January 2010
I had the opportunity to re-read and re-evaluate a favorite poem of mine today, “A Ramble in St. James’s Park” by John Wilmot. I had forgotten just how great this poem is. Throw out what you know about poetry and read this, be prepared to read some truly vulgar images about sex and hookers and genitalia that will make you squirm. Hit the title for the full text.
edit: The best I can find for explicative notes readily available on the interwebs lie here, under the “Sexual Honesty” subheading. Enjoy!
When she first heard “Atlas,” she was at my apartment. It was our favorite game, and we were both playing.
That was when she loved everything about me. That was when I was better than anyone she’d ever met, and certainly anyone she’d ever been with. That song became ours; that moment of unadulterated mutual appreciation for each other became a memory of a much less complicated attraction.
“Atlas” became my signature sound on her phone. She used to look forward to it after the end of the day. Over time, though, it wore on her. The carefully orchestrated spontaneity of the drum solo, the warbling vocals lulling one’s mind into a sense of false security, the tinny guitar plucks pretending to be another instrument entirely; it all wore on her.
At first it became white noise. Eventually she expected just me instead, because “Atlas” was old news. She eventually silenced her phone altogether, but when she was alone, she heard it. When she wanted to hear it, I wasn’t there on the other side, anxious to interrupt the first verse. When it was me, she wanted to hear anything but that.
The last time she heard “Atlas,” she was in her apartment. It used to be her favorite song, back when we were both happy.
Written for a prompted writing assignment; the song referenced is “Atlas” by Battles.
So, a while back a friend of mine (also my host) showed me a really neat little toy. It’s called eyeOS. It’s a cloud computing system designed and released as opensource. Obviously all my readers and passerby here would know what opensource is; so I wont tarry on that.
Anyway; It reminded me of a comment another of my friends had made once. You see, she is an ARG player. What’s an ARG? An ARG is an “Alternate Reality Game.” Those are games which use the many available medias of the present to make it seem like it’s all quite very real. Obviously it is not, but it is built to appear as such!
It’s also been used as a viral market tool since its creation, however players try to stay true to real, long, in-depth storylines.
But if you can tell already; I was thinking how useful an eyeOS could be to such a storyline.
If I ever make an ARG, expect me to use it somehow!
That’s actually an amazing idea. If you ever really want to see this come to fruition, lemme know. I’d love to work on the management end, I did a big fat stack of research on different ARGs and the tactics they used for a new media class, including a proposal for a game using emerging technology. Lots of web interaction, lots of applied augmented reality.
Bayonetta is about a stripper nun with guns on her feet that poledances and gets naked while murdering angels. Do you want to read more now?
tom robbins might be a misogynist, but i first read Still Life with Woodpecker when i developed breasts large enough to get the clerk at the gas station to sell me camel lights and the occasional bottle of sisco at 16. everything seemed possible then — peeing outside at a party, kissing another girl, playing acoustic guitar at a place where the coffee comes in cups large enough to put apples in, apples i could draw later in ballpoint pen in the book i carried around with me everywhere, the one with my sketch of an exsanguinated georgia o’keefe lilypuss i put on the cover. i signed every yearbook that year with the first letter of their name 8 inches tall and filled wiht little gargoyles and my message was the first chapter of my short story about the time a girl had sex
on the other hand, john updike wrote the story of the joyless alienating bargains i will accede to so i can delay as long as possible the realization that nobody really gives a shit if you’re making compromises with life if you didn’t bring anything to trade with
” —Mobutu
http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=3083443&pagenumber=91#post371076738
holy shit, mind blown.
- TK: If people were to donate nothing but bikinis to Haiti, would we be able to force an entire nation to be sexier?
- me: it'd be like a permanent fanservice episode
- TK: Do you know how much tourism that would generate?
- TK: They'd be able to rebuild in a month
- TK: That's like the only way Communism could ever work out
- TK: Island nation with a great climate
- TK: Everyone in bikinis
- me: pretty much
- me: if the state provided entertainment, nourishment and sexytimes
- me: self-sustaining economy instantly
- TK: Haiti's really poor, right?
- TK: We could just buy it
- me: entirely true
- me: do you still have that starfruit tree?
- me: they'd probably take a bunch of those in exchange for at least a few hundred acres
- me: starfruit are really cool after all
- TK: No, that was my grandparents'
- TK: They sold that house
- me: aw
As some of you may or may not know, yours truly is a Something Awful forums member — I…