is just a bunch of water. So what makes this particular body of water so disturbing.
For starters the Ocean is big. So big you cannot even comprehend just how big it is, but lets try anyway. The Ocean is approximately 321,000,000 cubic miles. In other terms the Ocean roughly has a mass of 13.6*10^20 kilograms. I, on the other hand, have a mass of about 85.56 kilograms. To create an even better picture visualize it in terms of gallon milk jugs. I am about 22.6 milk jugs. The ocean is 360,000,000,000,000,000,000 milk jugs. For every gallon of my milky being there is 1.6*10^19 gallons of ocean. This means that while I would fill up your fridge, the ocean would fill up over 58,000,000,000 oil tankers. When you think of something that is that much bigger than yourself it is no wonder we've used names to divided it up into sections. It is just a way to try and make sense of it. The Ocean is one of the only places on Earth where we still have little to no idea exactly what goes on in its depths. Sometimes a body will float up from the dark and we'll look at it, shit ourselves, then silently hope these things stay where they are.
The Ocean is filled with crazy ass things. Squid so large they can tear a ship to pieces. Man-eating sharks so perfectly evolved that they've barely changed over the eons. 100 foot aquatic mammals. Creatures that are bioluminescent, color changing, poisonous, limb regenerating, organ spewing, spikey, tooth-filled, and tentacled. If there was one that was all of these things you probably wouldn't be too surprised...unless of course that all described the kid who comes to pick up your daughter for the prom. Although if that was the case you should probably be more worried about your daughter's strange taste in men.
If creatures such as these weren't enough, the Ocean itself is practically a living thing. Like pumping arteries waves are sent to across its body and as the tides go in and out: the gigantic pulsations of makeshift lungs. This body of water can smash things with force enough to knock down a house or bend the lands to fit its shape. It can grab you in its current and pull you down into its depths. You can't really fight it, at least no by normal means. It warps around your blows and takes a deaf ear to your words. Its water isn't live sustaining, its just full of salt.
I'm not saying the Ocean isn't interesting or exciting. Perhaps deep down it is great and I just don't understand it the same way others do. Regardless, I don't like the feel of it. So I don't care what people say. If you aren't just a touch freaked out by the Ocean then there is something wrong with you...same goes for anyone who wears socks with sandals.
For starters the Ocean is big. So big you cannot even comprehend just how big it is, but lets try anyway. The Ocean is approximately 321,000,000 cubic miles. In other terms the Ocean roughly has a mass of 13.6*10^20 kilograms. I, on the other hand, have a mass of about 85.56 kilograms. To create an even better picture visualize it in terms of gallon milk jugs. I am about 22.6 milk jugs. The ocean is 360,000,000,000,000,000,000 milk jugs. For every gallon of my milky being there is 1.6*10^19 gallons of ocean. This means that while I would fill up your fridge, the ocean would fill up over 58,000,000,000 oil tankers. When you think of something that is that much bigger than yourself it is no wonder we've used names to divided it up into sections. It is just a way to try and make sense of it. The Ocean is one of the only places on Earth where we still have little to no idea exactly what goes on in its depths. Sometimes a body will float up from the dark and we'll look at it, shit ourselves, then silently hope these things stay where they are.
The Ocean is filled with crazy ass things. Squid so large they can tear a ship to pieces. Man-eating sharks so perfectly evolved that they've barely changed over the eons. 100 foot aquatic mammals. Creatures that are bioluminescent, color changing, poisonous, limb regenerating, organ spewing, spikey, tooth-filled, and tentacled. If there was one that was all of these things you probably wouldn't be too surprised...unless of course that all described the kid who comes to pick up your daughter for the prom. Although if that was the case you should probably be more worried about your daughter's strange taste in men.
If creatures such as these weren't enough, the Ocean itself is practically a living thing. Like pumping arteries waves are sent to across its body and as the tides go in and out: the gigantic pulsations of makeshift lungs. This body of water can smash things with force enough to knock down a house or bend the lands to fit its shape. It can grab you in its current and pull you down into its depths. You can't really fight it, at least no by normal means. It warps around your blows and takes a deaf ear to your words. Its water isn't live sustaining, its just full of salt.
I'm not saying the Ocean isn't interesting or exciting. Perhaps deep down it is great and I just don't understand it the same way others do. Regardless, I don't like the feel of it. So I don't care what people say. If you aren't just a touch freaked out by the Ocean then there is something wrong with you...same goes for anyone who wears socks with sandals.
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