Tuesday, 4 May 2010

http://dearaprildiar.blogspot.com/

i am going to attempt to write a story that develops entry by entry in a blog at the above link. probably been done before, definitely been done better, but never mind. i think it might be fun. a project almost. perhaps it will alleviate a portion of the guilt of not doing any revision. probably not. glass half full. read it if you're feeling generous or pitying. or just seriously bored.

Monday, 8 March 2010

Life: the interactive game of spaghetti buckets.

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Life is a game and this is my take on the rules:

Each person has a bucket of spaghetti, filled with a varying number of objects wrapped in clothed disguise. Some are diamonds and rubies and nice things; the others are rotten fish and broken glass and that kind of thing.

Each player is blindfolded, and, on meeting a person, must poke their fingers (and, gradually, hands...) into the other person’s bucket, to fish around for the tiny parcels.


So what happens next?, I hear you ask. Well... We continue to rummage around in fellow players' buckets at every given opportunity, searching for understanding and light bulb moments. Sometimes, when they’re not looking we will grasp a cloth-wrapped item, and it is often unclear what we have found for a time.


When first playing the game, players are likely to trip up and mistake polished fish heads for pretty gems, as longer-term players can develop a knack for disguising the nasty bits of waste as desirable materials. It is also common for new players to plunge their hands too readily into the buckets of other players and end up with nasty cuts on the palms of their hands and in between their fingers. Unfortunately, no amount of warning can discourage new players from such reckless behaviour, as such wisdom cannot be shared, only learnt individually. It is simply a matter of time and experience before more boisterous players learn a little caution.


Over time, each new player will gain experience and learn not to make such quick assumptions about the unidentified objects, until they have had time to turn said object over in their hand a few times, and feel its edges with their fingers.


Quite soon in the game, each player will start to write a mental (or perhaps literal) list of the items found in other players’ buckets and each player will then make continually adjusting judgements of the other players, based on the ratio of fish heads to diamonds... a fair assessment, non?


Just as diamonds can disintegrate, so can fish heads (thankfully). Precious jewels can also be made (though they take time to grow and develop their own shape) and sadly, bits of glass can be broken too. Usually broken by other players, the glass ends up in the buckets of those whose glass was broken. This is a shame because then new players may slip their hands cautiously into the bucket of a player whose glass was broken by another player without knowing why there are so many sharp shards, and without knowing, it is all too easy to make incorrect assumptions about the contents of other players' buckets.


Naturally all players have different sized and different shaped flexible buckets. As such, the amount of spaghetti in the bucket may vary according to whose fingers venture into the bucket. If a player is cautious of a quick-to-judge rival player with large sausage fingers, he is permitted to throw extra cans of spaghetti into the mix, to slow his opponent down. It may also be said that if a player rather takes a liking to another, they may remove some of the spaghetti in order to aid the other player’s process of getting to know them.


And finally... I'd like to add a word of warning if I may: don’t remove too much spaghetti, because there is little left to do beyond enjoying the gems and trying to deal with the glass and rotten flesh remains, when all of the spaghetti has been sifted through and sifted through again...

Wednesday, 9 December 2009

niggles, nonsense and................ nothing

Wednesday 9th of December...

Conceit City, population: me. And the headlines today... Stuff that annoys me.


Item 1: The fact that my English Language teacher cannot explain the difference between an oxymoron and a juxtaposition. Frustratingly, he can use the terms in context, but does not appear to understand their respective meanings; at least, he certainly cannot explain them. Question: what is the point of employer a teacher to teach something he is blatantly incapable of elucidating? And no; examples of the terms used in slightly inappropriate contexts does NOT count as an explanation. Even with subtle prompts and questions such as "so does it mean something like [insert almost complete & exact definition]?" do not seem to help. I'm not trying to insinuate that I am perfect (I have one or two minor imperfections, would you believe?) but I have had a good English teacher for the last 2 and a half years and feel confident that I know the definitions of most of the key terms we've been taught. My heart goes out to the first year students, however, that will only be taught by this clueless falafel-head, and who will never quite grasp the concepts completely, except to the extent of being able to say, an oxymoron is when you say like 'bitter and sweet'...........?!#*


Item 2: Girls doing their make-up in front of the mirrors in the toilets at college. Worse still, is girls who feel that the appearance of their face should take priority over my personal hygiene and do not move when I stand behind them. Excuse me, I just went to the toilet and peed on my hand a bit. I now need to wash this off, but I can't reach the sink because your fake Louis Vuitton bags are sitting all around it and you are standing in my way... Yeahhh, and now that you've moved 4 inches to let me in, my personal space is so restricted that my hands are too close to the tap and I am spraying water on your stupid bag. I hope your bronzer brush gets damp and makes it difficult to achieve that 'airbrushed' effect that you always fail to reconstruct.


And finally (I don't like to be too Negative-a-Nancy) Item 3: Fake laughter in a silent room. Why? Stop sacrificing your dignity, please, you are making everyone around you uncomfortable. I know you are only trying (desperately) to bond with a fellow human, but really, is it necessary to pretend that you find them so amusing that you might actually hyperventilate and die or fart involuntarily (and probably still die)? Fake laughter is one thing, but fake hysterical laughter is just horrid. Furthermore, those around you feel obliged to either laugh or pretend they can't hear you. Which, in turn, makes the rest of us look like grumpy bastards (or desperate psychos). It makes me shiver at the thought of finding myself involved in a conversation with you. Please relax... And breathe.