(no subject)
I want to play a game.
I found it in the Introduction to Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Roger Zelzany. It starts thus:
(1) Once there was a man who repaired trash compactors because that was what he loved doing more than anything else in the world --
(2) Once there was a man who repaired trash compactors in a society short on building materials, where properly compacted trash could be used as an architectural base --
(3) Once there was a man who hated trash compactors but repaired them for a living and to keep his manic wife in tranquilisers so that he did not have to spend so much time with his mistress, who was less fun now that she had converted to the new religion --
(4) Once there was a man who, in purposely misassembling the trash compactors he hated, produced a machine which --
It is no good. I can't do it. I can play the Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Trash Compactor Repairman Game, but I cannot turn it into a story at once puzzling, poignant, grotesque, philosphical, satirical, and fun.
Sounds brilliant, doesn't it?
Here's my attempt.
1. Once there was a lonely little girl who picked up a red crayon and scribbled lines upon the wall; her mother sent her to bed without supper before she scrubbed the marks with chemicals.
2. Once there was a little girl who spoke with people that were invisible and intangible; quite aware that this simply would not do, she created them bodies crafted of ink and words.
3. Once there was a little girl trapped in a building, but she escaped into her world of words; she led those who did not understand her into forests they in turn found incomprehendable: they never found the way out.
4. Once there was a girl who burned her world for it could not put her broken heart together again.
5. Once there was a teenager who smithed swords from her words and drove them in the metaphorical hearts of all the friends who had betrayed her, and wove soft letter for those who loved her. She gave the latter to those who loved her, and hid the rest deep inside of her.
6. Once there was a woman who changed the minds of her readers from yellow to purple with a single word filled with her passions and her desires.
7. Once there was a woman who refused to speak for her voice gave her words the shape of a raucous crow.
8. Once there was a woman who could not forget unless the sun shone brightly and hotly upon the earth.
9. Once there was a woman who told lies stuffed with truth.
10. Once there was an old woman who grew too weak to hold a pen and so she traced her words in the dust.
11. Once there was an old woman who went to a young man who inked her favorite words into her skin so that she would not forget them.
12. Once there was an old woman who made up words to name the emotions that so confused her as a child.
13. Once there were people who could not find the old woman, for all that was left of her were scribbled papers fluttering in the breeze.
Not very puzzling or grotesque or satirical or philosophical. If I remember, I'll return to it in a year and see if I cannot make it better.
I found it in the Introduction to Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Roger Zelzany. It starts thus:
(1) Once there was a man who repaired trash compactors because that was what he loved doing more than anything else in the world --
(2) Once there was a man who repaired trash compactors in a society short on building materials, where properly compacted trash could be used as an architectural base --
(3) Once there was a man who hated trash compactors but repaired them for a living and to keep his manic wife in tranquilisers so that he did not have to spend so much time with his mistress, who was less fun now that she had converted to the new religion --
(4) Once there was a man who, in purposely misassembling the trash compactors he hated, produced a machine which --
It is no good. I can't do it. I can play the Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Trash Compactor Repairman Game, but I cannot turn it into a story at once puzzling, poignant, grotesque, philosphical, satirical, and fun.
Sounds brilliant, doesn't it?
Here's my attempt.
1. Once there was a lonely little girl who picked up a red crayon and scribbled lines upon the wall; her mother sent her to bed without supper before she scrubbed the marks with chemicals.
2. Once there was a little girl who spoke with people that were invisible and intangible; quite aware that this simply would not do, she created them bodies crafted of ink and words.
3. Once there was a little girl trapped in a building, but she escaped into her world of words; she led those who did not understand her into forests they in turn found incomprehendable: they never found the way out.
4. Once there was a girl who burned her world for it could not put her broken heart together again.
5. Once there was a teenager who smithed swords from her words and drove them in the metaphorical hearts of all the friends who had betrayed her, and wove soft letter for those who loved her. She gave the latter to those who loved her, and hid the rest deep inside of her.
6. Once there was a woman who changed the minds of her readers from yellow to purple with a single word filled with her passions and her desires.
7. Once there was a woman who refused to speak for her voice gave her words the shape of a raucous crow.
8. Once there was a woman who could not forget unless the sun shone brightly and hotly upon the earth.
9. Once there was a woman who told lies stuffed with truth.
10. Once there was an old woman who grew too weak to hold a pen and so she traced her words in the dust.
11. Once there was an old woman who went to a young man who inked her favorite words into her skin so that she would not forget them.
12. Once there was an old woman who made up words to name the emotions that so confused her as a child.
13. Once there were people who could not find the old woman, for all that was left of her were scribbled papers fluttering in the breeze.
Not very puzzling or grotesque or satirical or philosophical. If I remember, I'll return to it in a year and see if I cannot make it better.