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Excruciatingly Large Things

Tools for Writers

Wednesday, May 10, 2006 → by Danieru
Writing tips:

  1. 50 Tools That Can Increase Your Writing Skills
  2. How to write a novel in 100 days or less
  3. The snowflake method of writing
  4. Writerisms and other sins
  5. How to create an instant bestselling novel
  6. 50 writing tools
  7. Writing Exercises
  8. Poets and Writers Inc

Writing inspiration:

  1. This is about Self-Reference
  2. one word. so little time.
  3. English to American dictionary
  4. The end of the beginning, middle and end
  5. Slow Wave: Dream Diary (Dream inspired comic strips)
  6. Novel Writing vs Alternate Reality Gaming
  7. 2nd person perspective narratives - AskMeFi
  8. The Institute for the Future of the Book
  9. List of fictional things (Wikipedia)
  10. History of writing (Wikipedia)
  11. Logical Fallacies and How to Spot Them
  12. 'Simulacra and Science Fiction' (by Jean Baudrillard)
  13. 'If You Find This World Bad, You Should See Some of the Others' (by Philip K. Dick)
  14. ALL-TIME 100 Novels (in English Language)


Enjoy!

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Grandma Fibonacci's Liquorice Jar

→ by Danieru
Found;

Smashed;

Broken.

Smuggled out,

then flung up a tree.

My grandma's liquorice potion,

tastes so deeply of death I gurgle at the thought.

Charcoal lips shield jet-black lies as she clutches me to her bosom and slavers wildly.

Next time - oh dear, decrepit relative of mine - that death will be yours, as I clasp a shard of liquorice jar and slit your throat wide open.

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The Return of the Hyper-Frog

→ by Danieru
Semi-translucent and pinched with dew, the body of the cybernetic hyper-frog slithered up to the peak of its mamelon crucifix, letting out a soft, synthetic ribbit from its malleable plastic jaws. Nearby, in terraqueous symbiosis, a potted plant made torture induced love to a racked and agonised lizard creature of a superior mutated pedigree.

I sifted through my enormous toolbox, each implement bought with the profits of my tenebrous insanity benefits, and proceeded gleefully to penetrate the skin of my left shoulder with a multifaceted hack-saw shaped like a quarter moon.

The claw extended two metres from my newly amputated appendage. I cackled in rapture and joined the lizard entity on its rack of passion. Something told me this was to be the longest of pleasures. The ejaculate of time ceased its eruptions as my flesh departed. Infinity lay beyond its boundaries; it was my only destination.

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Salad Dressing

→ by Danieru
Bulbous, oil rich and exuberant. Damn, if I was a plant I'd give up my stem fluids for this floral beauty. Its luxurious plumage transpired to shade more than itself this fine spring morning, for underneath my love riddled window greenery, there cowered a shimmering bug of contrasting citrus shades. I snapped my fingers around its proboscis and plucked it from its hiding place. Glorious appetizer this, would go well with the salad.

The guests welled into my apartment; coats, hats deposited in droves at the kitchen door. Every mouth fed was a watering hole for pleasure, tongues slavering in anticipation of my salad delicacy; a Caesar ladened with juicy, crunchy window bugs.

Fuck the dressing today mere mortal munchers. Insectoid treats for your crystallised hunger. Delicious...

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Be warned...

Tuesday, May 09, 2006 → by Danieru
The stuff below this post is OLD and somewhat past it's use by date.

Comments appreciated:

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Thor: The Mighty Thunder Hamster - Artists Needed!

Thursday, April 21, 2005 → by Danieru

Calling all artists, illustrators, animators, bloggers, short-story enthusiasts and lovers of small, domesticated fur-balls wielding Hammers of Infinite power...

I have just uploaded my short children's story Thor: The Mighty Thunder Hamster to this website in order to attract possible collaborators for a creative, online project (issued under a creative commons license).

The story is about the imagined world of a small boy, obsessed with Viking myth. He receives a hamster for his birthday and sets out on a series of amazing, imagined adventures.

I believe that online multimedia fiction will sky rocket in popularity over the coming decades. So please take part now in this project and see your work online and available for thousands of prospective readers. Are you an illustrator with a zest for bizarre, comic creations? An animator looking for your next simple flash project? Or an artist looking for something new? Then I would really love to hear from you...

Take a look at the full story here, and if you are interested in taking part in the final project e-mail me directly via the Contact Form

Also, if there are any bloggers/webmasters reading this who would be so nice as to publicise this project I will be forever in your debt!

Thanks a lot!

Categories: , , , , , , ,
Link

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BREAK: Gumbon Enterprises one point zero

Tuesday, April 12, 2005 → by Danieru

Something missing under your sheets? Hopeless depravity a daily reminder of how much of a freak you wanted to be? Endless taunts a glimmer of hope next to the feeble and worthless life you can’t even begin to imagine you could possibly imagine? Well not to worry, for Gumbon Enterprises’ Excruciating Hyper-Frog Distorter™ is here to settle every conscious awareness of oneself!

Be remedial and love the fact of ineffectual hypothesis! Enter your own world inside the world that was the world outside! Incorporate, Absorb-orate®, Ignore-borate® and take flight from hope to enter The Excruciating World of the Hyper-Frog™! A mere 10,000 time units for all the pleasure of a million billion trillion quadrillion lifetimes*!

Apply now and receive a free hyper-reptile, ready to distil your weakest fantasy onto the reptilian creature of your choosing**.


* Some apparent lengths of time may appear to be much shorter than they actually are. Gumbon Enterprises accepts no responsibility for the distortion of reality by your own conscious experience (unless otherwise stated)
** While stocks last

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BREAK: Gumbon Enterprises one point one

→ by Danieru

Engineered for your personal pleasure, the actuality of reality! Gumbon Enterprises ™ brings you…. THE TRUTH ™ (as seen recently on channel 8,001’s techno TV series: ‘Choose the truth or die choosing something else apart from the truth’). In handling what is you can truly become what is to be! An amazing transformation of time into space, your very own Quadron® of reality for a mere 10,000 time units!

Gasp in amazement at futureless voids! Whimper in delight at boundless regions of infinite Quadra-space®! In a wildness of imaginations only time can relinquish the honour of being the proud owner of your own region of the cosmological foaming mass of truth! Buy 1 Quadron® of space truth today and receive a second for half price!*

In time’s wake there is nothing but the future, give us your time units now life-forms and the future will never need exist.


* Subject to availability

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The Dumpster Buddies Intro

→ by Danieru

In deepest space, connected by immeasurable time and incomprehensible distance the tokens of forever blend the fate of truth to the lies which they rest on.

“You say you saw the dumpster bring this into being?”

“Yeah. Along with a couple of carrots and a half eaten ham sandwich. After eating the sandwich I was there in order that such an event might reoccur.”

“It does seem that could be the way oh brother elusive, what with this expounded condition and its outcome. Maybe you were meant to be in the dumpster just then, just as time’s famous focal point whipped this world. Seems as good a sake as any. But could it be instead that the carrots and our famous item brought us, the dumpster and the world into being? Carrots or no carrots, this thing is out of whichever god damn place our brother fate put it in.”

The two dishevelled dumpster buddies motioned to each other over the silhouettes cast by the god damn glorious moon. Neither friend took their jobs as dumpster vultures as a long term venture. They both believed deep down that the day would come when dumpsters would vulture-ise themselves. One of them, for names were irrelevant in all the deepest of fate bending consequences, spoke thus:


“Hand me that holiest of carrots then. I’d love a nibble.” And indeed that he did nibble, although not quite the carrot he desired. The other buddy, fearing an injustice would come soon enough for the carrots, had handed his friend a radish instead. The mysterious object and the silhouette moon could never be in perfect harmony again.

“This is a radish! A god damn glorious radish, but a radish nonetheless. If only its silhouette had the colour enough to be distinguishable from a carrot. I’d have been safe.”

“But the carrot wouldn’t have been safe, lest alone to have a coloured silhouette. Such a thing must never be.”

“And you, there in your very own choice of dumpster; your very own coloured microcosm, forgive the pain of a radish in order that a carrot - by whom nothing had been indubitably offered by it, to you - be saved? I hope vultures peck what little you have to bare into your multicoloured skull so bright.”

Nothing now stirred this night, yet many motions were in ordered harmony, ready to move together, as one, as a whole. And high above the dumpster buddies, perched in clouds set amidst stratospheric blue, one more of the gods of awareness stirred a sleepy eye, casting vapour back at an Earth so far below.

“Its going to rain my amorphic friend.”

“It already is, and has and will. Surely not tonight oh weeping vessel of many moonbeams. A closed sense takes my radish from me.”

“That to save a carrot which had offered us a curtailed bluster of reality?”

“And fear of truth, oh brother, boils in what side? Out or in? I ask you, speak now brother.”

“Not either side has the answer here dear brother nebulous. We observe the side between in and out this night. Behold the object of our fear thus!”

Buddy second, the consumer of ground dwelling root vegetables, for that name hast now applied itself to his presence, aloft, a lifted, beheld the item a dumpster prenatally had seemed to bare and strike the night, so lost of light, aloft, a lifted, alone this night.

“That is it brother imprecise. The sky speaks our praise!”

“Forgiving your radish discrepancy the dumpster’s child holds the key my friend, the door opens!”

Their sky peeled orange petal folds in capitulated cascades - crack, collide the lighted night – the dumpster buddies took form a new, took flight.

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The Dumpster Buddies (post-Intro)

→ by Danieru

Forgiving the blesséd absence of time in all the folds twixt between realities, The Dumpster Buddies rolled into so many moments, twixt so many rambling nano-particles, their unlighted flight was never to end, yet end it did. Like the arrow that, half distance travelled, half again, never reaches its target, so these men, or so called men, did half to half receive no closer feeling to the one that said ‘you have arrived’.
The holy article, so permeated into the dumpster that night, the companion to carrots and that elusive ham sandwich, was none other than one Multidesk, thrown out by one single of many infinite Rejuvenators in a fit of anger at his reality. Such was that reality, and such the many folds twixt between the realities, that the desk arrived in the dumpster vulture’s paradise, their home.
So now – be it a dream, an image, a focal headland through all infinite-nature’s peninsulas – those brothers fell to another median time, middle place. Removed from their dumpster world, twixt between the folds they tumbled. Arriving past the half distance travelled, to land, ironically thus, in another dumpster in that other Earth, that planet Earth, our mother Earth.

“This surely could never be, for want of a better phrase: home?”

“I do believe dear brother tenuous that some homes are more real than others.”

Speaking thus, as together was apart, The Dumpster Buddies set quivering columns of flesh and bone on mother soil. Sol did vividness in requiem exclaim ‘I have witnessed unto this globe these as yet unknowns.’ And so - for to reclaim set superposition to truth, set quantum fluctuation to absolute – those brothers grasped mother soil at once, set foot outside the microcosmic dumpster. That holiest of relics; that languid resonance of unreality - the Multidesk - was known to rest, alone, in jest, and at no request, in that dumpster, that mess. The mother sky spoke out on so called men whom mother moon had never shone upon, would never. The day was young, the fate bound in one leap to afternoon, for fate convexed this god damn glorious day - this mother morning.

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Boredom

Thursday, April 07, 2005 → by Danieru

Boredom captured my very soul this day,
wept neatly my interior,
bloom meditative arrow heads
piercing solitude,
rupture space time latitude and longitude
make the moments - lest I be smote down by a passing lightning bolt;

Figure stood,
black sheet of night a clouding fold across my very profilic after taste
pegging wanton destructive urge to leap the sky,
paste red rose paint until body crumples,
spent of inner wakened states,
REM decrease,
there on the open field as the pulse of fate makes waste my haste
lends me a moonbeam,
plays my cards out face down, ace to spades no joke.

Nothing.

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