Monday July 20th, 2009

The exercise:

Courtesy of g2, today's exercise is to go over to xkcd and click the Random button until you find a comic to inspire your writing.

Just be careful not to get too caught up reading the comics to do some writing. Not that that was an issue for me. But, in a totally unrelated note, mine is going to be short because it's late and I need sleep.




The lights go off and my mind flickers on,
Guess I'll still be thinking when it is dawn.
But that's okay, since sleep is for the weak;
Who needs rest when your mind is at its peak?
Put the coffee on for an all-nighter;
Am I smiling? I must be a writer.


Greg said...

"Put the coffee on for an all-nighter;
Am I smiling? I must be a writer."

Excellent couplet, although it applies to mathematicians too. Loosely. Generally speaking, we start smiling as soon as anyone put the coffee on.

I am a big fan of xkcd, so I've read pretty much all of them, which helps a lot when trying not to get caught up reading them again. I got this one of the second 'Random' click which is one of my all-time favourites: Fetishes

Dr. Septopus looked up as Sylvestra sat down at the large, round table that dominated the room. He and she were the only two at a table for twenty, and she had chosen to sit at 120 degrees to him. Inwardly he sighed, he'd had such grand plans for the Council of Nastiness, and to date he'd only managed to recruit two other permanent members. It made him feel rather like the League of Nations.
"Where is he?" he said, clacking his beak softly as he spoke.
"In the kitchen. He's dressed as a go-go boy and hunting through the drawers for an egg-whisk."
Dr. Septopus looked at Sylvestra and knew instinctively, without any super-villain powers at all, that she'd made things worse.
"What did you do?"
"Suggested he use an apple corer."
"Sylvestra... it's a fetish, it's part of who -- well, what he is."
"My fetishes don't involve kitchen utensils!"
"Well neither do mine--"
"Do you have any? I rather thought you were sexless."
Dr. Septopus turned a paler shade of purple than normal and wriggled his tentacles uncomfortably.
"You might not recognise them as fetishes, being mammalian..." he half-whispered. Sylvestra turned a delicate shade of green
"You're all as bad as each other!" she said, standing up again. "I'm off. When the Green Lightbulb has finished himself off with that egg-whisk, and you're done with... whatever it is that's causing you such embarrassment, you can let me know and I'll have the table fumigated."
She flounced out, leaving Dr. Septopus in a slowly-expanding puddle of salty goo.

Srirezki Moenafri said...

Hi...nice to meet u..I've just had joined your blog..It was a very nice and creative writing u have made... hope we can share our minds together..Have a nice day of writing ^-^

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

I couldn't decide between two... so what is one to do? Simply combine the two!
Whoa. Too much rhyme sauce.
Anywhoooo..ay. Anyway. That's what I was gonna say.
ARG! Zarkin' rhyme sauce! "Does this come out, from dry cleaning, or is it like gravy?[!]"
It's fairly well known among friends and acquaintances that I am an earlybird. I enjoy rising early, before the rest of the house, and indeed before most of humanity, is up and humming. I creep down the stairs, usually mulling over some thought or other before I practice my three-and-a-half hours of piano.
Sometimes, however, these thoughts'll drift in while I'm practicing, usually around the time the sun pokes its nose through the trees and above the music desk of the piano. Sometimes it's something mundane, such as, "I think it'll be nice for a walk later," or something much more profound. The latter usually escape memory. Except, there was one that stuck in my head long enough for me to really think about it.
That particular morning, I'd rolled out of bed into a sense that some great realization was imminent. Just as I finished my Hanon warm-up, it hit me. It took a moment to sink in, but as it did, a triumphant smile grew on my face.
"It's okay," I muttered to myself. "It's okay! I'm free!" I stood up, bolted outside into the newborn light, and cried out to the birds and the dew, "I won The Game!!!
(inspiration: and
heehee, I just made you all lose. X) Aren't I just simply wonderful?
(and no, unfortunately, rhyme sauce is not my own invention; I first heard it used several times on Wait Wait Don't Tell Me)

Marc said...

Greg - as I was reading through the comics I was thinking, 'I bet Greg would like these' - I see you're one step ahead of me.

I actually came across that one in my random clicking and was tempted to use it. You did a... delightfully disturbing take on it though :)

Srirezki - thanks for stopping by! I hope you'll share some of your writing with us soon :)

g2 - ah, combining two to make one. Excellent choice.

Out of curiosity - don't you wake people up with your pre-dawn playing?

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

I don't, actually. The family's gotten used to it, and when we happen to have company, they say they open their eyes, register that there's a piano playing, and go back to sleep (which technically isn't waking them up). That is, if they hear it before their normal wake-up time.

I'm not sure if I've sent you a bit of my playing yet, have I?

Marc said...

Sorry, forgot to reply to this yesterday.

That makes sense. I suppose it helps that it's piano and not drums :)

No, you have not - I'd love to hear some though!