Here it is, the Halloween short story for 2015. It's a bit long, actually, so I decided to put it on its own page, instead of in the post body like I usually do...
http://dielikeadisneyvillain.blogspot.com/p/popularculture-themachine-of-death-can.html
Enjoy!
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Friday, October 30, 2015
Spooky Story 2015
Tomorrow's story, the annual spooky short story, will be my original story submitted (and rejected!) from Machine of Death volume 2. Makes me happy.
It's called POPULAR CULTURE, and it takes place in the near future. It's about, well, it's a Machine of Death story, and so it's about what any other one of those is... a machine that lets you know, with 100% accuracy, how you will die. Yep, yep, just like the blog header.
It's not as overtly spooky as last year's story was, but wasn't intended to be... It's still a MoD story...
I'm not sure how good it is. The twist ending isn't much of a twist, but then again it's neither much of an ending. I'm alright with it; what it did well I'm very proud of. I suppose I'll let it speak for itself, so, shutting up now.
It's called POPULAR CULTURE, and it takes place in the near future. It's about, well, it's a Machine of Death story, and so it's about what any other one of those is... a machine that lets you know, with 100% accuracy, how you will die. Yep, yep, just like the blog header.
It's not as overtly spooky as last year's story was, but wasn't intended to be... It's still a MoD story...
I'm not sure how good it is. The twist ending isn't much of a twist, but then again it's neither much of an ending. I'm alright with it; what it did well I'm very proud of. I suppose I'll let it speak for itself, so, shutting up now.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Rejection
The application for BYU Provo (main campus) finally came back. The... application? The acceptance letter. Or rejection letter. Whichever. The announcement. And, which whichever it was, well... They were awfully kind, and I was actually... relieved?
Provo actually has a graphic design major-- Rexburg turns out has the arts major with graphic design focus, either as a BA or a BFA. If I wanted (and I'm considering it?) I could change my focus even within my proclaimed major, take whatever class I want, but... my point here-- the focus of this post-- why I'm even bringing this up, all has to do with that: Provo, rejection letter, relieved actually, it's like some kind of world of possibilities being in a smaller pond.
Malcolm Gladwell writes in David and Goliath how sometimes it's better to be a big fish in a small pond than a small fish in a big one-- how it can be better to go to a less-prestigious university. Would I still make this choice, to attend BYU-I, even if I were accepted to Provo? It'd be nice to be accepted to Harvard and blow them off, but this is BYU, anyway. At least the animation department is prestigious there, but that's not my intended major anyway, and any animation education to potentially suit my needs fits just as well in Idaho.
Rejection feels nice. I've been rejected formally a few times, not nearly enough. Mostly in writing, those stories shipped off and slapped down.
But it feels awesome to be rejected. I just realize this now-- I need to be rejected more often. But to be rejected means to ship around, and to ship around means to have a manuscript, and to have a manuscript means to have a manuscript written. And writing is not my favorite hobby. It is the one I feel most satisfied by. But it is not my favorite.
How satisfactory would it be to be rejected? That's the process, the whole process, the system, how everything works: write crap, mail it around, get rejected. Repeat. Success is an accidental part of the program. Though we'd be lost without it.
Provo actually has a graphic design major-- Rexburg turns out has the arts major with graphic design focus, either as a BA or a BFA. If I wanted (and I'm considering it?) I could change my focus even within my proclaimed major, take whatever class I want, but... my point here-- the focus of this post-- why I'm even bringing this up, all has to do with that: Provo, rejection letter, relieved actually, it's like some kind of world of possibilities being in a smaller pond.
Malcolm Gladwell writes in David and Goliath how sometimes it's better to be a big fish in a small pond than a small fish in a big one-- how it can be better to go to a less-prestigious university. Would I still make this choice, to attend BYU-I, even if I were accepted to Provo? It'd be nice to be accepted to Harvard and blow them off, but this is BYU, anyway. At least the animation department is prestigious there, but that's not my intended major anyway, and any animation education to potentially suit my needs fits just as well in Idaho.
Rejection feels nice. I've been rejected formally a few times, not nearly enough. Mostly in writing, those stories shipped off and slapped down.
But it feels awesome to be rejected. I just realize this now-- I need to be rejected more often. But to be rejected means to ship around, and to ship around means to have a manuscript, and to have a manuscript means to have a manuscript written. And writing is not my favorite hobby. It is the one I feel most satisfied by. But it is not my favorite.
How satisfactory would it be to be rejected? That's the process, the whole process, the system, how everything works: write crap, mail it around, get rejected. Repeat. Success is an accidental part of the program. Though we'd be lost without it.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Laser Pointers
I've never actually played laser pointer with the cat till now. It was quite... undramatic. It did notice the laser pointer dot eventually, tracked it with its eyes but I don't think ever attempted pouncing on it. And sniffed the pointer itself later on. But it did work. Not that well, but it did.
Don't they notice how the dot disappears when they're blocking the line? How does it work? We amuse ourselves by watching them chase after the dot, oblivious to the lack of physicality (indeed, lack of physicality is one reason the chase succeeds so well- there's no physical feedback of having "caught" anything, so huntmode continues indefinitely.)
We're amused by their oblivion-- oblivi-? obliviousness, at least-- but what if we're the oblivious ones? Think about it- exactly like the laser points, flicking in and out, cats glide through past the edges of our sensation, coming into view randomly. Like the laser points, we follow them, mindlessly, amused. When we've caught them, they slip away like water.
So I'm thinking, what if cats themselves are laser pointer dots to us, cast by fourth- or fifth-dimensional beings for their amusement as we foolishly chase the illusory?
Don't they notice how the dot disappears when they're blocking the line? How does it work? We amuse ourselves by watching them chase after the dot, oblivious to the lack of physicality (indeed, lack of physicality is one reason the chase succeeds so well- there's no physical feedback of having "caught" anything, so huntmode continues indefinitely.)
We're amused by their oblivion-- oblivi-? obliviousness, at least-- but what if we're the oblivious ones? Think about it- exactly like the laser points, flicking in and out, cats glide through past the edges of our sensation, coming into view randomly. Like the laser points, we follow them, mindlessly, amused. When we've caught them, they slip away like water.
So I'm thinking, what if cats themselves are laser pointer dots to us, cast by fourth- or fifth-dimensional beings for their amusement as we foolishly chase the illusory?
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