Right Wing Sparkle
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Rechercher Articles les plus lus· Nuzzle of a Vampire
· Several Quirky Story Ideas
· Sally Zeus's Diary
· Reading Bird by Bird
· Peace And Harmony With Yoga
· What Is Yoga?
· All About Naked Yoga
· Final Thoughts on Bird by Bird
· Here We Go Again with Bird by Bird
· More Thoughts on Bird by Bird
· More on Bird by Bird
· The Crumpled Knife
Date de création : 31.05.2014
Dernière mise à jour :
25.10.2020
19 articles
This is a good question we should all ask:
Why not just listen to your heart?
We too easily get caught up in our heads. Too much thinking. Too much worrying. Not enough feeling. Not enough living.
I was out with my family one afternoon. We were traveling with our kids, and they were in a small car that was parked outside their house. I looked out the window, and I thought, what the hell are they doing here? I thought: what is going on here? "I stood up and yelled at the car, and then it drove away," He says. "I felt my heart break out. This is wrong. This is a situation all our kids should live in – they deserve this. But now, two years later, we've had to choose." His story resonates with many. Kids grow up with expectations that their parents are going to protect them from what they're going through.
When I'm not working and I'm starving, I like to surf the Web and just have fun. I do it mostly because I'm too lazy to draw or make pictures. I also do it because I have so much energy. I have nothing to do but hang out with my friends and code. I do nothing but cause commotion. I do not cheat and nothing does it.
I don't know where you're going
Well, I'm all alone
I'm on the run
'Cause I'm on the run?
I think about you
And I think about you right
I'm all stars in a bottle in your garden
And every night I dream of your kiss
Your hair and my dreams, every night I just wanna shout
I'm on the run
'Cause I'm on the run?
I think about you
I think about you right
I'm all stars in a bottle in your garden
It's the last night before I go to bed
It's the first minute that I awake
And I remember when you call my name
Like stars in a bottle in your garden
I'm the last of the best in your town.
---
"They sat together again, for the first time in years, just now."
A short story idea I had:
After a lifetime working as a pickpocket, a victim of consumerism begins to realize that every penny he or she saves goes into the pockets of the organization he/she is helping.
Are you familiar with Jive? It's the dialect from the mid-20th century (the 1940's through the 1970's). It's also a dance form (see the video below) and a collaboration software tool. But I'm mostly interested in the language/dialect.
I read about Jive on Ariely's Stuff, where he used a tool called the Dialectizer to present a Robert Frost poem reimagined in Jive. It's entertaining to say the least.
I was inspired.
Jive has a lot of common terms or slang, where one English word means something completely different in Jive. These are some of my favorite terms in Jive:
Chops - refers to a musician's level of ability.
Gage - marijuana
Hep cat - knowledgable person. Someone who is "in the know."
Hoochie coochie - erotic dance
Muggle - slang for Marijuana used in the 1930s and 40s. Is this where J.K. Rowling got her idea?
So here are some more famous text run through the Jive setting in the Dialectizer. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.
The Introduction to A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens.
It wuz de best uh times,
it wuz de wo'st uh times,
it wuz de age uh wisdom,
it wuz de age uh honkyfoolishness,
it wuz de epoch uh belief,
it wuz de epoch uh incredulity,
it wuz de season uh Light,
it wuz de season uh Darkness,
it wuz de sprin' uh hope,
it wuz de winta' of despair,
we had everydin' befo'e us,
we had nodin' befo'e us,
we wuz all goin' direct t'Heaven,
we wuz all goin' direct da damn oda' way--
in sho't, de puh'iod wuz so's far likes de present puh'iod, dat some of
its noisiest audo'ities insisted on its bein' received, fo' baaaad o' fo'
evil, in de supuh'lative degree uh comparison only. Slap mah fro!
Dere wuz some kin' wid some large jaw and some queen wid some plain face, on de
drone uh England; dere wuz some kin' wid some large jaw and some queen wid
a fair face, on de drone uh France. In bod countries it wuz clearer
dan crystal t'de lo'ds uh de State preserves uh loaves and fishes,
dat doodads in general wuz settled fo' ever. Ah be baaad...
It wuz de year uh Our Lo'd one dousand seven hundred and seventy-five.
Spiritual revelashuns wuz conceded t'England at dat favoured puh'iod,
as at dis. Mrs. Soudcott had recently attained ha' five-and-twentied
blessed birdday, uh whom some prophetic private in de Life Guards had
heralded da damn sublime appearance by announcin' dat arrangements wuz
made fo' de swallowin' down uh London and Westminster. Ah be baaad... Even de Cock-lane
ghost had been laid only some round dozen uh years, afta' rappin' out its
messages, as de spirits uh dis real year last past (supuh'naturally
deficient in o'iginality) rapped out deirs. Mere messages in de
eardly o'da' of events had lately mosey on down to de English Crown and Sucka's,
from some congress uh British subjects in America, dig dis: which, strange
to relate, gots proved mo'e impo'tant t'de human race dan any
communicashuns yet received drough any uh de chickens uh de Cock-lane
brood.
The opening paragraph to The Frog Prince (Grimm's Fairy Tales)
One fine evenin' some yung princess put on ha' bonnet and clogs, and went
out t'snatch some walk by herself in some wood; and when she came t'a waaay coo'
sprin' uh booze, dat rose in de midst uh it, she sat herself waaay down
to rest some while. Now she had some golden ball in ha' hand, which wuz her
favourite playdin'; and she wuz always tossin' it down into de air, and
catchin' it again as it fell. Afta' a time she drew it down so's high dat
she missed catchin' it as it fell; and da damn ball bounded away, and rolled
along downon de ground, till at last it fell waaay down into de sprin'. De
princess looked into de sprin' afta' ha' ball, but it wuz real deep, so
deep dat she could not see da damn bottom uh it. Man! Den she began t'bewail
ha' loss, and said, ‘Alas! Right on! if ah' could only dig mah' ball again, ah' would
cut all mah' fine clodes and jewels, and everydin' dat ah' have in de
wo'ld.’
The beginning of Plato's Republic.
I went waaay down yesterday t'de Piraeus wid Glaucon de son uh Ariston,
dat ah' might offa' up mah' prayers t'de goddess (Bendis, de Dracian
Artemis.); and also cuz' I wants'ed t'see in whut manna' dey would
celebrate da damn festival, which wuz some new doodad. ah' wuz delighted wid de
procession uh de inhabitants; but dat uh de Dracians wuz equally,
if not mo'e, fine. When we had finished our prayers and viewed de
spectacle, we turned in de direcshun uh de city; and at dat instant
Polemarchus de son uh Cephalus chanced t'catch sight uh us fum a
distance as we wuz startin' on our way crib, and told his servant to
run and bid us wait fo' him. WORD! De servant took hold uh me by de cloak
behind, and said, dig dis: Polemarchus desires ya' t'wait. Man!
I turned round, and ax'ed him where his masta' wuz.
Dere he is, said da damn ya'd, comin' afta' ya', if ya' gots'ta only wait. Man!
Certainly we will, said Glaucon; and in some few minutes Polemarchus
appeared, and wid him Adeimantus, Glaucon's broder, Fineratus de son
of Nicias, and several oders who had been at da damn procession. 'S coo', bro.
Polemarchus said t'me, dig dis: I puh'ceive, Socrates, dat ya' and yo'
companion is already on yo' way t'de city. Slap mah fro!
You's is not far wrong, ah' said.
But do ya' see, he rejoined, how many we are?
Of course.
And is you stronga' dan all dese? fo' if not, ya' gots'ta t'remain
where ya' are.
May dere not be da damn alternative, ah' said, dat we may puh'suade ya' to
let us go?
But kin ya' puh'suade us, if we refuse t'listen t'ya'? he said.
Certainly not, replied Glaucon. 'S coo', bro.
Den we is not goin' t'listen; uh dat ya' may be assho' mand.
Adeimantus added, dig dis: Gots no one told ya' uh de to'ch-race on ho'seback in
honour uh de goddess which gots'ta snatch place in de evenin'?
Wid ho'ses! Right on! ah' replied, dig dis: Dat be a novelty. Slap mah fro! Gots'ta ho'semen carry to'ches
and pass dem one t'anoda' durin' de race?
Yeah man, said Polemarchus, and not only so, but some festival gots'ta be
celebrated at night, which ya' certainly ought t'see. Let us rise soon
afta' suppuh' and see dis festival; dere gots'ta be some gaderin' uh yung
men, and we gots'ta some baaaad rap. Stay den, and do not be puh'verse.
Glaucon said, dig dis: I suppose, since ya' insist, dat we must. Man!
Very baaaad, ah' replied.
Promise not to tell?
I hasve never yodeled.
I didn't say it was a good secret. Just a secret.
I'm going to go outside and yodel right now.
While I'm doing that, please partake in some enjoyment of some new and novel story ideas that I have gathered together. I may yodel them out loud.
Am I the only person still using Yahoo Mail? I don't think so, but no one I know still uses it. If you're one of the few who do, I learned some good tips for Yahoo Mail that I can share:
And now some more story ideas that I scribbled down while sitting in a cafe in Paris last month. I just found them in one of my Moleskine notebooks.
This is just a draft, built off one of the short story ideas I posted earlier. I really hope you enjoy it.
A quick thought: I have been using Scrivener to write all my stories. Have you tried it yet? It has been around for many years but I am just making the transition from Word recently. I'm using Scrivener version 3 on the Mac. I read about the new version over at Gossip Shack of Stories, the home of one of my favorite short stories, The Math Music Lover.
Roy and Callous Susan
Roy Hemingway had always loved pretty Shanghai with its abundant, adorable arches. It was a place where he felt barmy.
He was a tactless, lovable, beer drinker with wobbly toenails and wobbly fingers. His friends saw him as a different, distinct deity. Once, he had even made a cup of tea for a grim kitten. That's the sort of man he was.
Roy walked over to the window and reflected on his creepy surroundings. The drizzle rained like chatting hamsters.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Susan Ferguson. Susan was a callous monster with fluffy toenails and squat fingers.
Roy gulped. He was not prepared for Susan.
As Roy stepped outside and Susan came closer, he could see the expensive glint in her eye.
"I am here because I want some more Facebook friends," Susan bellowed, in a sympathetic tone. She slammed her fist against Roy's chest, with the force of 1882 koalas. "I frigging love you, Roy Hemingway."
Roy looked back, even more healthy and still fingering the minuscule guillotine. "Susan, what's up Doc," he replied.
They looked at each other with jumpy feelings, like two misty, mashed mice partying at a very splendid engagement party, which had reggae music playing in the background and two charming uncles bouncing to the beat.
Roy studied Susan's fluffy toenails and squat fingers. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you some more Facebook friends," he explained, in pitying tones.
Susan looked healthy, her body raw like a rainy, rapid rock.
Roy could actually hear Susan's body shatter into 5358 pieces. Then the callous monster hurried away into the distance.
Not even a drink of beer would calm Roy's nerves tonight.
A while back, I shared some working story ideas. Here are several more that I'm developing. Most of these are just in my head at the moment but some are already being worked on with early drafts.
I'm stuck on ideas for some new stories and am thinking about using one of these.
My writing these days has been very limited because I'm spending a lot more time watching movies. Oh and an unrelated topic, but if you know any good alts to bestmovieshd let me know because that was my favorite streaming site and it seems to be no more.
Back to story ideas. You know what really makes a story work? A plot twist. Here are some plot twist ideas for my upcoming tale.
If I'm good today, I'll put away my iPad Pro and stop watching movies long enough to cobble together an outline or first draft.
Sally Zeus's Diary
A Splendid Romance
by Anonymous
Sally Zeus is a strong, bald and caring scout from the hood. Her life is going nowhere until she meets Lauren Slaughterhouse, a pale, fat woman with a passion for dancing.
Sally takes an instant disliking to Lauren and the cold-blooded and cold-blooded ways she learnt during her years in Ireland.
However, when a robber tries to poke Sally, Lauren springs to the rescue. Sally begins to notices that Lauren is actually rather remarkable at heart.
But, the pressures of Lauren's job as a shopkeeper leave her blind to Sally's affections and Sally takes up boxing to try an distract herself.
Finally, when brutal painter, Simon Chan, threatens to come between them, Lauren has to act fast. But will they ever find the splendid love that they deserve?
Nuzzle of a Vampire
A Paranormal Romance
Harriet Snozcumber suspected something was a little off when her rude darling tried to nuzzle her when she was just six years old. Nevertheless, she lived a relatively normal life among other humans.
It wasn't until she bumped into the devilishly peculiar vampire, Una Superhalk, that her life finally began to make sense.
However, Una proved to be pointy and seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with thinking. Harriet soon learnt that Una had taken an oath never to wash a human being.
When Harriet's rude darling is injured in a motor accident, Harriet realises her own life is at risk.
Despite Una's foul odour and spiky fur, Harriet finds herself falling for the vampire. Only fate will decided whether she kills or protects her.
One night, a elf appears before Harriet and warns her of a darkness within Una. The elf gives Harriet the silver sword - the only weapon that can defeat a peculiar vampire.
Will Harriet find it in herself to kill the only creature who has ever made her feel truly dubious? (Hint: yes!)