Industrial Evil is your friend.
"Not really the assignment, but I like it a lot, 20/20" Yea that pretty much sums up all my english papers. Writing entirely within the confines of the assignment is definitely overrated. That was the comment on my latest paper though, the "monologue of a liar;" the premise of the crazy direction I took it was that it was the monologue(s) of no less than three individuals, of whom two were lying.
In class we had to write more "concrete image" sentences. Psha on that. We were supposed to choose five words from a list of maybe a dozen and a half that she gave us, and write concrete images for them. The requirement was then shortened to two. In order to achieve my permanent goal of overdoing every assignment and holding myself to a standard of excellence that dwarfs the miserable insignificance of my foolish classmates, I wrote five lines, which all related to eachother in a coherent little thingness. As well I used the words "concrete images" in the thingness itself, in order to accomplish my permanent goal of making fun of the assignment itself. My creation:
Alkhaliki:
Concrete images, towering spires, rippling reflected in untainted pools;
Unapologetic industrial battlements embracing the sulfuric progress,
whose cost is spelled in sky but not on paper;
Catwalk pilrimage among the beasts,
wisdom of metal oracles inscribed devoutly upon clipboards;
Burning emeralds in the darkness, rows of consoles attest satisfactory conditions;
Cool breeze and emerald forests, tainted sky in reflective pools.
The words embodied were "injustice," "evil," "devotion," "satisfaction," and "salvation," in that order. "Alkhaliki" is of course the theoretical location of the factory in my soviet interrogation story.. I really ought to name these damn things.. and is a town in the south of the former Soviet Socialist Republic of Georgia. I do not know if there are actually any factories there, the reference is to my other story.
Miss Natalie Kempkey came over again and we totally got our drink on while watching The Usual Suspects. Good times, good times. Such was my Monday. The End.
In class we had to write more "concrete image" sentences. Psha on that. We were supposed to choose five words from a list of maybe a dozen and a half that she gave us, and write concrete images for them. The requirement was then shortened to two. In order to achieve my permanent goal of overdoing every assignment and holding myself to a standard of excellence that dwarfs the miserable insignificance of my foolish classmates, I wrote five lines, which all related to eachother in a coherent little thingness. As well I used the words "concrete images" in the thingness itself, in order to accomplish my permanent goal of making fun of the assignment itself. My creation:
Alkhaliki:
Concrete images, towering spires, rippling reflected in untainted pools;
Unapologetic industrial battlements embracing the sulfuric progress,
whose cost is spelled in sky but not on paper;
Catwalk pilrimage among the beasts,
wisdom of metal oracles inscribed devoutly upon clipboards;
Burning emeralds in the darkness, rows of consoles attest satisfactory conditions;
Cool breeze and emerald forests, tainted sky in reflective pools.
The words embodied were "injustice," "evil," "devotion," "satisfaction," and "salvation," in that order. "Alkhaliki" is of course the theoretical location of the factory in my soviet interrogation story.. I really ought to name these damn things.. and is a town in the south of the former Soviet Socialist Republic of Georgia. I do not know if there are actually any factories there, the reference is to my other story.
Miss Natalie Kempkey came over again and we totally got our drink on while watching The Usual Suspects. Good times, good times. Such was my Monday. The End.