|
HiddenGecko posted:Bad Seafood: I once wrote a found poem for one of my creative writing classes. When I got it back I saw that my professor had suggested edits. When I asked him whether it was OK to edit a poem I’d crafted out of clever Facebook statuses he said it was. Do you know why you should always edit? Because the stream of gobbley gook pouring out of our minds is not fit for paper. And a good stream of consciousness piece should read more like a prose poem after all is said and done than a waterfall of words. Before this thread ends I swear to submit a stream of consciousness piece that is not in any way terrible. Bad Seafood fucked around with this message at 02:23 on Jan 10, 2013 |
#
¿
Jan 10, 2013 02:03
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ Apr 20, 2024 04:20 |
|
|
Mysterious space radiation has seeped in and infected Meis' prompt! For not including a flash rule you've subjected yourself to another one: your entry must be upbeat and optimistic. To you joining after, I want to see something from the perspective of a dying man.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 10, 2013 18:35
|
|
|
Oh, yeah, should probably have mentioned this. Since everyone's prompt is subject to custom tailoring, kindly include your flash rule in your submission post. It makes things easier to keep track of. If you've already submitted you're off the hook. This time.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 11, 2013 00:19
|
|
|
This'll probably do for now. Benagain vs. Noah Judge: Hidden Gecko Round 1 - concluded Round 2 - in progress Round 3 - pending Victor: ??? Iroel vs. Hidden Gecko Judge: Fanky Malloons Round 1 - concluded Victor: Hidden Gecko Etherwind vs. Symptomless Coma Judge: Sebmojo Round 1 - concluded Victor: Symptomless Coma Surreptitious Muffin vs. Budgie Inspector Judge: Sebmojo Round 1 - concluded Round 2 - in progress Round 3 - pending Victor: ??? Bad Seafood vs. Toanoradian Judge: "Guess" Round 1 - concluded Victor: Bad Seafood EDIT: Toanoradian stands as one of God's Own Prototypes. Bad Seafood fucked around with this message at 00:09 on Jan 14, 2013 |
|
#
¿
Jan 11, 2013 05:01
|
|
|
toanoradian posted:Well, poo poo, beaten. Martello, whenever you've got a moment not defending our freedoms, link Toanoradian's post in the second OP under its own heading. I think we can all agree a good Thunderbrawl's neither past nor present, but always.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 11, 2013 05:23
|
|
|
toanoradian posted:Not in a week of verse.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 11, 2013 10:43
|
|
|
Then we'll keep it short. One round. One hundred words. Prose, your prompt, due in 24 hours. And Sebmojo will judge because apparently he does that now.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 11, 2013 11:13
|
|
|
So tsun-tsun Toan.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 11, 2013 11:26
|
|
|
Your Sledgehammer posted:It ain't a Thunderdome without a stranger from the Outside experiencing a trial by fire. Bad Seafood posted:To you joining after, I want to see something from the perspective of a dying man.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 12, 2013 00:58
|
|
|
THUNDERBRAWL - Toan vs. Seafood Wanted to refine this a little more but the next three hours just got busy. Consider it a handicap since I guess I initiated this. Weeding (100 words) It’s her cooking I miss the most. Taste of homegrown vegetables, peas and carrots. She kept a garden out back, nothing serious. Couple weeks ago her tomatoes bloomed. That is what they do, right? Bloom? God but they were beautiful. Planted last spring, ripe and red. Didn’t pick ‘em. Couldn’t. Just…looked from the window whenever I passed. Sometimes a minute, maybe more. They rotted, eventually. In a week. Took me a week till the stench of the flies and the neighbors finally got to me. Even as I picked them, bruised and broken, I still wished I hadn't.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 12, 2013 02:55
|
|
|
Sign ups are closed. Letting in Twinkle Cave 'cause he's a superdude. You have 47 hours to complete your submissions. May God have mercy on your souls.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 12, 2013 07:03
|
|
|
And while we've got top people looking into whether or not Benagain ever really existed, let's bring everybody up to speed. SurreptitiousMuffin - Submitted Must contain a guitar, a tunnel, and a juicer. If poem contains rhymes they may only be internal because English let's you finagle out of that sort of thing. Noah - Submitted Poem must be a sestina. Capntastic - Submitted Poem must be in iambic pentameter. Hidden Gecko - Submitted Poem must be in limericks. Budgieinspector - Submitted Every third line must contain an enjambment. Swaziloo - Submitted Must contain the words "Mouth-friend" and "Frigorific." Poem must be nautical in theme and feature zero birds. Canadian Surf Club - Submitted Must contain one line that is also a palindrome. V for Vegas - Submitted Must begin and end with the same word. Toanoradian - Submitted Poem must be in free verse with short lines divided into syntactical unit stanzas of 4 to 8 because V for Vegas hates you unintentionally. Sitting Here - Submitted Must contain a geologist. Fanky Malloons - Submitted Cannot use the word "Death." Supermikhail - Submitted Must contain a non-Western funeral rite. STONE OF MADNESS - SUBMITTED MUST CONTAIN THIS RADICAL PICTURE DRAWN BY SUPERMIKHAIL THAT I'M TOTALLY NOT GOING TO LINK BECAUSE YOU ALEADY DID. Blackfrost - Submitted Must contain an acrostic spelling out ONLY DEATH IS REAL.  Symptomless Coma - Submitted Poem must be in haiku. Etherwind - Submitted Poem must be in epic poetry. Zack_Gochuck - Submitted Poem must rhyme but can never use the same rhyme twice. Areyoucontagious - Submitted Poem must be a ballad, no shortchanging. Monkeyboydc - Submitted Poem must be in iambic pentameter because Areyou is lazy. Poem must be a concrete poem must be a concrete poem must be. Poem must be upbeat and optimistic. Your Sledgehammer - Submitted Poem must be from the perspective of a dying man. Prolonged Priapism - Submitted Poem must be satirical. Twinkle Cave - Submitted Poem must be at least 5% nonsense words Twinkle Cave made up. After submissions have closed, each of you will be given one of these fine people (or Muffin) to crit. Your crit will neither positively nor negatively affect your chances of winning but is generally a nice thing to do anyway since the judges tend to be brief. How much sympathy you will be given for having to critique poetry will directly correlate with how much of a bastard you were with your flash rule. Happy hunting. Bad Seafood fucked around with this message at 07:35 on Jan 14, 2013 |
|
#
¿
Jan 12, 2013 07:54
|
|
|
Noted and edited. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go off and wonder how I landed guest judging poetry week twice.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 12, 2013 08:10
|
|
|
Turn-based Thunderbrawls would probably be the best move. That or at least containing them to a single round. A duel is traditionally decided in one shot, not best two out of three.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 13, 2013 01:25
|
|
|
supermikhail posted:So, yeah, what's worse: to submit the 140 words that I have, or not submit at all? I know it's not that EST yet, but I've got another riddle on that time, and I don't know which one of these two makes me more constipated. (I bet the motherfucking poetry.) And it is always worse to submit nothing. Never for a moment should you think otherwise. Even the losertar, in all of its loserness, is still the badge of a warrior. And when you die your grave will say Here Lies A Man Who Tried.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 13, 2013 08:19
|
|
|
Erik Shawn-Bohner posted:1) It shouldn't be hard to pick one organization that everyone can agree on. Something that wouldn't cause any moral conflicts like donating to the IDF. Bad Seafood fucked around with this message at 00:26 on Jan 14, 2013 |
|
#
¿
Jan 14, 2013 00:02
|
|
|
2 hours remain. Mojoman, shoot me your email in case Benagain disappears for another thousand years.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 14, 2013 04:01
|
|
|
10 minutes remain, you guys better put the peddle to the metal. You know who you are.Peel posted:Bad Seafood: Broken Pieces (The Star)
|
|
#
¿
Jan 14, 2013 05:50
|
|
|
Submissions are closed. Iroel and Meis are both no shows and have shamed their ancestors. As for the rest of you, good job.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 14, 2013 06:01
|
|
|
24 sign ups to 22 submissions, so on the whole not a bad turnout. Now comes the hard part.Bad Seafood posted:SurreptitiousMuffin - Submitted Capntastic, you are paired with Blackfrost. Budgieinspector, you are paired with Your Sledgehammer. Areyoucontagious, you are paired with Monkeyboydc. Symptomless Coma, you are paired with Fanky Malloons. Noah, you are paired with SurreptitiousMuffin. Swazillo, you are paired with STONE OF MADNESS. Canadian Surf Club, you are paired with Twinkle Cave. Etherwind, you are paired with Prolonged Priaprism. Hidden Gecko, you are paired with Sitting Here. V for Vegas, you are paired with Supermikhail. Zack_Gochuck, you are paired with Toanoradian. Go wild gentlemen. Bad Seafood fucked around with this message at 08:01 on Jan 14, 2013 |
|
#
¿
Jan 14, 2013 07:34
|
|
|
toanoradian posted:Winning will also literally fulfill all your dreams.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 14, 2013 19:08
|
|
|
"If you are using dialogue, say it aloud as you write it. Only then will it have the sound of speech." - John Steinbeck This Concludes My Crit is what I'd like to say. Let it sink in, stew for a bit, I've got a plane to catch anyway. But you guys have been real troopers and probably deserve a little more, so allow me to pontificate because I'm pretty sure that's a word Erik hates. Read a lot of poems this week. Even liked a couple. Muffin made a strong showing, of course, and Budgie. Great imagery, you two; a real sense of intimacy and melancholy. Great stuff. STONE OF MADNESS, you weren't among Honorable Mentions but your poem made me smile, and for that you get all caps. However. There was one thing in particular that a lot of you tripped up on, including you Budgie just a little bit, and that would be flow. The flow of your piece, the sound, the rhythm. Poetry is when you get right down to it playing with words. It's music without instruments, a song of pure language. A song that sometimes isn't even a song. Like human speech. When judging your pieces I read them aloud, and for about half found it difficult. I couldn't say how many of you spoke while you wrote, but I'd wager it wasn't many. A couple of you were strung along by your flash rules, but it's apparent at a glance who tried and who didn't, and who almost tried but didn't quite get it. The next time your stuck with a poetry prompt, read each line aloud as its own separate thing. Listen to yourself you'll have something comfortably. In conclusion, Swaziloo your posts are pretty okay but next time you throw a thesaurus at me try to say something with it. Now if anybody hates me I'll be freezing to death in Minnesota.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 15, 2013 13:23
|
|
|
So hey I'm back. That happened. And Capntastic won. That was a thing. Congratulations. And I am totally in by the way.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 22, 2013 09:22
|
|
|
What's it, sixty bucks now? Good gravy.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 22, 2013 19:35
|
|
|
I was going to do something different for this but some stuff cropped up so here's a bunch of people smoking cigarettes again. Birdfeeders (909 words) The child’s eyes were sharp and cold, a boy who believed in no illusions. He stood at the sound of footsteps and remained so as they entered one by one, the captain and the carpenter. They were twins, or might have been. The carpenter stooped and coughed, face lined with worry as he shut the door. The captain simply stood, a statue in black uniform, a single cigarette burning softly between his lips. The carpenter too drew a cigarette hands trembling. A small eternity passed within the attic. No words, no sound, save the sound of birds. A small cage lined with newspapers that the carpenter carried with him, it occupants the lone living things that graced room. This was where they were kept, the boy and the birds. At long last the captain removed his cap and turned to settle down on an upended bucket. The carpenter lowered the cage to the floor, still standing with the boy. The captain took his cigarette and rolled it idly between his fingers, eyes looming to the makeshift bed and the dishes below the window. He breathed in the drifting cinders of his habit and shuddered before speaking to his brother and his guest. “How long has he been up here?” “Three weeks.” “Does he speak?” “A little. When he wants to.” The captain clicked and extinguished his cigarette against the palm of his hand. His brother winced. The boy did not. Hands clasped, the captain bowed his head as though in prayer. The scent and the taste of the smoke lingered still, the incense of his religion. Again he clicked. “Do you know the position this puts me in Walter? Do you understand?” “Yes. Yes, I understand, I-” “Then why do you show this to me? This boy, this-” “You think…you think I could keep this from you?” “You have been.” “It was never the right time.” “And now is the right time?” “Oh please. You know why I had to wait. I couldn’t just announce-” “But you did,” the captain leaned back, “You did announce it, here and now.” “I am not a liar. Not to you.” “Not a good liar is what you mean.” “If you found him yourself you’d be angry. You’d be-” “Forced to do my duty.” The carpenter’s grip tightened on the cage. It shook ever so slightly, the birds within aflight in brief panic. The captain clicked and turned to the boy. “What’s your name?” The boy looked to the captain and for the first time seemed unsure of himself. The captain’s eyes were hollow, endlessly dark pupils, and yet within them brewed a quiet flame flickering gently in the distance. The boy cleared his throat and accepted the reality of his world. “Kurt.” “Kurt. Where is your family Kurt?” “Dead.” “Dead?” “Papa is dead. Mama is dead.” “Did you watch them die?” “No.” “Then how do you know they are dead?” “There were men with bags and cars. Papa worked at the police. Only dead people go in bags. They were alive at the time, perhaps, but I cannot imagine living people being stuffed into bags.” “You saw this then, but were not with them?” “No.” The captain clicked. The carpenter had grown used to it over the years. The boy didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. “Do you know who I am?” “I do.” “Then what is my name?” “I do not know your name…but I know who you are.” The captain chuckled and began to miss the taste of the nicotine. From a pocket he produced a box and shook free another cigarette. “Then you know what I must do?” “I do.” The lighter clicked. “And you are not afraid?” “I am.” The lighter clicked again. “You don’t look it.” “Because it changes nothing. You’ll either take me, or you won’t.” The lighter clicked a third time and produced a modest flame. The captain breathed in deep and satisfied. “I’ll either take you,” he repeated, “Or I won’t.” The captain turned to his brother, his mirror, the carpenter. The carpenter quivered but remained standing. He would not sit while the boy stood. From within the cage chirped the birds, isolated and free. The captain clicked and stood and groaned, hand to his back. For a moment his brother broke face and stepped forward, but was assured with silence his sibling was fine. A sound drifted through the open window. It was music. A man with a violin. The captain approached the boy as he spoke to the carpenter. “You’re a fool, Walter. You’ve always been a fool. But I suppose I can’t change that now can I?” “No. I suppose you can’t.” “That’s right. Man is limited. He can only do so much.” The captain looked into the boy’s eyes and saw himself reflected. He raised his hand and ruffled the boy’s hair – the boy did not seem to like it – and turned to find the door. He grasped the handle but did not turn it. “What are their names?” “W-what?” “Your birds.” “…Audrey. Audrey and Albert.” “Audrey. Albert. Not a bad name for a couple of birds.” “N-not at all.” The captain stood before the door, fingers still at the handle. “You always were one to take in some manner of strange animal I couldn’t bother to keep track of. What’s one more for the menagerie?” The door opened and the captain stepped through it.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 28, 2013 08:28
|
|
|
As a guy who just sort of futzes around when nothing is expected of me but bites the bullet and DOES IT when put on the spot, I am strongly in favor of mandatory critiques.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 28, 2013 09:35
|
|
|
Erik Shawn-Bohner puts the abs in absentee parenting. Additionally, a friendly reminder to use Proper Manuscript Format for all your submissions (minus the bio stuff in this case). All gratitude for saving yourself from looking the fool is to be directed to Budgieinspector, the hippest cat I know. EDIT: Better proof. Bad Seafood fucked around with this message at 10:48 on Jan 28, 2013 |
|
#
¿
Jan 28, 2013 10:19
|
|
|
I can't say I like the way you break my tables.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 28, 2013 10:50
|
|
|
THUNDERDOME INTERMISSION Bad Seafood proudly presents Man Falls Down Stairs, a play in one act. The Players ZANZIBAR, a man in good standing CHARLIE HORSE, the knave, his constant companion THE STAIRS, life's constant Act 1 The curtain rises. Enter ZANZIBAR at the top of THE STAIRS. He is dressed in nightclothes. ZANZIBAR Pray thee, a day most beaut' to beholden. To think that I should make the most of- He falls down THE STAIRS. ZANZIBAR I curse thee, knave! The curtain falls. Fin
|
|
#
¿
Jan 29, 2013 18:49
|
|
|
CancerCakes posted:Finally here is something I came across recently which seems to fit this arena: In.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 30, 2013 11:06
|
|
|
Those of you hooking up Audacity for the first time might want to look into a little something called Noise Removal. You can find it under the Effects tab to scrub out all that static ambiance your garden variety mic is probably going to pick up. Here's how the magic happens:
|
|
#
¿
Feb 1, 2013 06:11
|
|
|
I'm game if there's a number I'm supposed to call. Skype is the same as here, but I don't have PMs.
Bad Seafood fucked around with this message at 07:04 on Feb 2, 2013 |
|
#
¿
Feb 2, 2013 06:45
|
|
|
Cloudy Conditions (309 words) One minute fifty-one.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 3, 2013 05:30
|
|
|
STONE OF MADNESS posted:Don't feel compelled to write a finished story In.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 4, 2013 08:24
|
|
|
Have you ever felt like you were running on empty? Because that would be me. Flight (325 words) This is a story about love. True love, that once in a lifetime opportunity. I knew it was love as we sailed through the sky, for no lesser force could have prompted my actions. The world hung in place as we swam through the air, a boy and his girl both suspended in shrapnel. She had blood on her hands and a place in my heart, and the whole thing really just stank of romance. Even so, I must admit, we could have picked a better window to leap through. Her name was Danielle, a spirited sort. I'll never forget what she first said to me. "Duck down you idiot, or you'll get us both killed!" She was short for her stature in a green shirt and khaki, and produced a small pistol from the cuff of her sleeve. It carried two bullets, one for each of our pursuers, which is when I decided we should probably leave. She cradled it now, that small German gun. Like a child with a doll. I couldn't hide my smile. There the train passed beneath us, the five o' clock sharp. With a dull thump we landed and held on for dear life. She couldn't even look at me then. It was definitely the low point of our relationship. As the train carried on came the river to view. I knew in an instant what we both had to do. "Jump." "What?" "Jump!" "Are you insane?" "Swam through the sky just a moment ago. Should be a natural in the water." "Swam? We nearly fell to our deaths!" "So how's two for two?" I surrendered myself to the rush of the water. The train dropped away and the world seemed to turn. For the briefest of moments, I’d thought we’d part ways. Then I saw her drop as well as the train turned the bend. "Knew she liked me," I muttered as I broke through the water.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 10, 2013 12:49
|
|
|
STONE OF MADNESS posted:If anyone's irl friends with Echo Cian, might want to let her know she won! Give us a prompt EC! HereticMIND posted:Echo Cian, I await your prompt. LET THE BLOOD FLOW!
|
|
#
¿
Feb 12, 2013 19:00
|
|
|
In it.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 12, 2013 19:30
|
|
|
V for Vegas posted:Dragon Age fanfiction incoming.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 12, 2013 21:44
|
|
|
No you see it's a joke very nuanced RPGs let you name your guy but nobody calls them that always a last name or title or something ah ha ha ha ha ha it's funny right? Right? 
|
|
#
¿
Feb 12, 2013 22:30
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ Apr 20, 2024 04:20 |
|
|
The Thunderdome, where good stories come to not be written.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 17, 2013 03:49
|
|