Escape from Elba
Exiles of the New York Times
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Author Topic: Creative Writing  (Read 27106 times)
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pugetopolis
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« Reply #945 on: June 10, 2007, 09:41:25 PM »

"Gee whiz," Harold said to Gordon in the hot-tub.

"That Eva, she sure does sound familiar."

"Well, Harold, she seems to have your number, honeybunch."

"That's what I mean. What forum back there did I step on her toes in?"

"Well, ask her. She's kinda the demure type isn't she?"

"Yes, she kinda likes those snarky one-liner put-downs, doesn't she?"

Yawn........



 

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“Other people's obsessions
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—Vincent Canby, The New York Times
barton
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« Reply #946 on: June 11, 2007, 10:03:33 AM »

Meanwhile, Bart headed back west on the horse he had ridden in on.  Sad to be concluding a sentence with a preposition, and glumly toking from an inhaler as his lungs struggled with the recent storm of fart-humor (which had followed so hard upon the prior storm of southern swamp gas and plantation mildew), he rode off into the sunset, though it was only 1 pm.

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pugetopolis
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« Reply #947 on: June 11, 2007, 11:30:23 AM »

Meanwhile, Bart headed back west on the horse he had ridden in on.  Sad to be concluding a sentence with a preposition, and glumly toking from an inhaler as his lungs struggled with the recent storm of fart-humor (which had followed so hard upon the prior storm of southern swamp gas and plantation mildew), he rode off into the sunset, though it was only 1 pm.




“Stop it, Harold.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop scratching your ass.”

“That’s not my ass—that’s my Avatar!!”
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“Other people's obsessions
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—Vincent Canby, The New York Times
pugetopolis
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« Reply #948 on: June 11, 2007, 11:45:35 AM »

“The story features Harvey Pekar, as himself, as the played by actor Paul Giamatti and as the comic book persona that he has created based on himself. Pekar is downbeat, depressed, in a dead end filing job, rather bitter. His best friend is a self-confessed nerd. Yet when the events of his life are epitomized in comic book snapshots they are intensely poignant, they seem to reach the disenfranchised, the dysfunctional within each of us. We follow him into a marriage that is as weird as he is. The originality of the material is reflected in its postmodern style of presentation, self-awareness of audience-manipulation blending seamlessly with entertainment and artistic delivery. Scenes are introduced and blended with comic book taglines, storyboarding, and even transitions from interloping set discussions with the real Pekar to the actor playing the scene under discussion. If it sounds pretentious, it's not – simply because it works so well and in an unpretentious way. Lovingly created and very moving. Probably the first real classic of 2003 and not to be missed, and for lovers of jazz/blues a soundtrack collectors item.”—American Splendor (2003)

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0305206/
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“Other people's obsessions
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—Vincent Canby, The New York Times
whiskeypriest
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« Reply #949 on: June 11, 2007, 11:48:20 AM »

"It also is a pretty accurate reflection of Cleveland," Gordon noted while munching on a Shay Burger.  "But why are we talking about the movie?" he said to Harold.  "And didn't I just fart you to death?  Seriously, we are looking more and more like two people who exist and act solely on the basis of several dispirate and often competing whims. I do not much like this kind of existence.  Can we get some stability?  Som consistency?"
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« Reply #950 on: June 11, 2007, 12:30:56 PM »

"Sometimes," said Bart, who had returned briefly to retrieve his sunglasses and a bottle of talcum powder, "a sudden storm of flatulence humor is a form of protest against disjointed prose, a way of exposing the futility of writing a consistent character."  Readjusting the diaper on his horse, he remounted, and galloped off in the general direction of Denver.

"I thought it was rather Chaucerian," said Gordon, letting loose an explosive methane-rich blast from his London derriere that caused several more WalMart ceiling tiles to fall from the ceiling of the natatorium and kill everyone present.

A hooded figure entered the roomful of carnage and, drawing back his hood, revealed himself to be...
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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #951 on: June 11, 2007, 12:32:39 PM »

Bengt Ekerot....
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« Reply #952 on: June 11, 2007, 12:37:25 PM »

aka Gene B. Kotter....

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pugetopolis
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« Reply #953 on: June 11, 2007, 12:41:04 PM »

"It also is a pretty accurate reflection of Cleveland," Gordon noted while munching on a Shay Burger.  "But why are we talking about the movie?" he said to Harold.  "And didn't I just fart you to death?  Seriously, we are looking more and more like two people who exist and act solely on the basis of several dispirate and often competing whims. I do not much like this kind of existence.  Can we get some stability?  Som consistency?"

“A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines.”—Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Well, I dunno, it sounds kind of “Albuquerque” to me, whiskeypriest—but I’m more than willing to be “consistent” even tho consistency and creativity seem rather inconsistent with each other,” Harold opined.

“Oh, there you go again Harold,” said Gordon. “Confusing creativity with dialog—and dialog with farting.”

“But Gordon, I’m not talking about hot air—surely a creative writing forum can be more than just a long series of cute little jokes and smart one-liners. A little narrative and stream of consciousness might enliven the conversation don’t you think?”

“Stream of what?”

« Last Edit: June 11, 2007, 12:42:47 PM by pugetopolis » Logged

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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #954 on: June 11, 2007, 12:42:10 PM »

aka Gene B. Kotter....


"Welcome back!"  Gordon chippered.  "Care for a game of chess?"
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Beppo
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« Reply #955 on: June 11, 2007, 12:59:13 PM »

"Will Smithers be joining us?" the Hood replied.

"Well, you see
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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #956 on: June 11, 2007, 01:10:36 PM »

I want knowledge! Not faith, not assumptions, but knowledge. I want God to stretch out His hand, uncover His face and speak to me."

"But He remains silent."  the Hood replied.

Gordnon continued, "I call out to Him in the darkness. But it's as if no one was there."

"Perhaps there isn't anyone."  The Hood said, with a bemused expression.
 
Gordon would not accept this state of affairs.  "Then life is a preposterous horror. No man can live faced with Death, knowing everything's nothingness."

"Most people think neither of death nor nothingness."  the Hood replied.  "Personally, I prefer to think of chess.  I've drawn black.  Most appropriate, don't you think?"
 
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« Reply #957 on: June 11, 2007, 01:18:37 PM »

Hood, dear fellow, I could not concentrate on tiddlywinks never mind chess whilst His Majesty remains in his current state of   
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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #958 on: June 11, 2007, 01:20:15 PM »

Arizona, sweating under the intense dessert heat.  Or is it desert heat?  Any way, sweating... in an arid wasteland waiting for the Hyacinth Girl to....
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« Reply #959 on: June 11, 2007, 01:22:28 PM »

wash her bottom from the sweet waters of the Royal bidet and
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