JeffreyJabs, The Reader
I'm working on a horror sci-fi adventure storygame right now, but it is a very longterm project, so don't get too hyped just yet.
If you need any help with any of your writing, just let me know through message and I'll see what I can do. Just don't ask about how to use advanced editor options.
If you need something to read, try Edgar Allen Poe's Masque of the Red Death, Stephen King's Dark Tower series, A Clockwork Orange, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, or any of Lovecraft's short stories.
Don't forget to stay physically active - it'll keep you out of the really dark places most of the time.
Recent PostsMorgan's All Purpose Argument Thread on 11/2/2017 10:02:59 PM
I'm fine with the entire collection of identity movements, but I am not fine with the grammatically incorrect use of They/Them. You are a singular entity, not a plural one.
Howdy on 10/23/2017 8:00:51 PM
Oh, potatoes. http://abcnews.go.com/Archives/video/june-15-1992-dan-quayle-misspells-potato-10952070
Random Poetry Thread on 10/23/2017 7:54:51 PM
This reminds me of a poem by H.P. Lovecraft titled "Nathicana," in which the speaker complains of a horrible "coma called living" while yearning for his love in the dream-world.
This is much more related to Halloween, though, because this poem's speaker has fallen in love with a homely ghost/corpse and not a pale dream goddess. Nice job!
A bit of poetry on 10/21/2017 10:25:45 PM
Since I'm in the mood for poetry, here's one of my poems that I wrote a little while ago:
The cord tightened round the neck,
As this fear burned emptiness,
Staring at me, eyes of stone,
Slouched upon his ashen throne,
Boiling wax dripped from his claws
My scorched back winced hard bleeding, raw.
His coarse grip an eyeless gaze,
Set on purging one more stain,
Made my heart skip two spaces left,
Its beat an airless howl, bereft:
How could one man destroy so much?
What fiery glance, what bloody touch-
What would I give to hold mine own,
This steel length, to hang the crown.
But then I looked up yet again,
Saw two eyes flashing, wearing thin,
Beneath those sores, those two deep bags,
Folding up and down like caves,
The pits of Hell extinguished, froze,
Just one drunk fool there, one old man,
His slick black hair spread far too thin,
Atop a heavy, morose grin.
I wept for him, for all of them,
That black, confused mass wavering there,
The sun burnt on these folds of flesh,
Where tributaries ran endless,
Another space, another sky,
To think that two hands could touch lives,
To think that beneath his gold shirt,
There lay a slowly pounding heart,
Nor did it stop, but it survived,
One small mallet strike a time,
My knots of rage frayed away,
There was no hate there, only shame.
If only I could tell him so,
But still the rope length quickly closed,
If only words could heal time,
If only voice could stop a mind,
More Pictures For My Story on 10/21/2017 10:21:32 PM
Damn! These are really good! Your line work is amazing. I almost like the black and white ones more because you can really see all the lines going every which way. That's just a matter of preference, though.
Poem to my Crush on 10/21/2017 10:07:12 PM
Alright, here's my analysis of this obscure, seemingly trashy poem that I have found whilst traipsing about in the forums of CYStia.
Oddly, the speaker of this poem starts with a rhetorical question, representing his uncertainty about perfection. The reader imagines the speaker lying placidly and meditating in a bed or under a tree. The speaker emphasizes the solitary setting by mentioning "the purity of solace." However, the word 'flawless' becomes a mask for a strange new world of thought which blooms in the speaker's mind while he lies in repose. The speaker refers to "the orange in the office," a jarring combination of the biological and the clinical. The speaker contrasts everyday life experience with an everyday object to introduce the absurd. Suddenly, though, the reader realizes that an orange in office is a perfectly normal phenomenon: employees bring oranges to lunch on in their offices all the time. This, truly, is the "nature of the [lawless] beast": the transition from reality to daydreams in the wink of an eye, the wild promise of adventure in the everyday.
The speaker then brings up imperfect examples of flawlessness. Of course the reader does not expect the anarchist, bigot, or sexist to be flawless. The word 'bumbling' emphasizes the pathetic nature of these characters. However, by doing so, he distorts the arbitrary definition of a word. Again, he asks, what's the definition of flawless? They are flawless in that they are the pure, distilled form of an idea. Complete anarchists do not exist in real life; only people who believe in anarchist ideals exist, and even they do not reject order all the time. The speaker emphasizes this flawless uniformity with redundant words of 'bigoted' before 'racist' and 'lawless' before 'anarchist.'
The next paragraph introduces an element of whimsy on behalf of the speaker, for he toys with these fake, non-human entities, these ideas. Of course ideas do not have jaws, nor brains, nor even balls! They reject all carnality even though they are flawless. However, he follows those examples with even more ideal characters: the tallest, honest, and loyal. However, even they are not truly human: they are ideas, just like the whimsical antagonists of the previous paragraphs.
The final paragraph is truly a work of art. The speaker rejects others' notions of flawless in the form of the ideal. He stands up and cries out to anyone who will listen, even to uncultured plebeians on the internet, his own definition of perfection. He includes anaphora with the word 'or' and repeats the characters of the previous paragraph to emphasize the defiant, entire rejection of the residing definition. The speaker thus elevates the drama of the poem until he voices, finally, the answer to that question that has hung over the heads of both the reader and writer. The speaker breathes out the last line with a satisfied resolution - the girl he loves is not an idea but just a girl, a girl with the power to resist. The reader asks, what is she resisting? Now, if she resisted something, she would turn into an idea; she would become not much more than the sexist who opposes women. This girl simply has the ability to resist the static state of a universe that flows and changes; she has the power to question and defy the standard definitions. She breaks beyond the typical definition of flawless and becomes a wild, adventurous spirit with no chains to hold her down
For that girl whom he admires, the speaker steps beyond reality once again and into the great mystery of life and of love, never to chain himself down again.
Thank you, Regal Ghost, for this masterpiece. Amen.
Murder becomes legal on 10/18/2017 11:22:31 PM
Yep, grammar is a literal lifesaver.
How can you stab people if you don't know how to spell the word "Stabbed"?
Feminists are taking all our -Boy Scouts- on 10/14/2017 11:04:56 PM
Face it, that's the only interesting topic you mentioned.
Looks like BSA hasn't even changed its name yet, though. In the future, girls joining Scouting might have to say "I'm a Boy Scout" with a completely serious face. The Girl Scouts still exist, too, so this isn't even a merger yet. It's mostly just hurting Girl Scouts, which already mostly sucks to begin with.
Plus, Boy Scouts already has a program called Venturing that includes males and females, so this isn't much of a change.
(By the way, if Girl Scouts sell cookies, then what do Boy Scouts sell? Popcorn! Yes, I'm serious. Maybe in the future they'll merge and take over as the biggest junk food magnate in the country.)
I don't think inclusion of girls will help with membership much. Boy Scouts just needs a new advertising campaign/public image to showcase what actually goes on in Scouting, which can actually be pretty impressive at times.
Mizal's idea is a start, but I'm thinking bigger, more exciting. Drop the paperwork. Eliminate the merit badge system. The only rank will be Eagle Scout, and boy will it be difficult to get. Here are the new requirements:
1. Save someone's life using first aid.
2. Go on a 20 mile hike/50 mile bike ride.
3. Hang on to a flying helicopter for 5 miles by tying yourself onto a rope dangling from the bottom of the helicopter.
4. Collect 5 crabs at the bottom of a lake using only your body and a spear. Roast the crabs using only two sticks.
5. Sleep out in the woods with no clothes on in northernmost Alaska. If you fall asleep for more than an hour and don't die, then you get the requirement.
6. Die for your country and come back.
7. Every year, a huge melee arena fight will be held in every state welcoming all prospective eagle scouts. Participants can bring and use whatever they can carry in their hands to fight in a football stadium. The 10 surviving kiddos will become Eagle Scouts and jump off a cliff using only the American flag as a parachute in order to receive their prize.
Be Prepared Only the Strong will Survive.
Murder becomes legal on 10/13/2017 6:33:32 PM
aHA! My initial proposition was understatement all along! I win .... something.
Yeah, I agree that it's pretty much impossible to prove anything besides mathematics from a logical point of view. As a skeptic, I believe that we can never really know anything besides mathematics for sure because sense perception is faulty and reasoning can lead us astray, and that's because we (arguably) made math up.
Murder becomes legal on 10/11/2017 10:52:53 PM
Murder is hard.
Ignoring the legality of the act, you have to worry about whether or not you can live with yourself after committing the act. Now, it is difficult to logically prove that it is wrong to murder because that changes depending on the context, but I and, I believe, most other social humans would find it difficult to go out and just murder someone, even an enemy.
Society would probably devolve to the point where everyone carries personal security such as handguns/tasers/beanbag shooters. If I were to get a handgun, I would need some more training, so I would probably either get that self defense training, move to a country which still bans murder, or form my own mini-society which bans murder.